BJ Nilsen & Stilluppsteypa – Big Shadow Montana 7.9

                I like this record. The sound flows, rearranges itself, and drifts on by. Stilluppsteypa have their trademark humor included on here (particularly on the B Side). Even the artwork, a massive explosion of color, referencing the 60s, feels appropriate. “Big Shadow Montana” I would assume refers to the giant nature of the sound and size of the pieces.

                Side one appears to be the slightly more conventional piece. Occasionally you hear snippets of environment sounds through the gradual build-ups. Turn up the volume and you hear new pieces bleeding through the drones. In particular I heard what sounded like opera singing, though I could be entirely wrong. You can listen to this in any context though some familiarity with Stilluppsteypa’s work might be helpful.

                The second half is more playful, particularly in the middle half. While there, you’re treated to a kitschy yet cute coda. Right when you think it is about to cut out (a technique they employ on a lot of the record). I like the background pieces which always seem poised to overtake yet never quite do. A tease like this gives the record a degree of tension. For me I enjoy the tension they employ on the whole album. 

                Big Shadow Montana is a sprawling, deeply weird work. Due to the oftentimes quiet nature of the pieces, I’d recommend listening to later in the day with big headphones. Put the volume up too and just get lost in it.

Kyle Bobby Dunn – Ways of Meaning 8.5

                “Ways of Meaning” may be Kyle Bobby Dunn’s springtime album. His last work “A Young Person’s Guide To” felt glacial compared to this work. I like both, but the shorter length and louder volume makes it a bit easier to immediately enjoy. Volume is a relative thing in Kyle’s world. Things never get too loud; his focus on silence is greatly appreciated. 

                How he unfurls his work is great. My childhood was spent listening to various classical pieces, especially slow ones. In church I’d hear the organist play to let us know when to be seated and when peace was upon us. “Statuit” gives me that same warm feeling I got from shaking everyone’s hand after saying “Peace be with you and also with you”. There’s sweetness in the piece, a patience which I don’t often encounter, even within the slow-moving world of drone. 

                This is still quiet music despite the slight increase in loudness. “Canyon Meadows” is the loudest piece on here. I figure it is to give a sense of largeness to the record. When I listened to this, I was watching the shadows grow as the day ended. Perhaps this might be the best way to listen to the song, I’m not sure. 

                “Movement For the Completely Fucked” is the longest track on here, and probably the jewel of the album. The title itself reminds me of Stars of the Lid’s tendency to use jarring titles for their calming pieces. Fifteen minutes go by so blissfully. I think this may be my favorite piece on the album. 

                All of Kyle’s work revolves around patience and longevity. Considering he’s been making music for almost 10 years, that’s pretty impressive. It’s doubly impressive he’s only in his early twenties and has already built up such a large body of work. “Ways of Meaning” may be my favorite release from him so far, so sunny and full of hope.

Zomes – Earth Grid 7.3

                 Asa Osburne continues to carve out a niche for himself with Earth Grid. When I first heard this, I had a hard time thinking why exactly I liked it. Perhaps it had to do with the unabashedly lo-fi blunt style of the recording. Or could it be he takes an extremely slow, deliberate approach to his music. However you want to interpret this, it is a real grower. 

                Using the most basic elements (drone, extremely dusty drum machine) he manages to create a warm, almost optimistic sound. Walking with this on, I felt the music began to make me feel better, it calmed me down. At no point does Zomes try to shock you with any loud sounds or a tempo which would indicate consciousness.  Instead, he decides to let you focus on the drone melodies with extremely simple drum beats (in this recording they function more as a metronome than as a real beat per se).

                I enjoy how he uses extremely dated equipment for this album. He doesn’t feel the need to really expand the palette beyond the most basic of melody and progression. While this might annoy some listeners, it comes across as unusually soothing music. Pieces of rock, krautrock, and drone can be found within these 41 odd minutes.

                For me, the longer songs work better as they show off the fruits of this dedication. By far the best track on this short album is “Alec’s Anthem” where the long length reveals a real knack for writing slowly shifting songs. Generally speaking, the longer track lengths do a better job of exploring the many variations of a single loop. 

                Consider this lo-fi meditative music. Zomes manages to make something apparently so simple into something with a great deal of heart and soul.  

Derek Rogers – Cosmic Overlap 6.5

                 Derek Rogers comes out of a surprisingly strong drone scene in Austin, Texas. Over the course of this extremely cryptic album, he makes illusions to classical music, metal, and feedback. It is a strange collection of influences, which are treated in uneven doses.

                The first track on here is amazing. “Cosmic Overlap” takes a classical sample. Seems simple enough, but the dynamic part comes from how the sample is sculpted into noise and somehow reforms into a new kind of classical noise, with an intense buildup. It is romantic, disorienting and makes me eager to hear more of Derek’s work.

                Some of the other tracks don’t have this same grace or poise. Instead, tracks like “An Unexpected Glow” sound like a sort of lazy attempt to capture the Zen of Earth’s track “Phase 3”. After that comes “Guitar Bloom” which appears to be a faceless, personality-less drone. 

                Right as we reach the end we return back to better quality productions. “Over the Ether” comes across as the most traditional drone song on here. “Reich Phrases” might be the second best song on here, after the beginning. Derek has an intense focus for this track which is surprisingly fruitful.

                Overall, I feel Derek is a good musician but a poor editor. A lot of these ideas don’t go anywhere, especially in the beginning after the great “Cosmic Overlap” introduction. I’d imagine a lot of people would tune out before “An Unexpected Glow” even finished. Had Derek perhaps removed that track and the following one, or reduced the length of a lot of these songs, it would have a stronger impact. 

                I’d say definitely listen to it for the first and last tracks; otherwise it tends to meander a bit too much, even by drone’s tolerant standards.

Colored Mushroom and the Medicine Rocks – Sea Channels 7.0

                Another Emeralds-side project comes to me. I’m glad they have so many, since they literally create a whole new movement of this kind of kosmische music. Sometimes when I think I’ve discovered a new band in this field, it is just another Emeralds side project. 

               Sea Channels really does it well, probably better than a lot of their other projects. Everything’s kept perfectly focused on movement. Yes, it does move, not just in traditional evolutionary forms, but from left to right. There is a lot of panning done on this EP, so if you’re not a fan of such kinds of gracious sweeps of sound, you might not enjoy this that much.

                It is book-ended by two of the longest tracks. “Sea Channels” includes the actual sound of flowing water before breaking into glorious light at the end. The two middle tracks even include a light drum machine; something generally frowned upon around these ambient parts. A slight beat only adds to the rhythm of the sounds rather than turning it into lame ambient with a beat. 

                “When We’re Both Gone” is the saddest piece on here. It has the slowest evolution out of all of the tracks, and for a while you might think it is just repeating endlessly. There’s more going on than what first meets the eye, which makes it a great closer.

                Hopefully John Elliot releases more stuff in this vein. I’d like that a lot.

Fabric – A Sort of Radiance 7.9

            Spectrum Spools has started off strong. While I was first hesitant about another entry into the burgeoning field of Kosmic music, I felt a bit weary. Thankfully Fabric allays all my fears. As it started up, I said “This is going to be a good trip” and I was right. 

                Immediately you’re brought into this vast, pulsing environment created by Matthew Mullane. Matthew Mullane is based in Chicago but originally came from Ohio. Seeing how many other kinds of musicians of similar ilk came from Ohio, I wonder if there’s something in the water over there because this flows so well. Each piece, whether short or long, contributes to this environment. So many of these sounds are ones you might hear fairly often, like the sweep introducing “Soft Disconnect” but it is the evolution of these pieces that’s truly amazing.

                Each piece (excluding the shorter vignettes) builds up so nicely. And there’s never just a single pattern, they are woven together so tightly. It rewards a listener who pays close attention, something I always appreciate. While the synthesizer lines build up, he often includes noises which are considered heresy around these kinds of sounds, like light percussion or melodies coming in and out of focus. 

                Really, I’m just happy that Fabric finally got the proper attention it so richly deserves. This is late-night, spring time listening. It is full of life and hope.

Suum Cuique – Midden 6.3

                Suum Cuique means in Latin “to each according to his or her own merits”. That sums up this album pretty well. Each song stands nearly alone, though there is a dark theme winding through them all. While this isn’t as stunning as the cryptic name would suggest, it is still fairly competent.

                We are given little to no information of who is responsible for the music. Eliane Radigue is thrown around as a point of reference, but her work is far better and much more patient. Theirs gives off the impression of a group working with similar sounds but less dedication. “Entropy” comes closest to reaching her ideal, but moves too quickly. Usually her material (or any good drone artist) tends to wait longer, to tease out the subtle differences, shifts. 

                A lot of the work suffers from this desire to shock and awe the listener. There are other artists working in this field, like Eleh, who tend to spend more time exploring the tiny details and pieces. “Red Binary” might be an example of a sound they might want explore in the future. Unlike the other pieces, this one avoids the dramatic endpoint. Instead, the piece is rearranged so delicately into something new, without the need for an increase in volume.

                This isn’t a bad recording and it has its moments. Hints of a future approach bode well, so long as they keep their more trickster impulses in check.

Kyle Bobby Dunn – A Young Person’s Guide To 8.4

                A Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra is what I’m thinking the title references. Since there are so many different instruments being used for the recording, this interpretation might make the most sense. Picking out any instrument (besides the piano, which is pretty distinguishable) can be somewhat difficult, as the sounds are blurred together to create comforting, floating drones.

                There are drones, two hours’ worth of the stuff. Personally, I enjoy it when the artist takes a longer format approach, particularly for the’ lose-yourself-in-it’ stuff like what this offers. Over the course of the two hours, you’re treated to the warmest of drones. How these drones move forward is pretty amazing, he has a certain method to how each piece unfolds so graciously. In fact, picking out a specific movement or dramatic change is impossible, think of watching the clouds float by on a bright sunny day. 

                “Butel” starts off the two-disc set in positively massive fashion: a 17-minute piece where things build up so discretely (even once compared to the other pieces). Immediately you can feel its warmth, and its fragile state. It never gets loud or overwhelming, but slowly gains your attention. “There Is No End To Your Beauty” has a delightful ebb and flow of sound as if it were almost sentient. After this you get “Promenade” which brings up images of Stephan Mathieu’s drone work, it is simply so bright and airy. 

                Disc Two offers its own highlights. “Last Minute Jest” and “Set of Four (Its Meaning Is Deeper Than Its Title Implies)” are gorgeous piano pieces. “The Nightjar” ends things off with a quiet sample repeating ‘looking at yourself’. 

                Maybe there’s something about geography which influences the music one makes. Stars of the Lid had the vast Texas expanse; Kyle grew up in Alberta, pretty similar to Texas’s levels of open space and emptiness. It is always reassuring to have releases this massive, with so much good music to absorb. Personally, I tend to enjoy long-length works when they’re done properly, and Kyle knows exactly the sort of mood he wants.

                Once the music ended, I felt happy. Somehow this music just brightens my day, gives me a more optimistic feel. Think of it as music to comfort you in long winter nights, to have these drones combine with the creaking of your building, of the subtle choir of radiators going off. I absolutely adored this.

Earth – Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light 1 8.3

                Though I’ve written about Earth’s music before (here) I failed to capture his more recent period. Starting with “Hex, Or Printing in the Infernal Method” the project has taken a new approach. Rather than focus exclusively on the hopeless decay of walls of hiss and feedback, the new period is marked by a more optimistic vibe. I’m not implying Earth has gotten poppy or happy, but it gets pretty difficult to outdo him in bleakness.

                As I started this album, I immediately felt certain classical bits I hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps that’s due to a cellist this time around (Lori Goldston, former Nirvana cellist) but I feel Dylan’s grow more willing to let this side show. Of course, he’s always referenced La Monte Young’s work as an influence, but you feel it here with the swirls of sound.

                Lumbering through at their trademark molasses pace, I noticed how they at times evoke a heavier version of Dirty Three. Those dramatic tempos, the grandiose heavy guitars, all conjure up images of heading through a near endless space. Plus, the sound is considerably heavier than their most recent 2008 effort “The Bees Made Honey in the Lion’s Skull”. 

                Oddly, it feels like the most hopeful music I’ve heard from them. I get the image of walking through a cold winter with the sun shining brightly, going up a hill. Where I get such an image is from the crystal clearness of each track, whether it be the emotive tones of “Descent to the Zenith” or the pitch-perfect closer “Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light 1” They’ve cast off whatever pretenses of metal they had. Now they’ve fully embraced the “Spaghetti Western” style they’d been flirting with for so long. 

                If you’re approaching this as a doom metal album, you’ll be disappointed. Rather, a better way to think of this would be a classical/drone album. As a bonus, there’s going to be a part II of this released sometime later this year.

Snowstorm

Ah yes, the first snowstorm of the year has arrived. For a few hours, you sort of stare at it. It possesses certain innocence in the beginning. Nobody’s touched it yet, it is still pure, and it has yet to bother you. Your small step, that one which starts your commute, ruins the little sympathy you have for it, as does digging your car out of the snow, walking through the dangerous parking lot, and realizing that your train has been delayed. Thankfully I didn’t send the night having to sleep on a bus due to the blizzard, though I know a few people did. For those people, you beat the 8 hours I spent stuck on Amtrak. 

                New York should be better prepared for snowstorms, yet it always forgets something in preparation. I’m not sure what, there have been countless ones. Maybe the one in 93 might have been the worst one I could remember. Balls of ice kept hitting me in the face for that winter. They hurt. I felt sad but overcame.

                Times like this I long for my Costa Rican origins. I miss hanging upside in a tree, sleeping, eating low-calorie branches, sleeping, reading The Economist, sleeping some more, partying, sleeping, hanging out with hot sloth babes and sleeping. All that sunshine meant that the fragile chillwave ecosystem could flourish.

                Up in the winter, I just get a bunch of drone artists like William Basinski and Phil Niblock. Neither one of those artists is bad, but I feel that they represent a colder version of me. You see, I used to be much more of an introvert. Magical people convinced me of the importance of going out there and meeting people. College taught me that. People taught me that. But most importantly, music taught me that.

                Snow then cramps my style instead of matching my style like it used to. Instead of reading endless, vaguely depressing books, I read happy, ultra-snobbish books. The current book I’m reading, expect a beautiful book review for it in roughly a year or so (I’m a slow reader).

                What I do like about the snowstorm is it allowed me to contemplate my life, the blogs I read, the people I’ve been fortunate enough to meet, and all the great things that have happened to me. Last year was filled with sadness but I have a strong feeling that in 2011 everything will be better. In fact, there will be a list describing what releases I hope to see and/or look forward to.

Giuseppe Ielasi – Aix 8.4

Giuseppe Ielasi had dealt with drones up until this point. Most of them he showed a particular knack for, not just being engaged in the technical details of it, but the emotional core. With Aix, he continues down this road. 

Born in France, the album comes across as a more random version of Jan Jelinek’s “Loop-Finding Jazz Records”. Unlike Jan’s work, this isn’t as smooth. Noises of zips, aerosol cans, pieces of piano, cut up drones, and whatever else he could get his hands onto are thrown into the mix. Despite this apparently odds and ends collection of sounds, it comes across as a spry little album.

Looking at the album cover, you get a sense of what is in store for you. The bright colors and patterns should prepare you for the music. It is playful, fun, and even includes rubber bands. A rhythm does exist through most of these tracks, though it may be a bit more syncopated than expected for electronic music.

None of the tracks are titled. All are anonymous but each one has its own distinct texture. The opener is great, offering the barest of ingredients; it presents its soul out flatly to the listener. Other songs use even quieter songs to get the point across, it helps to have quiet surroundings and good headphones for this stuff, like for most 12K stuff. Track 8 in particular is beautiful, including a harp, guitar, and horns from far away.

I enjoyed this. This proves how academic exercises can bear fruit emotionally. Even though the sources are vast, there’s not Matmos-like showing off at any point. Rather than having the sounds as gimmicks, they are pieces of the whole.

Vladee Divacc – Technical Foul EP 7.4

Maybe the kids in Tempe, Arizona need something to do. Leave it to the blandest suburbs imaginable that would make people create “Dunkwave”. Apparently Dunkwave is a mixture of noise, drone, and random basketball samples. Before you groan and say “Geez, that sounds like literally the most awful thing ever” give it a listen. I decided to pretend I hadn’t just read what it actually was and put it on.

Vladee Divacc (a reference to the Serbian basketball player Vlade Divac) consists of Edouard Urcadez and Christian Filardo, two young artists from Arizona State University. Together they’ve made an oddly compelling noise/drone act. Plus, they get rid of the usual boring acts by playing in actual basketball courts (though they get kicked out, which is unfortunate).

Right from the get go, you feel the bouncing ball, though it is disguised through various levels of distortion. “Ostertag” has this is in full as you hear the healthy levels of distortion. The word “Ostertag” swims through the delightful muck. 

The vocals grab you though. Sounding like early Pocahaunted vocals, they are sustained for unreasonable periods of time. Mixed with the lower registers, it occasionally transforms into some beautiful moments, like dead in the center of “Drazen Petrovic (Hero)” where they seem to reach a gentle, fleeting moment. “Technical” is just basically vocals for the majority of the song and is shockingly well-done. 

Despite what many might see as a pointless gimmick, it does succeed in what it sets up to do. Basketball suddenly becomes a part of this hyper-weird environment. The gimmick actually helps give it a personality, avoiding the fate of being faceless artists making noise drone music. And at only 12 minutes, it doesn’t overstay its welcome. 

Below is a link to the album, which you can download for free off of bandcamp:

Vladee Divacc
 

Earth – Earth 2 9.5

Following up on the apocalypse theme that runs through so much of the writing on here, I present to you the wonderful sludge doom metal that is Earth 2. Dylan Carlson actually has been responsible for a lot of great stuff under the Earth moniker, but this is easily the best stuff from his early, doom-infused early period before he went towards happier environments.

Part of the appeal of this record is how quickly it drags you in. When interviewed about his influences, Dylan mentioned La Monte Young as a source of inspiration. Listening to the intensely repetitive almost hypnotic structures you do get a sense of a vast space similar to those created by that pioneer. Except here there’s a much bleaker tone due to the excessive threat, feedback and fuzz.

“Seven Angels” starts things up right. This is loud music. Play it loud. Experience it loud. Towards the end of the song all the sustained feedback and fuzz starts creating these interesting overtones that seem to quietly wail. It is excellent.

Deeper tones are explored in “Teeth of Lions Rule the Divine”. Each song (there’s only three) are edited together to make it feel like one continuous pace. The dynamics of every piece only contribute to this feeling. A slow pace mixed with similar focuses make the atmosphere positively oppressive (this is the greatest compliment I can give this).

The closer “Like Gold and Faceted” ends things on a meditative note. Somehow slower than the other two, this one has no melody whatsoever. Barely a riff is present; it is almost pure unaltered droning that expands into infinity. A drum comes in, but it moves at such a slow pace that it feels more like painting than any sort of rhythm. 

If you wanted to know how the band Sleep or Sunn0)))) were inspired, here’s the place. A burly half-insane Washington State resident made this wonderful stuff possible.

The Fun Years – God was like, No 7.7

Let me take an opposing viewpoint on this. A lot of people are comparing this to Tim Hecker or Fennesz. The Tim Hecker reference comes from his use of warm, fuzzy drones. But unlike his stuff, there’s no sterile editing to perfection. Imperfections in the music (like at the end of “Breech on the Bowstring”) are kept in, rather than edited out. Fennesz makes a bit more sense, but again, he’s fonder of cleaner edits without the muck these guys roll around in. So neither one of these really describe what is going on. 

A guitar leads each one of these songs, giving a sort of structure to the often chaotic drones explored. If I had to pick someone similar, I might choose Janek Schaefer. Like him, they kept a lot of the sounds pretty open, often deftly dealing with the edits. This has an analog heart, not the digital one possessed by Tim Hecker or Fennesz. You can feel it, grasp it, and hug it. It is the sound of pure life.

Using a guitar makes the songs feel that much more alive. Hardy any percussion exists on the album, “And They Think My Name is Dequan” being the exception to the rule. After this track we get the most abrasive one the obnoxiously titled: “Get out of the Obese Crowd”. 

Most of the material on here owes some sort of debt to shoegaze. The rhythms are slow, often melodic, and surprisingly catchy. And if I had to pick what might be a single “Makes Sense to Me” would be the easy pick. By bringing in mellow guitar to plod along the drones makes them that much better. 

So if someone says this is like one of the first two, take exception. The editing on here isn’t that meticulous, the cuts are rawer and more visceral than that. You’re better off for it.

William Fowler Collins – Perdition Hill Radio 7.2

William Fowler Collins moved from rural New England to New Mexico, all the while keeping his paranoia intact. Basically Perdition Hill Radio takes an even darker turn towards ominous drone-based music.

Pacing-wise, it works very well. It sounds a lot like a downer version of Stars of the Lid, making me wonder whether or not living in the desert gives you this kind of outlook on sound. Slow, certain, spacious drones fill out each one of these tracks.

The heart of the album is probably the two songs “Dark Country Road” and “On Perdition Hill”. “Dark Country Road” begins innocently enough, with gentle guitar strumming. But what lurks underneath it what makes it so interesting. Slowly that innocence fades away into eternity as a train heads towards you (later to be revisited on the last track). And then things get quiet. 

This gives me hope for dark drone. Perhaps his work with Mesa Ritual might be able to live up to this kind of work.

Nos Phillipé - Nos Phillipé 7.5

Whoa, Robert Hopps and Jonathan Webb, they are not the sort of people you’d want to meet in a dark alleyway. And their hometown of London is sadly filled to the brim with them.

The sonic world within this album is a dark one. Rarely if ever does any light permeate the unhappy world. Familiarity with dark ambient music would definitely be a pre-requisite before approaching this type of stuff. Considering how short they’ve been around before, the quality is pretty remarkable.

“Deacons (Control of the Candidate)” starts things off with a menacing low register drone. Illusion of Safety’s later work immediately comes to mind, particularly their “Of and The” double disc in terms of mood. But the best part of this beginning piece is the end, which collapses into painful scraping sounds.

Actually, while most dark ambient skirts around angry noise, Nos brings you there. Usually the harsh parts get edited out, in an attempt to be artful. Rather than do that terrible tease, the noise is brought. “Live at Café Oto” builds up so nicely until the last third you wonder whether or not the music will reach that release of pure glory. And I’m happy to report it does.

I’d say this isn’t something you’ll put on every day, but the fact that they rise above the generic dark ambient stereotypes into something far more satisfying is a great thing indeed.

Mark Bradley – Dreamstate 7.7

Drone is a word that gets thrown around a lot, often by me. Usually I try to give some idea of what’s going on, what to expect in the massive slabs of sound. Here, I’m so happy to find another artist who truly does excellent drone work.

You know that sound guitars have as they warm up? That warm sound which whets your aural palette, leaving you wanting more? “Reverb Worship” is that sound transformed into an entire song. As soon as it started a smile grew across my face and didn’t end until the last track “All my Ghosts” which sort of brings the whole thing full circle.

Without being overly sentimental, this music makes you happy for reasons you can’t fully explain. One reason that stuck with me was the song “Reverie” used an almost identical decaying melody to what I had written as a song a few years ago. It sort of made me happy that some people still explored this aspect of music, emotional without being overly cheesy and technically proficient as well.

 This really is worth searching out. I’d suggest having it play as you drive early in the morning and get to see the sun slowly rising overhead. There are no surprises, not the smallest bit of an unpleasant shock or increased volume, this is pure blissful drone.

Oh did I mention that the art work is beautiful?