What's New?: 1.12.2014

On today's episode: Brian and friends. . .

Cluster and Eno — self-titled (1977)

Cool vinyl reissue on the always dependable 4 Men With Beards label.  This was first released in 1977, but Eno had been in Germany fiddling about with Hans-Joachim Roedelius, Dieter Moebius and Michael Rother (collectively known as Harmonia, of course; but we'll get to that later) since the previous year.  Cluster is Moebius and Roedelius without Rother and this album is very much akin to the previous year's recordings (though those would not surface until many years later).  There's a lot of doodling, some weirdo sounds and many moments of pure beauty.  This is definitely ambient music in the German sense of things, with Eno just sort of following along (all but one of the titles being in German is certainly a telltale sign).  Have a listen to 'Schöne Hände' for an idea.  It's kind of like Kraftwerk, but, smaller scopes.  Nothing wrong with that.  As a document of a group of musicians getting together at arguably their respective peaks, it's absolute essential.  But Tracks and Traces, I'd say, is overall the better album.

Eno, Moebeius, Roedelius — self-titled (1978)

The second of Eno's collaborations with the guys from Cluster followed the first by a year, but found the trio working in a more dissonant territory.  There's a sequencer being employed here, so things feel a bit more mechanical and intellectualized overall, but the quality still remains high.  Eno takes a few vocals this time out and they're weird, good god are they weird.  For a bit more of the standard ambient sound, check out 'The Shade' for a highlight.  Eno's vocal number 'The Belldog' anticipates synth pop by at least a few years and I'd consider it another highlight.  Overall, hard to not recommend this one, especially if you liked the first one.  Fun stuff.


Brian Eno and Harold Budd — Ambient 2: The Plateau of Mirror (1980)

Harold Budd's first collaboration with Brian Eno establishes Budd as an entirely unique voice on piano.  Eno must have known he was working with a special talent because he mostly leaves Harold Budd's piano alone.  There's a ton of reverb on it, but that's about it.  And it's really quite amazing these melodies that Harold Budd comes up with.  It feels like they've just existed forever in this wash of a dream world's dusk.  Book-ended by the two part 'First Light' and 'Failing Light', it's an album of sheer, haunting beauty that's unlike anything that came before it.  About fourty minutes in length, but it breezes by in no time and rewards close listens or serves as fantastic background music.  It all hangs together exceedingly well, but my pick for the highlight would be the title track.  Really wonderful music.

Brian Eno and Harold Budd — The Pearl (1984)

The second of Budd and Eno's collaborations has often been hailed as an ambient masterpiece and who am I to argue?  Where Plateau of Mirror got by just on its unique sound, the Pearl goes deeper, reaching down into an emotional element that wasn't completely present on the duo's first album.  There is one definitive, big monumental highlight on this one with 'Against the Sky' and its sister song 'An Echo of Night.'  Eerie and with one of the most unexpectedly rewarding chord changes I've come across recently, it's truly the centerpiece on an album of many mini-masterpieces.  Absolutely fantastic.

Harold Budd — By the Dawn's Early Light (1991)

This would be a fine album if Harold didn't feel the need to put his voice on it. I tried to be open minded and just accept that as his artistic decision, but he either sounds like HAL from 2001 or Kermit the Frog and I'm only human, so it's very distracting and disrupts the flow of an otherwise singular-sounding album. Mostly, he recites these cryptic poems, but he actually attempts to sing on 'Saint's Name Spoken' and it's, perhaps surprisingly, the least embarrassing of his vocal attempts.  Otherwise, the pieces on this album are much shorter and, because of the keyboard/guitar/pedal steel/harp and occasional drums of the lineup, it gives the music a very "dawn in the desert" sort of feeling.  Check out 'A Child in a Sylvan Field'  for an idea of what I'm getting at.  Reminds me very much of of Rain Tree Crow in that regard.  It does feel like it runs a little too long, but if you program out the vocal tracks (save for 'Saint's Name Spoken' depending on how you feel about it), you have a pretty wonderful album.

Brian Eno and Robert Fripp — Evening Star (1975)

The first half of this album is just about perfect.  It begins with one of the defining songs of early ambient music on the track 'Wind on Water.'  The song is just pure multi-layered blissout and one of the most beautiful things in either Eno or Fripp's respective catalogues.  You know it.  Robert Fripp's immediately recognizable tone graces the gorgeous title track and it would be a highlight if the album didn't start on the even higher note that it did.  But just as a one-two opening punch, it's hard to do much better.  The rest of side one follows along in the same vein with two more tunes that are a bit more structured. Very pleasant tunes and right in line with the rest of side one.  Then you get to 'An Index of Metals.'  I understand the awesomeness of how it was recorded and that it's a half hour free form noise song from 1975, but boy is it hard to sit through.  More of interest to me as a historical piece than something I actually want to listen to.  The first half of the album is just heaven, though.

~Austin

What's New?: 3.6.2012

Mellow mellow. . .

Michael Hedges — Taproot (1990)

This is more of a full band affair for Mike.  Not crazy about it.  It gets too comfortable in its stock "new age" shoes for my tastes.  Sure, Aerial Boundaries had that kind of ethereal 80's new age production to it, but what struck me about that one was the sparseness of the whole thing.  Here, it just sounds cheesy and overwrought.  A concept album of sorts, it hits me as a case of forced creativity.  Really like when Mike just plays his guitar, but unfortunately, there's not enough of that here to make this album anything more than a curiosity.  Not even David Crosby and Graham Nash could save this one (they contribute background harmonies to the one vocal number on the album, 'I Carry Your Heart').

T. Rex — Unicorn (1969)

I know these early, pre-Electric Warrior T. Rex albums are generally nobody's favorite anything, but I like all of the ones I've managed to find.  Granted, never more than anything from Electric Warrior onward, but I find them to be pretty fun, oftentimes underrated albums of quirky British folk-pop.  And this one is no different, starting off with the somehow Beach Boys-esque 'Chariots of Silk.'  The syncopated piano chords of 'Cat Black' fill out one of the album's biggest productions (and catchiest tunes), while the title track rides a droney, building backdrop to pure delight.  Most of the tracks are between two and three minutes in length, so things fly by really quickly (especially for a sixteen track, fourty minute affair).  But there's just an abundance of great, haunting melodies on display here.  Stuff like 'Evenings of Damask' or 'Iscariot' is just strong.  The whole thing's great and the sequencing is mostly to thank for that, as songs just flow in and out of one another with pure chemistry.  Really does get better the more you listen to it.

Michael Hedges — Breakfast in the Field (1981)

Especially having heard his later stuff first, there's a sense right away that this album is just a demo tape for Michael Hedges.  The first track ('Layover') is a good manifesto for the whole album: a short, thoughtful melody is meditated and danced around, none of the extra virtuoso showboat moments are there and the production is immediate and intimate, with none of the extra effects or polish present.  With the production being what it is, there is a bit more of an acoustic folky vibe to this one.  A song like 'The Unexpected Visitor' is much closer to John Fahey than anything else Michael would probably ever do, for instance.  And, in that respect, for some people, it might be the last good Michael Hedges album.  Overall, really wonderful and tuneful music, considering how sparse it is.  Really like how thoughtful and introspective it becomes at certain points (the closer and only trio performance, 'Lenono', is probably my favorite tune on the album, for instance).  Good stuff.

 Joan Baez — From Every Stage (1975)

You know, Joan Baez just seems like one of those old musicians that has a ginormous back catalogue that I just conveniently ignored for a long time, despite how closely linked she is to one of my favorites.  This two record live album from her 1975 tour is titled as such because it features an all acoustic first half, an all electric second half and many songs from throughout her career up until that point.  I can't say I'm blown away.  The acoustic half presents probably what has been my problem along: I'm just not crazy about her voice.  Too much vibrato, plain and simple.  Good selection of tunes, though (especially appreciated the Leonard Cohen cover).  The electric half on record two features a much slicker approach and and equally as strong selection of tunes.  'Diamonds and Rust' was a big single at the time and the band (featuring such big names as James Jamerson and Larry Carlton) gives it a rendition that mirrors its studio counterpart pretty faithfully.  Still, a good song is a good, no matter the setting.  I wanted to go for an overview sort of album as my first taste, but I can't help but think I could've made a much better selection.  Dah well.

William Ackerman — The Search for the Turtle's Navel (a/k/a In Search of the Turtle's Navel) (1976)

The basis for new age?  Or just a darned good John Fahey imitation?  I can't even say.  I don't know enough about either thing.  Just have a listen to the solo acoustic guitar, multi-movement opener 'The Pink Chiffon Tricycle Queen' and decide for yourself.  As far as I knew, new age music didn't have twang, but here it is, full twang of 'The Second Great Torsion Bar Overland Of West Townshend, Vermont, Jose Pepsi Attending', on Windham Hill records and everything (the first release in that catalogue, in fact).  If I were me at a younger age, I'd have stayed away from the new age section for the rest of my life.  I mean, seriously: how is this new age music?  I always pictured Yanni.  Not actual substance or thought, nor a general respect for space within music.  Oh well.  To the new age section!  In search of more Pentangle-inspired gems like 'Windham Mary.'  That's a good thought too: his guitar seems very informed of John Renbourn's style.  Just check this live performance of 'Processional' and anticipate Jacqui's entrance (spoiler: it never actually happens, but should).  Actually, that's a good comparison, isn't it?  I can't think of a better bridge between trippy folk rock guitarists like John Martyn, Nick Drake and John Renbourn and their post-modern counterparts like Robin Guthrie and Vini Reilly than the so-called "new age" guitarists like Ackerman and Michael Hedges.  There's certainly a lot more common ground between all parties than first meets the eye (er, ear).  This one was Ackerman's first album and he did lots more.  I have some homework to do.

William Ackerman — It Takes A Year (1977)

Although recorded in 1977, the songs on this album date back to being composed as early as 1970.  I guess the one that people remember from this album is the first track, 'The Bricklayer's Beautiful Daughter.'  And that's a good one, for sure.  The title track does venture awful close to new age cheesiness with the sounds of waves being audible in the mix (but then again, I'm reminded of a John Martyn song with similar characteristics from around the same time and that's one of my favorite songs of all time — am I letting my pre-conceived ideas about the record label this is on affect my thoughts on the actual music again?).  'The Townshend Shuffle' is a great track and is straight back into pseudo-bluegrass territory (I get impressions of a less technical Leo Kottke here — not bad at all!).  The tracks 'Rain Sequence' and 'The Search for the Turtle's Navel' successfully bridge the gap for me between the folkies and the new wavers.  It's not really a question of whether or not everybody involved was aware of each other.  The progression was there, regardless.  The chord progressions respect the folk music that came before them, but simultaneously look inward towards something altogether different.  I can see how someone could successfully argue that a song like 'The Search for the Turtle's Navel' is new age music.  I can also see how someone could successfully argue that it's folk music.  Pretty remarkable stuff, when you consider that.

Harold Budd — Lovely Thunder (1986)

After owning several albums where he is a collaborative player for quite some time, I have been more than ready to venture into Harold Budd's catalogue.  When this album kicked off with 'The Gunfighter', I knew I was in for something good.  Yes, it's definitely ambient music, but it has a very dark, almost post-punky undertone to it.  Really eerie music, but in a good, rewarding way.  I picked up this album by chance, because it was what was available to me at the time, but in a serendipitous occurrence, this album contains a re-touching of a song from Harold's collaboration with the Cocteau Twins.  The tune (originally titled 'Memory Gongs' on that album) is re-imagined here as 'Flowered Knife Shadows (for Simon Raymonde).'  Side two of the album is taken up entirely by a piece called 'Gypsy Violin' and it's done in the tradition of the great sidelong Brian Eno epics, but it's actually a bit closer to what Jon Hassell was up to at the time.  Definitely one to experience properly on headphones, but it does have that all-encompassing, dipped into another atmosphere feeling of the best of this stuff.  It's good.  Real good.

~Austin

What's New?: 9.18.2011

A compendium of AWESOME!!!

Ok, that may have been a little much. . . But some good stuff, for sure. . .

Love Tractor — Themes From Venus (1989)

Oh, Love Tractor, you are so deliciously jangly! This is a later one with more of a focus on vocal tracks, but it starts off with the surf 'n jangle pop monster 'I Broke My Saw', so everything is ok. There is a bit more of a rocked up punch to the production, but for 1989 standards, this was super artsy. The instrumentals are all on par with the band's early material and it's just awesome to hear something like the magically melancholy 'Hey Mess' morph into the layered jangly good time instrumental 'Nova Express.' Found this one on a whim, but I'm really glad to have added it to my collection. Hidden gem, for sure.

Waxing Poetics — Hermitage (1986)

A total obscurity from the backburner of the college rock stovetop (not to mention, the Roadrunner Records catalogue). I only glanced at the back cover of this because I didn't know what it was. Finding that I recognized two rather significant names (Mitch Easter, and more importantly, Mike Mills), I was intrigued. Sure glad I took a blind chance on it, because I found a pretty good little jangle album. It does have a bit of a power pop influence to it, and overall, reminds me very much of early R.E.M. Highlights for me are the moody 'Friday's Child', the Ocean Blue-ish 'This Parade' and the very R.E.M.-esque title track. Great stuff for jangle fans; shame it's pretty much an obscurity.

Brian Eno — Taking Tiger Mountain (By Strategy) (1974)

Try to be weird and poppy at the same time, end up sounding like this album. This is a re-acquisition, of sorts. God, he was ahead of the curve. 'Third Uncle' still sounds contemporary. It's supposed to be a concept album, but I've never actually sat down and figured it out. The lyrics are jut too trippy, honestly. In a good way, but sheesh. I'm not figuring that wacky shit out. I mean, what can you say about this album? If the song is totally calm and catchy, the lyrics are completely bizarre ('Put a Straw Under Baby' and 'Burning Airlines Give You So Much More' for instance), but then there's songs where things are just plain weird and out of place ('Third Uncle' and 'China My China'), going off into these noisy, atonal tangents that predict any number of post-punk sub-genres (confusingly, a good three years before such a thing was even possible!!!??!!!?!). Through it all, there's a strange sense of melody going on that is just fantastic. The title track points towards his ambient future, and overall, it's hard to imagine he could get even better.

Brian Eno — Ambient 4: On Land (1982)

Eno's late 70's and early 80's ambient albums are works of sheer mastery. So good, in fact, that people who otherwise don't like a good ambient segue respect the hell out of them, if they don't flat out like them. I have been more and more open to the annals of ambient music these past few years and, I have to say, after years of disregarding Eno's non-pop albums and ambient stuff in general, I've really come to admire his work the most. It has a resonance —dare I say, a soul?— to it that I have yet to find with most other works in the genre. This one starts off with one of his best songs ever on 'Lizard Point.' A shorter piece, it characterizes this album, as it has a clear main theme that is not only discernible, it's actually kind of catchy. The album builds and builds until the second to last track ('A Clearing') and it's clear that this is very emotional music for its creator. He has better ambient albums, but not many.

The Horrors — Skying (2011)

This album has already been addressed. It is a very nice double vinyl edition, with a gatefold cover, full color inner sleeves, heavy 180 gram records and a digital download redemption. I expect nothing less from the folks over at XL.

Shelleyan Orphan — Helleborine (1987)

Completing my collection of the early Shelleyan Orphan stuff. It strikes me as "Baroque Pop" in the best sort of way. They have that string and woodwind accompaniment, but with an acoustic strummy guitar base that just appeals to me. It's like post-punk folk. This is their first album, and probably their most produced one, oddly. Although it contains arguably their best song ever with the seven minute album closing epic 'Melody of Birth.' Side two of the album is definitely the overall stronger one, but it's hard to call the album anything but a pure success, with other highlights like 'One Hundred Hands' and 'Jeremiah.' Fantastic stuff from a sadly forgotten band.

Aztec Camera — Still on Fire EP (1984)

Hard to see that spine on the scan above, but this is the 12" I picked up. I'm the last person that can claim objectivity when it comes to Roddy Frame, as to me, the guy practically invented my favorite brand of rock music, so take that as you will. This one contains the fantastic single from Knife, along with two live tracks that I previously had on an American ten inch EP, along with live versions of two High Land Hard Rain classics, 'Walk Out to Winter' and an absolutely stunning 'The Boy Wonders.' Sure, I'm rating it on the strength of two (new to me) live renditions of songs that I've known for years, but hey, when you're a whore, you're a whore for all of it. Hard to believe a band that sounded that good and that passionate got so. . . well, shit on. This is the sort of thing I collect vinyl for. Now I just need to track down that extended nine minute 12" mix of 'Walk Out to Winter.' And those Love-era b-sides. Oh yeah!

Cocteau Twins/Harold Budd — The Moon and the Melodies (1986)

It's good — really good. But, besides the straight ambient songs, the proper songs are really no new revelation for the band. Still, when you're hot, you're hot. And it should come as no surprise that amongst the proper songs, 'Sea, Swallow Me' and 'She Will Destroy You' are pretty much in the top tier of Cocteaus material. The ambient tracks are really, really good. But, they do sacrifice the cohesiveness of the album. It would have been nice to follow Bowie and Eno's precedent and do all the pop songs on one side and all the ambient stuff on the other. But, no points taken away for them trying something different. I want to say I've heard this album in passing before (shoutout to Chris Hubbell when he was in one of his mellow moods, perhaps?). I've neglected this post-Treasure Cocteaus material for too long.

The Soft Boys — Underwater Moonlight (1980)

I've told myself I would buy this album without ever having heard a single note of it if I ever saw it, quite literally, for years. Well, that day finally came and I made good on my promise to myself. It's been said that the Soft Boys were the very first jangle band, and after hearing this, I can't properly agree with that, but I definitely understand that they were important as hell to the scene. It's a bit more new wave all around in its philosophy. But definitely has moments of 12-string jangle that are completely out of place for 1980 (and yet, the Feelies released Crazy Rhythms the same year — just sayin'). I'd actually place this one very much in with Paisley Underground crowd from the west of the US. It has absolutely nothing to do with that scene, but does its sound not fit right in? The title track here is a totally awesome Byrds-revival jangler that must have sounded completely wrong in 1980. But, oh so right. Robyn Hitchcock went on to more notoriety after the band, but it has never held my interest much. This stuff is like jangle pop filtered through an odd druggy stream of conscious early 80's haze. Gotta love it. Quintessential stuff for me.

Travis — Good Feeling (1997)

The first track is 'All I Want to Do is Rock' and indeed, amongst the overdriven guitars and gutty vocals from Fran Healy, this is the band's most Brit-poppy album. The tunes are there, but hearing it now for the first time in retrospect, it is very dated. Much of what made the band so great from The Man Who onwards is not really present (or, at least, not very apparent). Most of the songs have big guitars up front and semi-whiney vocals. The reggae rock of the title track hints at the songcraft that the band had up its sleeve, while 'Tied to the 90's is a surprisingly lucid realization of the band's own mortality. The second half leans on ballads heavily and that's where the hints of the greatness that was to come shone through. Still though, easily the band's worst album, even though it does hint at where they would go.

Travis — Ode to J. Smith (2008)

Within the first three tracks ('Chinese Blues', 'J. Smith' and 'Something Anything'), it's a pure and complete contrast (in a good way) with Good Feeling. These three songs rock out more than anything the band had done since that first album, but they are more polished, more layered and just all around more well-thought out than anything on Good Feeling. Granted, for the first third of this album, the band's guitars sound more ferocious than they have in a decade, but their songcraft is as good as ever. So, when things evolve back into their now-stock jangle sound on 'Quite Free', it sounds natural and fluid. I do prefer the calmer second half of the album, but you have to really marvel at how good Travis has become at what they do. With this album, they have become what Coldplay wishes they were: a pop band that actually plays challenging riffs and meaningful changes. They are this generation's interpretation of Crowded House.

Keith Murray — Enigma (1996)

Another mostly Erick Sermon-produced mid-90's gem. I did have this one on cassette in high school (for car listening, of course), so I guess this is a re-acquisition. God, the beats on this album are just. . . wow. I never would have arrived at this at the time, but when I started making beats in late '98, I was subconsciously trying to make beats like on this album. Jesus, 'The Rhyme'? Do you know how many of my beats sound like that? That song is so good, I didn't even realize I was copying it. Keith is on some complete and pure nonsense on the mic the entire time. It's like the beats are these bass-heavy, vibed out mellow masterpieces (think G-funk, but with better drums) and Keith is saying stuff like, "Fuck you, comin' from the 'Fuck you' man" the entire time. So, yeah. But, good beats are worth their weight in gold and this album still sounds great. The last two proper tracks are surprisingly lucid, humble as they may be as attempts at poignancy. 'To My Mans' has a beat that should make any MC jealous while 'World be Free' is an unnecessarily aggressively meditation on the awesomeness of travel that only a hiphop album could pull off. An early Jay Dee production on the masterful Bill Evans-sampling 'The Rhyme' remix closes things out and I have a really hard time not loving this album, even after all this time.

Cocteau Twins — Milk + Kisses (1996)

As a first step taken to dive into that later Cocteaus material that I felt I was neglecting, I saw this album used on the shelf and went for it. I know some versions of these songs from the Lullabies to Violaine set from a few years ago. But, mostly, I was marveling at how good the Twins still sounded so late in their career. Nothing changed really, besides nuances in production, and they're still able to sound undeniably like themselves. 'Half-Gifts' totally rips off 'Suzanne' and still manages to sound great. 'Seekers Who are Lovers' is the sort of vintage Cocteaus song that must have sounded like it was from another planet in 1996. I wish they would reunite, honestly.

More shortly on the way. . .

~Austin