So what's Follycle going to do with his blog for Christmas, you ask? Well, seeing as I'm a Jew, I really don't *have* to do anything. But I'm a nice guy, so I will. And today's gift is the upload and review of two tremendous CDs, Bath and Leaving Your Body Map by Maudlin of the Well.
I hope you enjoy them as much or more as I do.
Rating: 9.4/9.1
Toby Driver is famous in progressive rock circles these days largely because of his current main band, Kayo Dot, whose two albums have made waves. However, before Toby Driver was well known, he was in this obscure, out-of-print metal band named Maudlin of the Well, and what a band it was. They managed only three CDs, the latter two of which were released as companion pieces.
Maudlin of the Well is, in essence, about what you might expect if Kayo Dot were to write actual songs instead of the flowing pieces that mark their sound. Whereas Kayo Dot is using radical new song structures, Maudlin of the Well innovated slightly more quietly, twisting existing song structures in new ways. The result is what one might call astral metal. It mixes the ambience of post-rock and the aggression of metal, but not at all like post-metal bands such as Isis. Instead, Maudlin of the Well’s sound is built around its hypnotic qualities.
Bath is the more melodically inclined of the companion CDs, even in its most metal moments. One listen to the first song, “The Blue Ghost/Shedding Qliphoth,” with its two short musical phrases that intertwine with a beautiful melody, displays this fully. When it hits you the right way (which takes a few listens), it becomes absolutely transfixing. Following this is “They Aren’t All Beautiful,” which seems at first to be the polar opposite. It is based around a mish-mash of three or four brutally heavy riffs. However, repeated listens (which are needed to grasp all the complexities and subtleties) show that this death metal cocktail is just as hypnotic as the atmospheric textures of “The Blue Ghost/Shedding Quliphoth.”
Throughout the rest of the CD, the music hovers within the range established by the first two songs, often mixing the two. This is best seen in “The Ferryman,” which starts with beautiful organ followed by even more beautiful guitar strumming, then grows into a tremendously heavy monster, then mixes the organ with the riffing. Also notable is “Heaven and Weak,” which starts out very beautifully (in the traditional sense), then grows into a massive bone-crushing riff. In between these, however, is a section that has a textural riff, vocals, and a guitar solo all going at once. However, it is structured in such a way that it doesn’t sound cluttered. That is truly the genius of this CD. It takes convention and turns it on its head, mixing that that seemingly shouldn’t be mixed and making it sound good, and, most importantly, keeping an entirely uncluttered sound where other bands would be unable to do so.
Almost immediately, Leaving Your Body Map establishes itself as different beast than Bath. Whereas “The Blue Ghost/Shedding Qliphoph” barely got loud at all, and even then only at the end, “Stones of October’s Sobbing” lets only a minute and a half go by before entering an interesting with an only mildly heavy backing and “cookie monster” (though still decipherable) vocals in the forefront. Once the ultra-fast riff enters, there’s no doubt, and for the rest of the CD, Leaving Your Body Map continues this trend of being more immediate and heavier. That said, the album still has the same effect as Bath, inducing a trance-like state on the listener. It manages it in different, faster, louder, and more initially exciting manners, but it is ultimately the flip side of the same coin as Bath.
Leaving Your Body Map retains the complexities and subtleties of its predecessor. Just listen to the section that I mentioned in “Stones of October’s Sobbing.” In that section, a mildly distorted, non-aggressive guitar line is mixed with highly aggressive growled vocals and a beautiful woodwind phrase that pops up again and again. Even when the CD seems obvious, such as on “Gleam in the Ranks” and “Riseth He, The Numberless (Part 1),” there is more going on than meets the eye. On “Gleam in the Ranks,” a guitar line races through a set of tight-knit riffs, backed by a pounding rhythm and dynamic vocals. Little things pop up at each turn, however, such as the keyboards that show themselves near the beginning. “Riseth He, The Numberless (Part 1)” achieves the same effect in a different manner. After a one minute introduction on the trumpet, it shifts to what seems to be a straightforward death metal song. However, there is not one riff but three or four, each similar in feel but at different speeds and with slightly different notes.
It is these types of subtleties that make Bath and Leaving Your Body Map such interesting albums. However, they are more than just complex “astral metal” CDs. There is also the purely beautiful on each. The four “Interlude” tracks are all fairly simple, beautiful instrumentals, and songs such as “Sleep is a Curse” from Leaving Your Body Map and “Geography” from Bath are similarly gorgeous. The subtleties may make the CDs interesting, but it is the diversity that makes them so ultimately captivating. As Bath and Leaving Your Body Map both show, Maudlin of the Well are one of the greatest bands the world of metal has seen. Extremely recommended.
Here you go.
Maudlin of the Well
Showing posts with label Downloadable. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Downloadable. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Honeyelk - Stoyz Vi Dozeveloy (1979)
Rating: 5.0
Within every genre are a fair share of obscure bands/albums, zeuhl not excluded. In some cases, it's impossible to understand why these bands are obscure given the high quality of the music. In other cases, it's not hard whatsoever to see the (admittedly cruel) logic behind the obscurity. Honeyelk, sadly, is one of the latter. While certainly not bad, their music is really only for the decided zeuhl fanatic.
For one thing, the music itself is only okay at best. While it has some nice keyboard work, even that is overshadowed by the far more exquisite work in that regard by Magma, Koenjihyakkei, Weidorje, Eider Stellaire, Eskaton, and just about any other well-regarded zeuhl band you can name. The keys mostly consist of jazzy chords, leaving some sort of jazz instrument to play the leading melodies, which are mostly decent but not entirely interesting or timeworthy. That's not to say they're bad, just unengaging. I will point out, however, that the drumming throughout Stoyz Vi Dozeveloy is top-notch, giving the music life where it would otherwise have none. Accompanying this is some wonderful driving bass guitar that makes for a killer rhythm section. Unfortunately, just a rhythm section is not enough in the world of zeuhl, and the other instruments fail to live up (except for the vocals). In addition, the songwriting is only decent, with several points where the music stops in order to transition to another section, rather than actually transitioning musically.
The music is not the biggest problem with this CD, however. In fact, I find it quite enjoyable from time to time. The real killer for this album is the sound quality. While I normally don't care too much about sound quality, it's poor enough here that even I take notice. For a true audiophile, I could see it as a huge inhibition to enjoying the album.
That aside, this album really does have some moments of brilliance, particularly during the instrumental sections where the rhythm section is dominant. This one is really only for the zeuhl completionist, but it's a good album nonetheless. Or, I should say, it's a decent album nonetheless. All-around, it really comes across as average, and thus the obscurity is understandable, what with all the really good music coming out almost every day (or so it seems).
Stoyz Vi Dozeveloy
Within every genre are a fair share of obscure bands/albums, zeuhl not excluded. In some cases, it's impossible to understand why these bands are obscure given the high quality of the music. In other cases, it's not hard whatsoever to see the (admittedly cruel) logic behind the obscurity. Honeyelk, sadly, is one of the latter. While certainly not bad, their music is really only for the decided zeuhl fanatic.
For one thing, the music itself is only okay at best. While it has some nice keyboard work, even that is overshadowed by the far more exquisite work in that regard by Magma, Koenjihyakkei, Weidorje, Eider Stellaire, Eskaton, and just about any other well-regarded zeuhl band you can name. The keys mostly consist of jazzy chords, leaving some sort of jazz instrument to play the leading melodies, which are mostly decent but not entirely interesting or timeworthy. That's not to say they're bad, just unengaging. I will point out, however, that the drumming throughout Stoyz Vi Dozeveloy is top-notch, giving the music life where it would otherwise have none. Accompanying this is some wonderful driving bass guitar that makes for a killer rhythm section. Unfortunately, just a rhythm section is not enough in the world of zeuhl, and the other instruments fail to live up (except for the vocals). In addition, the songwriting is only decent, with several points where the music stops in order to transition to another section, rather than actually transitioning musically.
The music is not the biggest problem with this CD, however. In fact, I find it quite enjoyable from time to time. The real killer for this album is the sound quality. While I normally don't care too much about sound quality, it's poor enough here that even I take notice. For a true audiophile, I could see it as a huge inhibition to enjoying the album.
That aside, this album really does have some moments of brilliance, particularly during the instrumental sections where the rhythm section is dominant. This one is really only for the zeuhl completionist, but it's a good album nonetheless. Or, I should say, it's a decent album nonetheless. All-around, it really comes across as average, and thus the obscurity is understandable, what with all the really good music coming out almost every day (or so it seems).
Stoyz Vi Dozeveloy
Archaia - Archaia (1977)
Rating: 7.7
Of all the strains of progressive rock floating around, the one that most consistently earns the bombastic label so often smeared across the entire prog genre is zeuhl. Not that that's a bad thing, of course. If you've heard the albums that most deserve the title (albums such as Magma's M.D.K. and Koenjihyakkei's Angherr Shisspa), you will know that they consist of some of the most amazing music ever released. Naturally, however, that characteristic doesn't carry over across all Zeuhl CDs. Archaia's sole release, a 1977 self-titled, is one of those Zeuhl albums that shies away from the bombast of Magma and Koenjihyakkei (the "Japanese Magma").
Instead of dominant jazz influences and operatic vocals, Archaia opts for a single vocalist and a far more stripped down rock sound (though without any drums, just some percussion). This they augment with electronics, creating a highly trippy yet distinctly Zeuhl sound. In fact, I'd go so far as to list this among the top five trippiest CDs I've ever heard, up with the likes of Brainticket's Cottonwoodhill.
At this point, if you're a Zeuhl-head, you're probably drooling at the sound of what I've described. Is such drooling warranted? Yes, to an extent. This CD will strike every listener differently, even dedicated Zeuhl-heads such as myself. When I first got the CD, I was underwhelmed, but it quickly rose to rank among my top 15 CDs of all time. Only two months or so later, however, it had fallen to below where it was after my first listen. To complete the cycle, of course, more recent listens have seen it again rise a bit in my eyes. And thus, while I wouldn't call it genius, it is a CD every fan of Zeuhl should hear.
There are some parts of this CD that are absolutely incredible, but these are balanced by those that are less so. For example, the opening two songs pack an incredible punch. In particular, "L'Arche Des Mutations" stands out as a zeuhl quasi-epic within the framework of the CD, taking trippiness to new heights and sounding amazing the entire journey. "Massa Confusa," on the other hand, never quite recovers from the terribly dated sound effects that plague its beginning. Other than those two highs and that one low, the album is fairly consistent, however. The only other notable problem I can point out is on "Le Festin Du Lion Vert," which starts out as the most interesting piece on the CD, then devolves slightly in decent but much less interesting tribal percussion.
Unfortunately, this CD is out of print (though one can always hope Soleil Zeuhl will re-reissue it on CD), and the LP often fetches $300 or more. As such, you're not likely to get your hands on a copy unless you're willing to download it. That's not a reflection on the quality of the CD, however, just on Zeuhl's obscurity. I heartily recommend this gem to all who love Zeuhl and want something different from Magma. This gem just might be the one you're looking for.
Archaia
Of all the strains of progressive rock floating around, the one that most consistently earns the bombastic label so often smeared across the entire prog genre is zeuhl. Not that that's a bad thing, of course. If you've heard the albums that most deserve the title (albums such as Magma's M.D.K. and Koenjihyakkei's Angherr Shisspa), you will know that they consist of some of the most amazing music ever released. Naturally, however, that characteristic doesn't carry over across all Zeuhl CDs. Archaia's sole release, a 1977 self-titled, is one of those Zeuhl albums that shies away from the bombast of Magma and Koenjihyakkei (the "Japanese Magma").
Instead of dominant jazz influences and operatic vocals, Archaia opts for a single vocalist and a far more stripped down rock sound (though without any drums, just some percussion). This they augment with electronics, creating a highly trippy yet distinctly Zeuhl sound. In fact, I'd go so far as to list this among the top five trippiest CDs I've ever heard, up with the likes of Brainticket's Cottonwoodhill.
At this point, if you're a Zeuhl-head, you're probably drooling at the sound of what I've described. Is such drooling warranted? Yes, to an extent. This CD will strike every listener differently, even dedicated Zeuhl-heads such as myself. When I first got the CD, I was underwhelmed, but it quickly rose to rank among my top 15 CDs of all time. Only two months or so later, however, it had fallen to below where it was after my first listen. To complete the cycle, of course, more recent listens have seen it again rise a bit in my eyes. And thus, while I wouldn't call it genius, it is a CD every fan of Zeuhl should hear.
There are some parts of this CD that are absolutely incredible, but these are balanced by those that are less so. For example, the opening two songs pack an incredible punch. In particular, "L'Arche Des Mutations" stands out as a zeuhl quasi-epic within the framework of the CD, taking trippiness to new heights and sounding amazing the entire journey. "Massa Confusa," on the other hand, never quite recovers from the terribly dated sound effects that plague its beginning. Other than those two highs and that one low, the album is fairly consistent, however. The only other notable problem I can point out is on "Le Festin Du Lion Vert," which starts out as the most interesting piece on the CD, then devolves slightly in decent but much less interesting tribal percussion.
Unfortunately, this CD is out of print (though one can always hope Soleil Zeuhl will re-reissue it on CD), and the LP often fetches $300 or more. As such, you're not likely to get your hands on a copy unless you're willing to download it. That's not a reflection on the quality of the CD, however, just on Zeuhl's obscurity. I heartily recommend this gem to all who love Zeuhl and want something different from Magma. This gem just might be the one you're looking for.
Archaia
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Horde Catalytique Pour La Fin - Gestation Sonore (1971)
Rating 9.8
Every so often, a band's music is given the label "post-apocalyptic," but rarely does the music actually deserve it. In the case of Horde Catalytique Pour La Fin and their sole recording, Gestation Sonore, however, there can be no doubt whatsoever. Not only does this CD deserve the label, it positively defines it. There is no music more appropriate to be playing should an atomic world war come around. Just look at the band's name for starters. It translates to Catalytic Horde for the End, the end of course implying the end of the world (or, at least, one would assume).
But aside from the name, what is it about Gestation Sonore that makes it more deserving of the post-apocalyptic label than any other music before or after? Well, it is dissonant, difficult, obtuse, and downright frightening, and yet it is also beautiful. It lacks any notion of form (at least as you know it), and yet it possesses a flow most artists would die to have in their music. It creates bleak soundscapes only to disrupt them violently with bursts of action. It appeals to the heart, yet simultaneously bruises the mind and shreds the ears. In short, it is one of the best CDs you will ever hear, assuming you can tolerate the lack of any hooks, any flake of accessibility.
Make no mistake about the unaccessible nature of this music. Gestation Sonore makes Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica sound like radio fodder. Even those who, like I, have trained their ears to be open to any sort of sound will need time to get into this music, simply because the first listen (and probably several subsequent ones) will be spent trying to figure out exactly what is happening. At some point, however, it will all start to make sense, and it's true beauty will start to show through.
And what beauty it is. It's not beauty in the traditional sense, but it is beauty nonetheless, though the effect is hard to describe. Suffice it to say that if you listen to this album, around the fifth listen or so you will start to see what I (and others) mean when describing this music as beautiful. And even if you don't, you must still marvel at this album, for Gestation Sonore is the work of mind-readers, I guarantee you. How else could the notes come together so perfectly in this 100% improvised setting? How else could these musicians create music that resounds with enough power to steal away the listener's breath from start to finish? I honestly couldn't tell you, but I know from listening that, somehow, it happened. Perfectly.
This CD may only appeal to a small minority of the music-listening community, but if you are one of those few, this will strike you as one of the greatest things ever to happen to music. And, indeed, that is exactly what it is.
Gestation Sonore
Every so often, a band's music is given the label "post-apocalyptic," but rarely does the music actually deserve it. In the case of Horde Catalytique Pour La Fin and their sole recording, Gestation Sonore, however, there can be no doubt whatsoever. Not only does this CD deserve the label, it positively defines it. There is no music more appropriate to be playing should an atomic world war come around. Just look at the band's name for starters. It translates to Catalytic Horde for the End, the end of course implying the end of the world (or, at least, one would assume).
But aside from the name, what is it about Gestation Sonore that makes it more deserving of the post-apocalyptic label than any other music before or after? Well, it is dissonant, difficult, obtuse, and downright frightening, and yet it is also beautiful. It lacks any notion of form (at least as you know it), and yet it possesses a flow most artists would die to have in their music. It creates bleak soundscapes only to disrupt them violently with bursts of action. It appeals to the heart, yet simultaneously bruises the mind and shreds the ears. In short, it is one of the best CDs you will ever hear, assuming you can tolerate the lack of any hooks, any flake of accessibility.
Make no mistake about the unaccessible nature of this music. Gestation Sonore makes Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica sound like radio fodder. Even those who, like I, have trained their ears to be open to any sort of sound will need time to get into this music, simply because the first listen (and probably several subsequent ones) will be spent trying to figure out exactly what is happening. At some point, however, it will all start to make sense, and it's true beauty will start to show through.
And what beauty it is. It's not beauty in the traditional sense, but it is beauty nonetheless, though the effect is hard to describe. Suffice it to say that if you listen to this album, around the fifth listen or so you will start to see what I (and others) mean when describing this music as beautiful. And even if you don't, you must still marvel at this album, for Gestation Sonore is the work of mind-readers, I guarantee you. How else could the notes come together so perfectly in this 100% improvised setting? How else could these musicians create music that resounds with enough power to steal away the listener's breath from start to finish? I honestly couldn't tell you, but I know from listening that, somehow, it happened. Perfectly.
This CD may only appeal to a small minority of the music-listening community, but if you are one of those few, this will strike you as one of the greatest things ever to happen to music. And, indeed, that is exactly what it is.
Gestation Sonore
Friday, November 16, 2007
Nurse With Wound - Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of a Sewing Machine and an Umbrella (1980)
Rating: 8.2
Nurse With Wound (brainchild of Steven Stapleton) is a semi-legendary band that has traversed a multitude of genres (including but not limited to: industrial, ambient, drone, and krautrock) and helped advance techniques of tape manipulation. Not only that, but Stapleton’s band is known for the infamous Nurse With Wound list, a list of the bands that influenced Nurse With Wound (many of them rare and highly obscure). For many, this list serves as a buying guide, especially for those who want to own a CD from every artist on the list.
I don’t know anywhere close to all of Nurse With Wound’s output, but what I do know, I love. Whether it’s the eerie minimalism of Homotopy to Marie (often seen as Stapleton’s magnum opus), the tranquil yet evocative drones of Soliloquy to Lilith, or the all over the map A Sucked Orange (a collection of material from most of the band’s eras), Nurse With Wound seems incapable of disappointing me (well, the album Crocodile Crazy Glue is rather unimpressive in my view, but that’s it). Thankfully, this trend holds true for their debut CD, the strangely titled Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of a Sewing Machine and an Umbrella (hereby known just as Chance Meeting).
Sadly, Steven Stapleton doesn’t consider this CD (or any before Homotopy to Marie to be a proper Nurse With Wound CD. At this point, Nurse With Wound was actually a band (with multiple members), rather than the name for Steven Stapleton’s solo work. I really don’t care what Stapleton thinks, however, as this is an incredible CD, one of the best industrial records you will ever hear. This music is timeless, and one of the definitive pieces of evidence that the eighties were actually quite rich musically, if only one cares to scratch below the surface of what was popular at the time.
With only three songs, Chance Meeting’s running time is surprisingly long (nearing fifty minutes), but most of those fifty are well spent. Look at the second track, “The Six Buttons of Sex Appeal,” if you need proof. Clocking in at roughly thirteen minutes, “The Six Buttons of Sex Appeal” contains crazed guitar screeches, burst of electronic noise, and a muffled drum beat the holds it all together. While certainly not structured in any conventional way, this song still has a sense of form that keeps it cohesive and interesting and makes it the standout of the CD. That’s not to say the rest is weak, however. While the first song seems somewhat inconsequential next to the other two, it’s certainly not bad, and “Blank Capsule of Embroidered Cellophane” is an absolute monster of a track if there ever was one. While not every idea contained in its twenty-nine minutes works, most of them do, and those that do work work exceedingly well.
Unfortunately, this CD is out of print and will probably cost you $35 (or more) to buy, so I can really only recommend it to those who already know and love Nurse With Wound or are fans of industrial music. For those who want to discover Nurse With Wound, start with the far more readily available A Sucked Orange. This album is certainly very good, another one of those lost masterpieces. While not a full masterpiece in its own right, it’s still well worth owning for fans of music that’s “out there.”
I rate it with a B+ (excellent).
And since it's OOP:
Chance Meeting...
Nurse With Wound (brainchild of Steven Stapleton) is a semi-legendary band that has traversed a multitude of genres (including but not limited to: industrial, ambient, drone, and krautrock) and helped advance techniques of tape manipulation. Not only that, but Stapleton’s band is known for the infamous Nurse With Wound list, a list of the bands that influenced Nurse With Wound (many of them rare and highly obscure). For many, this list serves as a buying guide, especially for those who want to own a CD from every artist on the list.
I don’t know anywhere close to all of Nurse With Wound’s output, but what I do know, I love. Whether it’s the eerie minimalism of Homotopy to Marie (often seen as Stapleton’s magnum opus), the tranquil yet evocative drones of Soliloquy to Lilith, or the all over the map A Sucked Orange (a collection of material from most of the band’s eras), Nurse With Wound seems incapable of disappointing me (well, the album Crocodile Crazy Glue is rather unimpressive in my view, but that’s it). Thankfully, this trend holds true for their debut CD, the strangely titled Chance Meeting on a Dissecting Table of a Sewing Machine and an Umbrella (hereby known just as Chance Meeting).
Sadly, Steven Stapleton doesn’t consider this CD (or any before Homotopy to Marie to be a proper Nurse With Wound CD. At this point, Nurse With Wound was actually a band (with multiple members), rather than the name for Steven Stapleton’s solo work. I really don’t care what Stapleton thinks, however, as this is an incredible CD, one of the best industrial records you will ever hear. This music is timeless, and one of the definitive pieces of evidence that the eighties were actually quite rich musically, if only one cares to scratch below the surface of what was popular at the time.
With only three songs, Chance Meeting’s running time is surprisingly long (nearing fifty minutes), but most of those fifty are well spent. Look at the second track, “The Six Buttons of Sex Appeal,” if you need proof. Clocking in at roughly thirteen minutes, “The Six Buttons of Sex Appeal” contains crazed guitar screeches, burst of electronic noise, and a muffled drum beat the holds it all together. While certainly not structured in any conventional way, this song still has a sense of form that keeps it cohesive and interesting and makes it the standout of the CD. That’s not to say the rest is weak, however. While the first song seems somewhat inconsequential next to the other two, it’s certainly not bad, and “Blank Capsule of Embroidered Cellophane” is an absolute monster of a track if there ever was one. While not every idea contained in its twenty-nine minutes works, most of them do, and those that do work work exceedingly well.
Unfortunately, this CD is out of print and will probably cost you $35 (or more) to buy, so I can really only recommend it to those who already know and love Nurse With Wound or are fans of industrial music. For those who want to discover Nurse With Wound, start with the far more readily available A Sucked Orange. This album is certainly very good, another one of those lost masterpieces. While not a full masterpiece in its own right, it’s still well worth owning for fans of music that’s “out there.”
I rate it with a B+ (excellent).
And since it's OOP:
Chance Meeting...
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