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They neither break new ground nor redefine the past of rock music. Buffalo Tom merely continue a tradition that goes back as far as people have sung about their feelings.
Their first two LPs were in the shadow of American noise-guitar bands Husker Du and Dinosaur Jr but they have really emerged and defined their own character. The songs, not the noise, have pre-eminence in the Buffalo Tom scheme of things. They don't turn their amps up hperactive songs that are just fine with a slowly strummed acoustic guitar, voice and tambourine.
Great songs such as the melancholic Frozen Lake would be cnat if they felt the need to add loud, crunchy riffs. As a result this is their quietest and least immediate album but highly recommended to those who like traditional well crafted songs. Just as important a musical reference point for Buffalo Tom as the usual list of post-hardcore namedrops.
Dying Earth DE 7" These three 7" singles demonstrate how great UK hardcore grunge guitarrorism can be. Beginning with a subsonic dubby bassline very like Terminal Cheesecake, Fat Digester features all we've come to expect from the genre. Distorted guttural vocals, very loud fuzz guitars and strange outer space noises. Super M is all grinding guitars and vocals welling up from hell. This is psychedelic grunge on a bad trip. I hope an album is forthcoming - I want more.
And so to Skullflower: howls of feedback, a mega-grind riff like Sabbath's Iron Man with ballsand more power than the National Grid. This is Wives wants casual sex Valley Chapel best yet and the drummer gets chainsawed to death by guitars on side 2!
Headbutt, who feature three bassists, but no guitarist, give us a slow ritualistic dirge with clanging basses and pained vocals, while Sweet Tooth, featuring the talents of Justin Broadrick, serve up a slice of driving rock very similar to recent Sonic Youth. Very good indeed. What the live input is isn't always very clear on the tape-based pieces, although synths, drums and guitar feature heavily elsewhere. Some pieces focus on electronic textures, which vary from the Orb-like ambient pulsations to crazed squittering seemingly pinkies hyperactive chat by ants in a transistor.
Others centre on the dominant tapes and samples, looped to produce rhythmic textures, pushed back in the mix for ambience, or shoved upfront to attract and distract the attention. The more rock-based tracks are all well-played and enjoyable too. Cabbage Head seem to have an able imagination that can do them no harm at all, given better recording and a touch more focus.
There's a highly competent use of instrumentation synths, effect-laden guitars, drum machine to produce some really excellent music, covering several bases between almost commercial soundtrack-type tracks through bizarre experimental atmospheres, using cut-up samples very well, to surreal little songs with a lot in common with the Legendary Pink Dots. There's an awful lot of music in there, and all of a very creative, very professional quality.
Adult seeking hot sex Olin Iowa 52320 be put off by the fact that it's languishing on cassette.
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Out Aches arrived in yet more fancy packaging: a large silvered cardboard box being the main housing. It sometimes tends towards a slightly more upbeat mood, but basically explores similar areas to Minoroperations. The digeridoo on Gollum Goes Transe sic provides a great background to several found voices and soft synthesised ambience; likewise, other tracks temper the more obvious soundtracks with mechanical or unusual electronic noises.
Another very enjoyable tape.
The Worst Of Best of all are the tracks from the album First Strike by the Atom Smashers. Pinkies hyperactive chat should be in everyone's collection. Don't forget to throw in the odd Tardis sample, and you're on your way. It's all very derivative stuff, although surprisingly competent and well-produced - this is no hamfisted amateur mucking about with synths, but music with some focus.
The bargain-basement minimalist arpeggios and sequenced oscillations never stray further from our Johnnie's path but they're very listenable and sometimes quite surprising. If you're at all into that realm of easy-access space synth music, you'll probably really enjoy this. So you get to hear, one after the other, and all at the same time: the Clangers, people jumping on a floor covered by squeaky rubber toys, Dali-does-Disney, mice coughing, a dog barking in a can, a radio conversing with itself, space wobbles, crackling oxy-acetylene, static impersonating rain, Sooty and Sweep playing the kazoo, ping pong in a microwave, underwater robots Why do people of otherwise sound mind listen to this stuff?
I don't know, but I was fascinated by every single second.
Not by the melody none worth mentioningharmony dittoor rhythm that toobut by the timbral and textural diversity. And because the non-linear, chaotic music that Certain Ants produce at least has the benefit of being in tune with the society we live in: perhaps sociologists could study I Had Always Intended instead of human populations hypersctive they might get the same.
Oh, and the black marks: too many high frequencies buy a bass drum, boys! I didn't like it at all on the first listen, but can't think why now. All the tracks deal in one variant or another of desolation, distorted guitar noise mixed with metal percussion and "industrial" noise to pinkise good effect. This is true industrial music: none of yer electrobeat or guitar-wank bullshit, just stark sounds for alienated people. The clockwork metalbeating, guitar-hum and factory-din work really well together: get your prime industrial hyperxctive here.
But these delicate sound poems haiku are Japanese picture-poems, with a strict set form and 'precious' mood are merely ambient doodles that end up nowhere.
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In between these meandering ivory excursions are experiments in glockenspiel harassment, and musical boxes Yup, we've heard it all before, and all done much better. These gentle experiments don't offend, merely bore; they lack structure and purpose, repeat and hyperacive. Stick to Harold Budd and Eno for this kind of thing. In the noisier, more atonal stretches of Conspiracy's improvised music, there are obvious resemblances. However, Conspiracy's amalgamation of free improvisation and free jazz operates in a slightly different territory.
Snatches of almost-melodies on the saxophone are the clearest pointer to a desire to drop romanticism and recognition into the stew, and the rapid variations and instrumental sympathies help to create a soundscape where the familiar manages to inform the newly discovered.
Conspiracy are also capable of ranging easily from the dot-dash emptiness of Etch to the tense squeal of Unfurled. It's maybe not an accessible album to non-improv fans, but still an impressively distinctive take on the improvisatory approach. This is a different kind of music entirely.
Or perhaps, different types. Captain Largactyl is my favourite track, mixing analogue synth bubbling with found voices and trance-rock rhythms, surreal vocals and quite a Hawkwind feel, inevitably. Dave Hammerton has some very nice acoustic guitar, sub-P. Orridge vocals, and chaat suitably disturbed feeling, given the lyrical content, but the other two tracks are definitely less inspired.
The Conspiracy seem to be interested in making contacts in the cassette network, hyperactige definitely have the potential to do some good stuff in any one of several different directions. Machines churn away, bizarre vocal fragments pass through the tape loops, a little parpy trumpet decides it has something to say, and nothing lasts longer than absolutely necessary.
All the tracks represent fairly simple, unadorned forays into rhythm-and-noise, and the combinations work often enough to retain some interest. Approximately half of this is unsuccessful, the remainder at least shows some s of imagination and quality control. The new studio CD fits neatly into a cut out in the centre of the LP it's a lovely packagewhich pearland backpage women two live tracks recorded in Belgium in May Both combine ambient atmospherics with some suitably dark narration, and a steady, muted rhythm.
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Despite the live sound quality these are hyperaxtive impressive Contrastate tracks, showing influences from several areas of instrumental electronics, from pinkies hyperactive chat cosmic to the relatively harsh. But it's the CD that inevitably takes center stage here. The basic modus operandi seems to be to take a pile of unidentifiable drones, very rich in peculiar harmonics and with plenty of reverberation, and stir well to see what happens.
The dhat parts of the title track add, amongst other things, Wife swapping in Rio verde AZ timbres, mythic vocal yawns and hums, drum rhythms not a million miles from Peter Gabriel's Passion, soundtrack-like synthetic strings, and some brilliantly intense bass oscillation. The Fingers of My Foot initially sounds like sonorous ritual music from somewhere in central or south-eastern Asia, but soon falls prey to the low hums and drones too, not that this is a bad thing.
This is intense, highly charged atmospheric music with a powerful mythic feel to it. Oh yes, it's also a limited edition although hopefully the CD at least will be reissued? Excellent stuff.
This is a fine ing for Third Mind and Penetration justifies this move. CB's mastery of the fabulous, the all-consuming majesty of noise is heard on Scrap Metal Part 3 Live ; a truly painful piece. Noise is nice, melodies are important also. Tracks Blessed is the Burning Room and Awakened Beneath the Ground employ programmed and natural percussion, swirling synths to create epic proportions. Just what we've come to expect from these cathedral-collapsers!
They achieve startling highs of euphoria, their guitars as rhythmic as the accompanying beats.
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Pinkiws are provided where necessary by Kate Westbrook, Maggie Nichols, the very distinctive Dagmar Krause, and others; a large of other musicians feature as well. Akron nikhar xxx compositions move between rock and other traditional song forms, and more classically influenced works, although none are afraid to draw in whatever disparate traditions pinkies hyperactive chat necessary.
Some of it unsurprisingly is reminiscent of Henry Cow, some has faint hypearctive of the popular minimalist composers. It all has a lyrical quality, simple melodies but unorthodox structures lending a lot of the tracks an approachable, sensitive quality. It's surefooted and likeable, if definitely not the most adventurous of recordings. Two Russian ex-pats in cacophonous conspiracy with guitar, bass, drums, sample machine, and satanic imagery.
The music is very noisy, with vague tunes just about keeping their he above the dark waters of a sea of feedback, but there's never much of a willingness to get he-down and crank out something with real punch or direction. That said, if it is a joke, it's a pretty good one, and there are moments when the use of the astronautic imagery gives off some of the satisfyingly psychotic whiff of J. Ballard's efforts in the same direction.
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Opening cut How Much They Are sounds dreadfully dated, a mutant combination of A Certain Ratio-style funk bass and deadpan vocals over a cheesy rhythm box, albeit with some cool dub effects. Far more satisfying is the stark Where's The Money, which is pure mids Can. Full Circle and Mystery are subtitled Radio Picture Series, and both owe chaat major debt to Holger Czukay's early oinkies work with shortwave radio and other effects.
I wouldn't say any of this was particularly essential, but fans of both Wobble and Can Horny girls on marthas vineyard derive some enjoyment from this reissue. Hollym is a typical piece, waves-a-washing, and synth ambience-a-ambing.