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Ultimate Masters: World Championship Tournament Where other bands need to scream and wrangle with their instruments, this trio simply speak their soliloquies through their hands, whisper their thoughts and still build an oppressive air of ominous music. This is not a band that simply wrote 10 songs and bothered to document them — this album shows the four years that was spent constructing this music and the intricacies of each immersing sound forced to prove itself.
You look at bands like Radiohead who took a decade and many albums to get to the originality of Kid Awhereas Autolux have leapfrogged any aimless searching with an album that is a rich vein of oblique futurist song. Additional smatterings of sounds and electronics are all on-ramps that seep into this cascading stream, which all soon turns into a river surging and submerging you.
Every song is an equal piece of the puzzle, like a circuit board that needs every little bit of solder to give you that warm glow. Songs here follow no established structure of verse or chorus, each piece its own composed slice of chamber music frivolously skirting Album) sombre and the surreal. Vivid with splashes of sound, this is music that beckons you to colour it with your own moods.
The Creatures In The Garden Of Lady Walton is richly beautiful with many hidden musical delights — a lot like its Italian namesake, lovingly tendered and forever blossoming.
Interpol, in the same way, have become an aural extension of their complicated metropolis. Album number four though is different not in sound but in temperament and this one casts many long shadows. Like any good relationship, time creates complexities and the musicianship of drummer Sam Fogarino and guitarist Daniel Kessler are exemplary and allow these pop songs to exist on the bold radio level as well as being filled with subtleties that keep engaging you long after familiarity sets in.
A huge melting pot concoction of Mountain Goats bawdy folk, Wolf Parade indie rock experimentation and skewed Talking Heads colour, Mines is a rocky road that basks in the rewards of your effort.
The first few tracks of this album come and go in a blur of yelped harmonies, scattered guitar and thunderous percussion as you try to make sense of where this trio are placing themselves this time around. Boring is one thing this album is not! Somewhere between the controlled chaos that personified this trio a few years ago and the buzz of bristling hooks that are the heartbeat of the Flying Nun back catalogue is this album.
A gale-force howl of synths forces themselves into the mix of guitars, throbbing bass and skittish drums. Somehow while all this is taking place the echoed harmonies are the light breaking open the skies and letting the groove and the pop inside bask and bathe over everything. Die Die Die have really found something special with these 10 songs. Not since Bailterspace or High Dependency Unit has a New Zealand band created something so captivatingly noisy and so harmoniously energising, challenging your ears and elating your senses.
If you were born 40 years too late and the teen pulp fiction of rebels without a cause feeding quarters into the maltshop jukebox sounds like your scene, then let Jenny and Johnny sweep you up and take you back to a time when music was so much simpler. Here our couple have decided to take their white-picket-fence melodies back to where they belong, to the time of American Bandstand, to sweet bubblegum harmonies and back to when pop had a heart of gold and wide eyes for the world.
Usually it would be a backhanded remark to say that a series of songs work well as background music. These 10 songs sit just off in the distance, acting as guides while your imagination goes off to explore, only really coming back into focus with a calling lyric or melody that signposts the journey like a fork in the road. Clearly requiring a new lease on life, Cave and three of his Bad Seeds felt the need for us to be slapped across the face by the raw audacity of Grinderman.
InGrinderman thankfully sits under no shadows of pretence or reactionary discourse in the way it did the first time. This is a band of four men who have gone back to the tailor and found a better fit of stovepipe blues and are ready to shake the shit out of it…. You have been warned. Worm Tamer Sexiness that delved into the sinister with the sophistication of a Cormack McCarthy novel was promised but never really delivered on the first album.
Obviously not for these fellows. This seven-minute oeuvre is the primary reason anyone calling themselves a Nick Cave or Bad Seeds fan needs to buy this album.
Starting off with an air of sensual misanthropy and alluring violin, Cave still finds new ways to twist the opposite sex into casualties of his impulses and obsessions. This eventually builds, turning the sky black with the soot of soured sentiments, the band heaving the bleakest rock they can muster until nothing but the throbbing carcass of a song remains.
What I Know Thankfully just when a little redemption is desperately required, it comes in the form of this ballad. With the vertigo of the first half of the album behind us and a static crackle Laughing With Minx - Marmoset - Florist Fired (CD filling the periphery, Cave reminds us of the intoxicating demeanour that has always defined the bad seed. Evil Sweet and sobering sensibilities however cannot permanently replace the caterwauling as a cauldron of coal-fired chain-gang vocals crackle to life.
You can see this song bathed in the glow of molten steel, the bass and guitar of Martyn Casey and Cave scraping at your ears as though it was the industrial grind of gears. This song is not filled with an imagined subterranean evil, but the evil that haemorrhages from all too easily consuming passions.
Palaces Of Montezuma It almost seems out of place to have a song this arresting on such a ragged creation. Twisted with sound and bolstered by a redemptive organ, this is the blues with the South sucked out of it and reanimated with a brown-acid psychedelica. Strength In Numbers sounds more scared than assured, more fragile than forlorn and more willing to snap than compromise and keep composure. The heavy mood here is driven by a vast array of guitars that meld together and rise above one another — combinations of almost sitar-sounding guitar, banjo, oud, pedal steel and harpsichord give this album a sound of its own, Album).
Burning Off Impurities conjures up a more apocalyptic Secret Chiefs 3, songs depicting darker days. Forever the masters of cross-pollination and widespread appeal, The Chemical Bothers it would seem have given up trying to keep abreast of dancefloor trends and made a richly colourful album that you should take notice of.
This is no MTV award-winning rave-fest! This is something much more potent and driven. The latest incarnation from camp Simian is 10 dark, gritty tracks of hard electro and minimal house.
There are many layers to swim in here — more than you will hear at first — as electronic ambience melds with Latin percussion, Cuban tres, vibraphone, concertina and much more.
Interpol at first are as indistinguishable as their suits in a crowded Wall St. Give it time and the layers of style and mystery will peel away to give you the most beautiful and yearning rock songs. More than 30 years since sparking the industrial music genre and some 23 years since the group split, a reformation, a smattering of live performances and finally an album have finally brought the four original protagonists back together.
Throbbing Gristle now are the sounds you hear deep off in the night, abstract and eerie, puzzling and foreign, but not to be feared. This Indianapolis trio sound like an overwhelmed theatre troupe in a costume warehouse — each of the 16 tracks on this album has a different aesthetic and sound. There are many more notable off-ramps and on-ramps, the territory they cover seeming the most natural thing possible.
Even an overuse of journalistic superlatives would fall horribly short of an accurate dissection of the nihilistic grindcore that is vomited from these four individuals. This trio have been off wandering their own paths for the past six years, but have finally reconvened to produce an album of incredibly blissful, organic instrumentals.
Fearless in the melding of electronics, instruments and random sounds, it has moods as varied as the four seasons. Know, Earl, Darryl and H. Mark E. Smith is a crazy old koot! The rambling drunk at the end of the bar, shouting something incoherent and shaking his fist at you — Mark E. Smith has turned this behaviour into a fine art in his monolithic band The Fall. Teaming with Andi Toma and Jan St. And you know what? This album works a treat! Everything about it seems wrong, but when set at a cracking volume, everything about these 12 tracks sounds right.
Smith sings, swoons and barks in his magnificently dulcet and cockney tones while behind him Toma and St. Werner stack banks of shapeshifting Rephlex-styled electronica. Why is this a single?
The only logic is that the dancefloor is the decider and this slab of minimal house is ripe for a throwdown. Can someone please stop blowing smoke up the ass of these five kids? Some out-of-touch rich executive decided these teenagers were cool and that there was plenty of profit involved in ramming it down out gullible throats? Snippets of dream sequences mask themselves as segues and songs float in and out of focus.
Yes, you could say that this is a soundtrack to a film never made, but more than that it sounds like a soundtrack at the fork of a road — one real and one wished for. Shut Eye Skye is Thomas Madden, just one fellow and his guitar. Madden was the epicentre of Laughing With Minx - Marmoset - Florist Fired (CD cinematics The Trinkets and while that band has parted to the four corners of the earth, this could be imagined as what was to come from them.
So who is The Tuss? Local musician Lawrence English is a man of many masks and musical outlets, Object being his latest channel for all things electronic and esoteric. As much glitch electronica as free-flowing soundscapes, Asobi is a dense and murky world where tracks pulse and pull on the air around you. These three fellows from downtown NYC have successfully mutated with each of their previous three albums, steadily sinking into a glorious quagmire of beat-filled avant garde bliss.
Long before nerds hid behind laptop screens, there were small clusters of folk in this country trying to take sounds from out of the air and out in the world and cut, play or wrestle them into something no-one had ever heard as recorded music before.
These 14 tracks are an inspiring as well as entertaining education showing that the boundaries modern experimental and rebellious music were trying to smash were never even there to begin with. At The Drive In were on Album) verge of something great when they imploded. Calling is a striking aspect of common marmoset behavior. Vocalization is a very important mode of communication in marmosets because their natural environment often dense vegetation makes visual communication difficult.
Contact call contact calls help marmosets to keep track of where other group members are, keeping the group together in their natural habitat where dense foliage can make seeing each other difficult. When near, or anticipating a favorite food. Territorial call; can also indicate a level of alertness or agitation. Contact call. Body vibrates noticeably while making this call. Aggressive call; often given when eating and approached by another or when chasing.
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