Feeding On Ian's Ritualistic Figbox Feast

I have mentioned the Florida noise collective Figbox in the past (namely Unholy Clone) and am a big fan of Prison Warder. It looks to be a big, busy, noisy year for them, the first taste of which is Feast For The Supreme Ritual, the second EP by drum and bass duo Ian Iachimoe (a bizarre reference to Paul McCartney, and which features Prison Warder's singer). A bristling set of live tracks charting the (un)natural path of gluttony and body horror, Feast... is fitful, brash, as at home nestling under the sweat-stained mask of Lightning Bolt as they are bludgeoning Swans, beckoning the apocalyptic winds of OM and bowing at the altar of Ornette Coleman. Digging this, looking forward to what else comes out of the Figbox.

A Final Rush Of Cheer Before The Year Ends...#2

Another ten releases that I feel I need to pay lip service to before the year is out (sorry for not offering longer reviews...)

Last week I wrote about Carpet Yankers, the new album from Shrapnel AKA Sam Wilkinson. Another of his bands, Mope City, also have a new record out, Petri Dish (out through Tenth Court). This record was nearly Sonic Masala Records' eighth release - instead we released Wilkinson's OTHER band, Day Ravies' Liminal Zones, so swings and roundabouts. I don't know how he does it, but he surrounds himself with incredible, gelling performers, and every band has its own distinct feel. Petri Dish is a strong foray into laconic, slackjawed indie rock, where melody is omnipresent regardless of the scuzz that sneaks up to scuff the pop constructions meticulously built up. Mope City are a band of opposites - kicking out at and embracing apathy, empathy, cheer and chagrin. They aren't bi-polar so much as realistic - the seesaw of life being ridden with credibility, credulity and more than a lashing of cool. A bloody great album, guys.

The "resurrection" of Melbourne's incendiary electric punk pioneers Primitive Calculators has been one of awe and abrasion - their album The World Is Fucked was ahead of its time even as it existed in an Australia/Western world that mirrored the dystopian nihilism the quartet have always foretold would lie on the killing floor since the 70s. And now here is I'm Fucked, another 7" that emulates the anger and aggression that you would expect - disco doom. Give up Sleaford Mods, these cyber soothsayers echo our demise in more relatable fashion - and allow us to dance to our graves.

Christchurch slackers Salad Boys seemingly burst out of nowhere to jag a release through Trouble In Mind Records. The resultant album, Metalmania, is frankly one of the most addictive, hook-filled, fun yet accomplished records I have heard this year - it would have been in my top 20 of the year except I only listened to it for the first time two days ago when handed it for Christmas. They are clearly indebted to The Clean - never a bad thing - but listen to 'No Taste Bomber', 'Dream Date' and 'Hit Her And Run' and you realise that these guys are the real fucking deal.

Oneida need no introduction; the Brooklyn wildmen of unwieldy, experimental rock and insane percussion are legends unto themselves. They have just released Positions, a three-track EP through Rocket Recordings that is both furious and furiously fun (seeing as two-thirds of the EP are renditions of other bands' already fucked-up tracks). Opener, This Heat's 'S.P.Q.R.' references ancient Rome (and is also the title of this year's best history novel, by Mary Beard, check it out if you haven't already) and is brutal, propulsive and implosive; the original 'Under Whose Sword' takes the ominous middle road between dronal exultation and atonal oblivion; and 16 minute 'All Data Lost' stretches the source material (from Chrome) into infinite spaces, a blotted miasma of weirdnik noise before a rhythmic mantra kicks into overdrive. Pure Oneida, then.

Melbourne's Shards are one band very difficult to get a hold of, despite their unheralded self-titled debut being one of the best Australian releases of last year. Again the band have slipped a release in without notice - Best New Reissue. There is a more tempered, bedroom-issue undercurrent to this release - the cover art hints heavily as much - but their imaginative takes on more traditional pop conventions remain front and centre. Favourite tracks - lyrics and sprawled malaise of the title track and the percolating calm of 'Flurnz'.

Norman Westberg is a gargantuan figure in the noise rock scene, being guitarist for flayed beast that is Swans. He is also a apocalyptic soundscapist, and on his Room40 release 13 has three tracks of haunting ambient monochrome noise that stretches sanity to its limits (all done through his guitar, mind you...) 'Oops, Wrong Hat' is the most sonorously relatable here, and the most "fun" - 'Frostbite Falls' and 'Bunny Bill' inexorably pull closer to the abyss. In other words, it's mesmerising.

The Lovely Eggs are a couple outta Lancaster who thrash around a lot, make a lot of scrappy punk noise with pop fizz, and love to get on, get loud, and get off. Their 7" is just that sharp, drunk and hook-laden. There is nothing better to do in Lancashire I hear - and The Lovely Eggs do it best.

Cult Of The Dead Bird is a Brazilian dude taking time out from his band duties to expand the psych sprawl. I like it best when it gets heavy and dark, like on 'Autumn Mantra', but there are so many variants of seasonal haunts on here that every shadowed corner is a delight to explore.

And we can finish off with a more familiar record to some, as Hozac Records re-released New York sleazoids Chrome Cranks' debut LP on its 20th anniversary. I never owned it on the first run around - I barely knew the "real" world twenty years ago - so the dirty bluesy rock and roll squalls that these guys ooze out of their pores suits the year's end pretty well, I reckon.

Blue Trupa's Double Headache

This one blindsided me. I had never heard of Polish band Trupa Trupa before, true; but more for the fact that it came from Blue Tapes, a label that is admittedly eclectic in sonic output but is generally more to the abstract noise/ambient outliers of the musical spectrum (Tashi Dorji, Henry Plotnick, Father Murphy). Headache, Trupa Trupa’s third album, is not like this – more akin to noisy indie rock meltdowns than overtly electronic  or jazz-inflected experimental fare. Their listed reference points include Swans, Sonic Youth and Slint. But then it isn’t as brazenly atonal as you may think based on these signifiers. 

‘Snow’ is a rambling unruly maudlin pop song with blown-out guitars, reminding me of 90s guitar bands like Australia’s Gaslight Radio. ‘The Sky Is Falling’ feels like a later-era Beatles track with a Soundtrack Of Our Lives vintage/homage aftertaste that explodes in the mouth with a cathartic rally of arms. ‘Wasteland’ has a chaotic musical middle third not far removed from the orgiastic, sumptuous noise tapestries that Blonde Redhead have become experts at weaving. In fact, Headache is simply a great record, regardless of the perceived influences – the minimal brooding and hushed vocals of ‘Halleyesonme’, the twisted shuffle leading into an inexorable organ-led miasmic meltdown on ‘Getting Older’; the liberating rise and fall of ‘Rise And Fall’; the motorik tension of the title track. Most of the songs dish out crescendos, but not in the cheap cop-out mould – every build up and release is poles apart, plumbing a different emotional depth and offering a respite, sonic acupuncture. 

By the time we get to the post-punk sworl of closer ‘Picture Yourself’, you will be begging to get to Gdansk and see these guys in person, rope them into being your theme music band, and have them follow you around every day in real time, scoring your failures, triumphs and ennui. Do yourself a favour and pick up a copy of Headache here.

Pagan Spells From Sisilisko

I have no idea how I “discovered” Sweden’s Sisilisko. It’s like one of those creepy short stories or vignettes – you know, how something just appears at the doorstep, or the letterbox, or in this case on the desktop of my laptop. The album Waldeinsamkeit is like a Tom Waits-led spiral into the inexorable mess of folk music buried in the muck and the mire...with Michael Gira as wingman. There is a otherworldly feralness to it all, like the discovery of a pagan ceremony in a frigid forest, a Nordic folkloric narrative that tips into horror. The fact the band come from Sweden may have something to do with such naturalistic, stark and terrifying imagery, but the music itself inhabits a darkly pastoral space that inexorably drags you into a story rife with pregnant shadows, Gothic presentiment and macabre fascination. The fact that the duo (Albin Boman and Peter Engqvist) recorded the album in an industrial district outside of Stockholm somehow heightens this hyperreality – as if by recording it in a manmade district of urban unease, it mirrors the pastoral kismet that lies at the aural core of these songs. Waldeinsamkeit (which approximately means alone in the forest) highlights this paganism in song titles alone – ‘Green Man’ being a gargantuan march into the unknown, with a fairytale existence burning in the shadows; ‘The Mare’ a brooding, fragile meander through the undergrowth of reckless regret; ‘The Woods’ enveloping the foreboding, marked out as a Swans-meets-Shearwater deathmarch with the harbinger of doom spelt out by closer ‘You’ll Soon Be Dead’. In fact, this all reminds me in spirit of the duo’s countryman John Ajvide Lindqvist, the seminal horror writer who has managed to shine a distinctive light on many well-trodden speculative genres. In particular his novel Little Star comes to mind, which focuses on the pitch-perfect yet emotionally void Laila, an ethereal babe abandoned in the woods who rises to become a beguiling “monster”. Combine that character with the characteristics that come with the physicality of Dren, the “created” focus of maligned/misunderstood Vincenzo Natali film Splice, and you have what Waldeinsamkeit does to me in a visceral sense. It’s haunting, haggard, sleek, sinister, and quite brilliant.

Dances In Defekt Dreams Of The Skull

Sweden noise monks The Skull Defekts and their charismatic necromancer leader Daniel Higgs (this is the third record he has now recorded with the band) are back, with typically verbose and cryptic LP Dances in the Dreams of the Known Unknown (out once more on Thrill Jockey). There have been some backhanded compliments thrown this album's way - and after the excellence of last record Peer Amid, such reservations are warranted. The thing is, I am loving the primordial sworl, the primitive space, the way Higgs' vocals seem to be echoing out of an alternate reality, a vast darkness before life began. The album rides on the darkness, the roiling angularity of guitars, yet on 'Awaking Dream' we are taken into the desert and left to travel on our own, Higgs as spiritual guide, totem, and possible Loki. Because there is always a sense of menace that builds underneath the hypnotic pummelling, the cyclical double helix of noise as catharsis, that epiphany and destruction are forever entwined. The drumming in particular forces things forward with tremulous force, a tenebrous monster from the deep, ensuring that each song feels twice as long and arduous as they actually are, the sweat burning icily through your skin, yet the duress is wished for and desired. So whilst Peer Amid may have been the more overtly ambitious (and successful) album, Dances in the Dreams of the Known Unknown is a feverish, tightly coiled cast back into the fires of the Beginning, the End, the Beginning, the End - eternal flames, pleasure as pain, pain as pleasure, the darkness in the light.

Get the record here.

The Skull Defekts - Awaking Dream from Thrill Jockey Records on Vimeo.

Pining For The Harshest Of Blackouts

Remember No Anchor? The brutalist Brisbane trio who reckon they aren't together much anymore? Donnie Miller records music and is in Sonic Masala-affiliated shoegaze band Roku Music; Alex Gillies cuts wood and is in metal throwbacks Greig; and Ian Rogers elocutes about music and plays in Shaking Hell. But Ian isn't done with flaying his vocal chords or our eardrums, as new side project Black Pines (joined by Rational Academy alum and the Pale Earth duke himself, Ben Thompson) attests. In the most obvious move yet from excellent outre outsider label Wood & Wire will take any risk, they have put out Harsh Out, six tracks of psych - but not as you know it. The duo want to scrape the underbelly of the 60s psychedelic dream with rusty knives, before diving straight in and letting the intestinal truth shower down. With comparisons of Bardo Pond, Boris, Swans and Unsane (circa 89-92) bandied about, you know that this is atonal obliteration of the most delicious kind. The red-eyed tint of a man driven insane by demons both without and within; swastikas etched through the skin, through sinew, through bone; nightmares real in Giallo Technicolour, an ecstatic mess, before spiralling into a pastiche of Korine-helmed dirt and Noe-driven madness. All done without preamble, without compromise, without apology. If you thought The Golden Bridge saw an upswing in Ian's temperament, with tongue embedded in cheek, then Black Pines is here to irradiate those memories beyond reproach.

As always, Wood & Wire are offering Harsh Out as a free download here. Let's hope there is some sort of physical release of this soon, yeah?

Lil Daggers Leave Peace For Pizza

Florida surprises many with the type of sordid swamp rats that come out of in utero clutching an instrument and energy to burn, and Lil Daggers continues to make the incisions. One of the first bands that Sonic Masala like to say we "discovered", the band had fallen off the radar release-wise for a while - but have been far from idle, supporting Swans, The Growlers, Merchandise and Royal Baths in recent months. Now they are filled with devilish intent, having cooked up a new EP to force-feed us. No Pizza No Peace (soooooooo true...) is an EP that promises to continue the expansions that Lil Daggers have taken since starting out as scrappy fighters back in the back end of first decade of the 21st century - my, how quick they grow up...*sniff* 'After The Flood' broods, morosely seethes, echoes and languidly flails - a creepy gem.

No Pizza No Peace will be out on Beyond Beyond Is Beyond Records - you can pre-order it here.

Boyd Well

It's sad when something of a gem falls at your feet, only to find out that you cannot bask in its glory. That was me and Nirvana - as a thirteen year old I was a little late to the party when ol Cobain dusted his cranium. And of course that speaks to a lot of past glories - the Beatles, the Kinks, the Who, Fugazi... And I've been lucky enough to see bands re surge to something that has equalled if not eclipsed those younger days of their musical heights (Swans, Dinosaur Jr and Godspeed You! Black Emperor being the latest and most prominent of these acts). 

But it is much more likely that you will blink and miss a local act. In Brisbane and other ephemeral melting pots like it in the world, there are so many side-projects, vanity features and one-offs that it is easy to have something slip through your fingers before you even knew it existed. One such band was almost James X Boyd & the Boydoids. Essentially a solo venture for James Boyd (Velociraptor, Running Gun Sound, The Majors), he has been doing the local circuit in sporadic bits and bursts over the past year, first back by the CEOs and now with the much more excellent Boydoids. And just as he releases his first album, Boyd announces that he is winging his way to Europe, thus the likelihood of catching these tracks on this excellent debut record has gone down to slim to none. Which is a downright shame, because this lil bruiser (put out in cassette form by Long Gone Records, with rumours rumbling a vinyl version is in the near future) is one of the best troubadour-esque albums to come out of Australia in a looooong time. Whilst I'd be wary to put it on the same pedestal as Gareth Liddiard's Strange Tourist or Ben Salter's The Cat, in my opinion James X Boyd & the Boydoids is at least on the same dais, even if it's taking out the bronze. It’s understated, it’s founded in a juxtaposition of posturing and frailty, it’s very funny, and it is incredibly measured, dry, well-rounded pop of the highest esteem.

The music itself is tempered, an engine to drive Boyd further into the spotlight. It comes back to Boyd’s drawled, distinctly Australian vocal delivery, and those laconic lyrics that are as steeped in abject romanticism as they are watching The Simpsons and Sunday morning blues. Ordering takeout “if you want to”, singing songs that you can’t get wrong, ditching jobs and travelling the world with painted shoes, being in the movies with friends and people you love – it’s all highlighted with wryness and effervescence, warmth and a twinkle in the eye. And it is indelibly entrenched in the Sunshine State – Blue Apia’s banana trees proving to be a beautiful sight to see, whilst Brunswick Street Junkies revels in seesawing love and revulsion of the tenacity of a Fortitude Valley addict. Boyd’s skewed lyricism is something to behold, and it deserves to be front and centre amongst the warmly buzzing guitars, the subtle piano, and the languid brushstrokes. 

Check the album out below, and buy it here. He does have one final show next Wednesday night, ANZAC eve, at Alhambra Lounge alongside Velociraptor, The Good Sports and Pool Room. It's the official album launch too - it would be sensible to make your way along, I think, don't you? Grab a ticket here. 

ATP Melbourne 2013 Mixtape

Not much to say really. Im heading off to Melbourne ATP. This is the mixtape that has been floating about the past week – amazing. I don’t want to rub it in, so Ill leave it at this. If you’re at ATP, yell out Sonic Masala and Ill come a-runnin. If not, well, enjoy whatever you’re doing!

Seeing Swans For The First Time

 

New York’s brooding soothsayers of annihilation Swans have gone through a multitude of sonic metamorphoses over the years. Starting out in the 1980s as a viscous, nihilistic counterpoint to everything ever considered ‘rock’, their agonizing brutality and despair gave way to something almost resembling mainstream music, albeit with blunt trauma embedded in frontman Michael Gira’s acrid lyricism. Then Swans dissolved away whilst Gira explored the darker realms of desert Americana with his band Angels of Light. It seemed that Swans had run its course, that there was only so much gnashing of teeth before one needed to claw upwards towards the light.

Then, after fifteen years’ absence, they returned with one of 2010’s greatest records, My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky. Overtly sidestepping the money-grabbing rehashes of reunions all around them, Swans created an album that rivalled the dire brilliance of Children Of God. It seemed that Gira and co. were serious when they said they weren’t here to recreate the past. Yet on latest album The Seer, there are touches of every sordid phase that Gira has ever spat upon. Don’t be deceived however – The Seer isn’t a “Greatest Hits By Proxy” – it’s so, so much more.

Opening with 'Lunacy', it could be expected that things are going to be sedate, at least by Swans standards. A choral chant-like vocal with backing choir has us in an apocryphal daze, an accompanying accordion in the background. But as the chant focuses on the title, things coalesce into a vibrating, cacophonous vacuum, sucking everything into it. The musical palette is vast, incorporating dulcimer, clarinet, violin, various shades of shit-kicking distorted guitar – yet all is focused on torturing the sound, forcing things to combustible realms and beyond. Gira’s metronomic panting alongside a menacing guitar line at the beginning of 'Mother Of The World'; the gravelly march through blasted plains of 'The Seer Returns'; the squalling, screeching dissonance of '93 Ave Blues'; even the rustic opening of 'The Daughter Brings The Water' holds a blackened undercurrent of desolation and despair.

Gira surprisingly states that his quest is to “spread light and joy though the world.” Other than the majesty of Karen-O led 'Song For A Warrior', it’s hard to see on surface level how this could be. Yet scratch around the edges and there are joyous threads throughout – tinkling bells here, angelic choir there. The industrial metal grind of the title track, all thirty-two minutes of it, hints at what he means most of all – often the beauty of something isn’t realised until it’s torn asunder. Brutal, dissonant, apocalyptic – The Seer is easily the best thing Swans have ever done.

 

You can get The Seer through Young God Records right here - you still might be able to pick up a Gira-signed copy if you are quick!

Dreams Like Ferns Decay Into Brutal Nothing

Holy fucking shit.

Fern by Seattle's Dreamdecay is my favourite album right now, and it needs to be yours too. This is one inexorably torturous journey for someone slowly and not very subtly spontaneously combusting - and it is pure joy. This is what the Cenobites mean in Hellraiser, not that fucking box and the barb wire and the flaying of flesh!! Dreamdecay has tapped into that early Swans era that is utterly, unforgivably nihilistic, endeavouring to rend all matter asunder. This kind of brutality is not done often enough. Industrial drone doom Jesuscore? Don't quote me on it - but what with The Men and Pop. 1280 also living amongst us, this could be the Second Coming...

Justin of Dreamdecay wants you to embrace his hell! Grab Fern here.

Dreamdecay - 2

Salo Bring The Discordant Pestilence

Glasgow has never been found wanting when it's come to intricate, loud and weird rock, and so it remains with the introduction to the debut self-titled EP by Salò. Its incredibly discordant, somewhat similar in tonality and darkness to Manchester's Kong (although not as good in my opinion). On Overlook Records, Salò’s sound stems from a shared love of the discordant end of 80s and 90s post-hardcore, such as Fugazi, Shudder To Think, The Jesus Lizard and Polvo, while also bringing in a range of more left field influences, from Swans to Beefheart. It shows.

In the immediate future, Salò will be playing as many shows as possible in support of the EP, and will be releasing a limited edition 7″ with Struggletown Records before starting work on new material. Looking forward to it, boys. Check out their song 'Valis' amongst this Overlook Records compilation, which isn't bad in itself.

Lizards And Jesus Swan On The Live Front

The Swans reunion was one of the greatest things to happen amidst teh shithouse reformation surge of the past few years, especially as Michael Gira and crew went out and made an album of original material that was just as important and defiant as their back catalogue. Now it's time to hear how it all sounds live (although many of you have had the chance to have that experience already) in the form of a double CD Limited Edition with special handmade packaging. It is called We Rose From Your Bed With The Sun In Our Head and has been culled from the best recordings and performances of the recent Swans tour(s) of 2010/2011. That special packaging is a handmade woodblock print of a drawing Gira did for the occasion. With hand coloring and detailing by the man himself, it is 4 colors, in all with each one is signed and numbered. What's more, this special package also contains solo recordings Gira made at home of some of the songs that will appear on the upcoming Swans studio album, The Seer. In fact, purchasing this live album helps to fund the new album, so it's definitely win win! The Seer, by the way, is set to be a triple vinyl/2XCD/Digital release. Crazy good! Grab We Rose From Your Bed With The Sun In Our Head at Gira's Young God Records.

Swans - Intro/No Thoughts No Words (live) (note - this is a massive 24 minute track, so it will be a big download...but it is fucking incredible!)


Then of course you cannot beat Club, one of the best live albums I've heard in forever. David Yow is in fine rampant redneck form, a vitriolic arsehole that is impossible to love or hate, and the rest of his Jesus Lizards are in incredibly fine form. Club comes from a gig at the Exit/In club at Nashville back in 2009. It is exceptional. Ive actually had this for some time, but seeing as Swans' live album is deserved of an airing, I thought this would be the perfect complement. Too much of a good thing is never enough - especially when its as deliciously depraved as this... (NB - you can still buy the DVD, but Im pretty sure this LP is no longer available. Keep on searchin though...)

Jesus Lizard - Mouthbreather (live)
Jesus Lizard - Monkey Trick (live)

Shell Shocked On Battle Ave

I mentioned on the weekend that a few albums had slipped through the cracks as far as me covering them - the first two I wanted to bring to the attention being from Mittenfields and Avalanche Ammo (check em both out here). Now I'd say Ive been even more slack when its come to New York band Battle Avenue - I think they sent me their debut full length War Paint some three months ago, with change. Its a great album too, put together by Kevin McMahon (who has also worked with Titus Andronicus, The Walkmen, Swans, and Frightened Rabbit) There is a heady sense of deja vu here - like putting elements from The Hold Steady, Modest Mouse and Titus Andronicus into a decrepit crucible - the result of which sees molecules from each mutating and conjoining into a dirty, dishevelled whole. The vocals are stripped bare, as if stripped from vocalist Jesse Alexander forcibly, and its this honest delivery that underpins the band's sound. Its all quite verbose and grandiose (and a whole lot of other -oses Im sure), therefore McMahon's involvement at Ground Zero of War Paint makes perfect sense.

War Paint is currently available as a free download here - indulge in a great little indie release that will hopefully boost these guys into the stratosphere.

Battle Avenue - " "
Battle Avenue - Oh Other, You Brother

Ignorance Is Liturgical A(n)esthesia

I know that Im opening myself up to some ear bashing here Im sure, especially from fans of Liturgy, the Brooklyn based self described transcendental black metal band who've just released their 2nd album Aesthethica on Thrill Jockey. I kinda get the black metal thing - but I really like them, and I on a whole despise black metal. So what Im saying is, this isnt black metal. Sure, their highly technical musicianship and blindingly high intensity level, combined with the bloodlettingly searing guttural screams, push this into that realm. But there are more influences at play here, and always have been, that invoke something else entirely. Their music is as steeped in hardcore, post-rock/post-metal and experimentation for them to fit comfortably into that rather constrictive categorisation. And on Aesthethica, Liturgy prove it, whether they want to or not. Joe Hemmerling over at Tiny Mix Tapes put it beautifully: "Liturgy is an ideal illustration of the paradox he describes: a band steeped in the trappings of black metal, but incorporating the vernaculars of no wave and minimalism, a sound both punishing and expansive that threatens to rip down the heavens, even as it throws its arms wide to embrace them."

Fittingly my entry into this epic album was 'Generation', a cyclical tour de force of an instrumental that for its seven minute running time had me in ecstatic throes. Then the other major instrumental, 'Veins Of God', offered up more monstrous riffs, and amazing drumming, a Swans' like dirge brutality. Opener 'High Gold' is closer to the thrust of black metal, but mainly due to vocalist Hunter Hunt-Hendrix swirling, nihilistic wails. In fact, its the vocals that insist on this pigeonholing - certainly not the instrumentation. Greg Fox's drumming is fucking sublime, and not in a double kick drum beat as fast as you can kind of way. The beats, fills and runs this guy gets off in most of these tracks are jaw-dropping, yet inform and drive the songs rather than create excessive whimsy. Indeed, there is enough technical acumen here to please a million metallers - and a track like 'True Will' seems especially catered to them - but any semblance of staid musicianship (at least in this genre - all metalheads are in some way virtuosos on how they manhandle their instruments) is shied away from. Shit, the guitar interplay in 'Sun Of Light' even bears resemblances to Battles! There's a two and a half minute electronic instrumental in 'Helix Skull'! 'Glory Bronze''s intro sounds ripped straight out of an early Mono album! Penultimate track 'Glass Earth' could be Animal Collective! Which leads into closer 'Harmonia' which ends on a surprisingly stereotypical, yet in this context epiphanous, metal outro!

You see, this is what we are dealing with here. But in the end, looking who is putting out their albums - Thrill Jockey, the premiere label for artists that experiment and transcend their genres.

As for the religious slant - other than the fact its labelled black metal, Hunt-Hendrix screams a lot and there's skewed iconography on their album sleeve, I dont know. I cant understand a word the guy yells. Just immerse yourself in this beautifully bludgeoning sound...



Liturgy - Generation
Liturgy - Red Crown

Lake Of Myriad Canuck Colourings

(photo by Chris Gergley)

Fourth consecutive gig of the week at The Zoo - those guys must be loving the stench of the Masala right about now! - and we have Canadians The Besnard Lakes gracing the stage, supported by Mosman Alder and brilliant local lads Nova Scotia, whose name inadvertantly ties in with the night. This is going to be a lightning show of dense layered textures that provides a near perfect darkness. A darker Arcade Fire with a predilection for dirge, if you will. And trust me - I will...

The Besnard Lakes - ...And This Is What We Call Progress
Nova Scotia - The World Is Not Enough

Bow Down At The Cult Of Youth

Sacred Bones put out the eponymous LP from Brooklynites Cult Of Youth a couple weeks ago - and it completely blew me away. First of all, its not indicative of the common Brooklyn sound, or even attitude - this is inebriated sea shanty neo folk, very Shane McGowan in its rambunctious charisma and swaying emotion, albeit more clean cut. There is a certain darkness that infuses these songs, thanks in no small part to Swans producer Kevin McMahon behind the mixing desk (especially in tracks like 'Weary'), yet the pure effort put into these songs is mind-meltingly good. Punk-infused punk played in a faux-Irish bar, occasionally imparting archaic knowledge as fair maidens dance around the Maypole, occasionally standing affectedly whilst simultaneously going out of control, occasionally smashing pint glasses into the bored sailors in town for Fleet Week - its one of those albums that seems so out of place that you cant even imagine NOT loving it.
Cult Of Youth is out now. The band are playing SXSW in March, preceding that with a brace of Stateside shows with Pop. 1280 (that would be fucking unbelievable, please get to those shows!), then finish out April with a few US/Canadian shows following in Zola Jesus' wake. The Cult Of Youth is here.

Cult Of Youth - New West
Cult Of Youth - Casting Thorns

Sonic Masala's Top Ten LPs of 2010

So this is what it all comes down to, the most important list of them all, Sonic Masala's Top Ten LPs of 2010. So in reverse order...

10. Oneohtrix Point Never - Returnal

This album took time to grow on me, in fact I think Brooklyn based Daniel Lopatin's beautiful drone masterpiece is still growing on Brendan, but in time I'm sure he'll be won over. From the chaotic noise opening of Nil Admirari to the dense shimmer of Describing Bodies and even its blissed out drone wanderings of Stress Waves - this is a sublimely gorgeous abstract work.

Oneohtrix Point Never - Stress Waves

9. The Young - Voyagers of Legend

Out on Mexican Summer, this Austin rock four-piece seems to have been overlooked by many this year - but not Sonic Masala. The most considered raucous pop-punk album of 2010, jagged and rough but touched with a solemn emotive mood, this is like fighting with tears in your eyes.

The Young - Bird In The Bush

8. Emeralds - Does It Look Like I'm Here?

Simply this years most beautiful album. The Cleveland trio really have captured something timeless in Does It Look Like I'm Here? With its delicate variations of mood and intensity each track seems to build its own momentum. Something I'm sure this album's reputation will do also, building momentum to be regarded as a modern classic.

Emeralds - Double Helix

7. Drum Eyes - Gira Gira

If there is one album this year that relentlessly pushes the totally insane card, then Drum Eyes' Gira Gira has to be it. Brooding, maximalist sonic expressions of the most warped minds. One minute sci-fi futurisms, the next driving trash insanity. A scarily fun riot of epic soundscapes.

Drum Eyes - 13 Magician

6. My Disco - Little Joy

My Disco is yet another band from Australia I wouldn't have found without Brendan's guidance. Criminally overlooked this year, Little Joy is the Melbourne trio's third LP. Pounding but calm, it is a work of rhythmic subtlety and relentless drive.

My Disco - Sunray

5. Swans - My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky

Right from the start Brendan has been telling me that My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky is one of the albums of the year, and just like the 13 year long road its taken Swans to reach this point, it took me a little while to see the true genius of this album. More approachable than the Swans' earlier brutal work but no less uncompromising. Swans with humanity and beauty? Maybe. Epic? Yes.

Swans - You Fucking People Make Me Sick

4. Liars - Sisterworld

Even with its early release Sisterworld was always going to be up there for Sonic Masala. The fifth Liars album is relentlessly tense, full of surreal imagery and anxiety. Strangely it didn't make the impact on the year we thought it would, but for us its the Liars at their most contagious.

Liars - Scissor

3. Zach Hill - Face Tat

Zach Hill is a sticksmith genius, that can't be denied. But Face Tat, his second full solo LP, underlines his credentials as a truly innovative musician. Astrological Straits was truly a bizarre and mesmerizing album, but Face Tat really takes Zach's solo work to a new level with the ferocious style with which he assaults his drums underpinning it all. Intense, deceptive, challenging, Face Tat sounds disorienting and alien at first, thanks partly to Hill's bizarre sound sources - but the more you delve into this 40 minute frenzy the more you are rewarded.

Zach Hill - Memo to the Man

2. Rangda - False Flag

Super groups are a strange thing. Whilst the depth of talent that makes up the Rangda trio is eye wateringly impressive - guitarists Sir Richard Bishop (Sun City Girls) and Ben Chasny (Six Organs of Admittance) and drummer Chris Corsano - it can be hard for the end result to be greater than the sum of the parts. However, Rangda's False Flag so is. An uncompromising beast of a record, it is simultaneously brutal and dynamic, subtle and beautiful. Rangda landed and took our breath away.

Rangda - Serrated Edges

1. Women - Public Strain

So here it is, the Sonic Masala best LP of 2010. Surprised? Maybe, but its not a compromise. In fact we really didn't want our end of year first to be just what we agreed upon, this choice has got conviction behind it. Some may have dismissed this album at first listen. In fact I almost did, such was my love of Woman's self titled debut. But give Public Strain repeated listens and its infectious off key claws and howls work their way into your soul. We're not calling Public Strain a grower - oh no, it much more deadly than that.

At first Public Strain's sunny rhythms might come to the fore, but as the drone driven aesthetics build from behind the scenes it becomes a different beast, sweet but sour, bleak but beautiful, crisp but soaked in reverb. Those chirpy tempos hiding its dark noise underbelly waiting to leak into your consciousness. With Women's first outing pop sweetness was kept separate from dark drone noise, but here Women have spawned something of frightening beauty. Public Strain is Sonic Masala's record of the year and its been quality gaining ground since August - now we can't let it go.

Woman - Drag Open

So there you have it, we left the list late so we knew we had everything. There's nothing more annoying than an end of list that drops in early November, we're the polar opposite. So what do you think? Have we missed anything? Is there a gem you'd push to the top? Let us know.

...And The Earth Swarmed With Long Titles...

One month after receiving this email from Hawk Moon Records (home to the likes of SM postees Good Weather For An Airstrike), I have finally gotten around to listening to Ted Parsons' (Jesu/Godflesh/ex-Swans) new project, ...And The Earth Swarmed With Them. The EP, titled - wait for it - The Fading Voice Of The Old Era Speaks To Us, But Where Are The Ears Left To Hear It? (deep breath after reading that one...), has been a year in the making after they did a split demo with Sleepless Dreams, and the pedigree on display here (Parsons is joining original members Mitchell Johns and Kat Stanbridge, with Mr Jesu/Godflesh/Napalm Death himself Justin K Broadrick twiddling the knobs in the studio) ensures that it is a quality effort. This is post rock that swings like a metronome from joyous celebration to the gnashing of anguished teeth and back again, the emotive rollercoaster painted in stark sonic colours a la the pastel cover art. Its an accomplished piece, and is well worth checking out. No word on future releases or tours for the minute, but in the meantime, the EP is another freebie that you can get from Hawk Moon Record's Bandcamp.

...And The Earth Swarmed With Them - The Slow Decay Has Already Begun

Friday Cover Up - Europop and Dirge Put Through The Supersonic Wringer

What a week, eh? And now its time for the weekend. I have nothing planned other than to chill out and spend the time at home, maybe get my hair cut, watch movies, and mentally prepare for the musical onslaught of another week, with Nisennenmondai, Screaming Females and Pontiak all doing shows this week. Plus, for those of you fortunate enough to be heading to Birmingham this weekend, Supersonic is going to wreak all kinds of awesomeness, with the likes of Swans, Hallogallo 2010, Godflesh, Napalm Death and many many more gracing the various stages.

So, in tribute to Supersonic, AND to a little post I did earlier in the week about, erm...a-ha, I have chosen a couple of covers that highlight them both. Drone merchants Nadja put out an amazing record early this year with Pyramids, called, funnily enough, Pyramids With Nadja. But before this they put out an amazing dronecore album made up of covers called When I See The Sun Always Shines On TV. The covers, ranging from Slayer and My Bloody Valentine to Elliott Smith and Codeine, are drone metal crossover gems, every one. SO today, I have chosen Nadja's reworked version of a-ha's 'The Sun Always Shines On TV', plus their toned down into the ground version of Swans' 'No Cure For The Lonely'. Have a great weekend!

Nadja - The Sun Always Shines On TV (a-ha cover)

Nadja - No Cure For The Lonely (Swans cover)