Feet Teething

One of the strangest, most wonderful acts oozing out of the cracks of Brisbane is the improvisational trio FEET TEETH, a band that doesn't get anywhere near the recognition they deserve, not even in the avant-garde community. I have been trying to get something out of theirs on the label for a little while now (it will come!), but until we find a will and way, there is Teething, three live recordings the band did that you can get now here. Utilising drums, marimba, trumpet and electronics (including their ever reliable C64 reimaginings), the band tap into a free-jazz purgatory that is often presents a corporeal, cacophonous cocoon to slip inside and melt away in. It isn't restive, narcoleptic music however - there is an errant restlessness to the instrumentation here, even in the spaces between the chaos - but there is a world being created that requires complete immersion, zero outside-world intrusions. Kahl Monticone joins them on the electric guitar on 'twenty seven minutes and twenty seconds' (yes, the three extremely long jams are named after their length, which is perfect really), a natural freeform extension here. This is the kind of stuff that the outlier intelligentsia that populate the feted Cafe Oto here in London would lap up - but it goes almost unnoticed in Brisbane. Don't let this continue - get behind FEET TEETH and acts of its ilk pronto.

FEET TEETH are playing at the Bearded Lady in Brisbane in October as part of a These Guy launch.

Duskdarting

I don't know about you, but my week has been a bit of a stress A-bomb. Cutting down on the beer on the weekend (involuntarily) and the lack of seeing regular live shows (again, out of my control) hasn't helped things. But there has been some shining lights stabbing my mind-s eye from the dark - the arrival of a new bed and finally connecting to the Internet (I know - domasturbation, right?); writing my first piece for The Quietus; starting my first commissioned column (here's hoping this becomes some kind of semi-regular gig); the test pressing for the latest Sonic Masala release (although unlikely to be the next one out of the stable - more on that later); and some news about the next few Sonic Masala releases that are likely to keep me occupied until the New Year. So, most of these things don't bring in money - in fact they added cash to the black void of negative funds that has been my life of recent months - but who gives a shit. I have Duskdarter to console me.

Duskdarter is an eclectic label out of Brisbane that specialises in the more ambient and otherworldly outreaches of sound. Two of their latest releases have occupied my warped, tired brain over the past couple of months, and both include artists who have been involved in Sonic Masala shows over the years. The first release is Monkey-Flower-Shell, a suite of suitably chilled acoustic guitar jams from Kahl Monticone. None of the eleven "songs" breach the two minute mark, a refreshing notion when most instrumental meanderings, well, meander. These songs are soporific moments in a fragmented time - languorous sojourns into a tiki bar of the somnambulist. The electronic aspects that seep into these songs help shift the sands of focus to a degree where it's hard to know whether you are happy, sad, awake or asleep. It's a cryogenic muzak, lulling you through the null-years until it's time to come into a new world. Perfect for the permanent chill.

Then there is the livewire stylings of Adam Cadell and Tony Irving. I saw these two perform one of (if not the very) first shows when they supported Girls Pissing On Girls Pissing November last year, and their loose experimental, experiential jams were raucous yet tempered - and electrifying. Both are incredibly skilled musicians of the highest order, having trained and played with some elite folks. But it's the innate ability to free-form into the darkest recesses of the sonic ether that is truly mesmerising. Some Shards For The Void sounds as rooted in strength in confidence and ability as it sounds insoluble, irascible, anarchic. Cadell's violin takes precedence here, creating a maelstrom of inner-ear turmoil, a skittish membrane one moment, a archaic rusted nail through the brain the next. It's cerebral nightmares and cathartic dreamscapes, with Irving a muttering fulcrum that manages to propel as it anchors.


You can get both in digital form (and Monkey-Flower-Shell in CDr form) here.

Brought Back To Pale Earth

Ben Thompson (of The Rational Academy, currently on indefinite hiatus after the release of their incredible Winter Haunts record earlier this year) has been tinkering in the solo electronica realm for some time now - first as Star Lion, now in his current guise as Pale Earth. It amazes me how far he moves forward with every live performance - despite his affinity with the guitar, Thompson creates amorphous soundscapes here that continue to expand and grow, a sonic universe seemingly without borders.

Pale Earth has been a little quiet of late, and there is good reason for that. Thompson relocated to Emerald after his younger brother Shaun suddenly died due to complications with asthma, and he has been picking up the pieces since. It has been six months in the making, yet Prelude to Dust is what has been borne out of this traumatic, soul-searching experience (it comes as no surprise that the release is dedicated in Shaun's honour). Rather than complete the album he had underway, Thompson cut them up into a collage of sound that somehow embodies the exact emotions he found himself inhabiting - the hope of new life and starting anew, the trauma of sudden separation and irretrievable loss, and the struggle to claw together the strands of strength necessary to carry on. There is almost a nostalgic quality to the two tracks here too, a contemplation of parallel lives that don't quite intersect, but constantly influence. And it is on these two tracks that Pale Earth moves from being a mere experiment in the development of sonorous sonics, to being in control of the creation, defying the initial cut-and-paste montage of Prelude to Dust's genesis. There may be a heavy weight underscoring these tracks, but this is outweighed by the searing hope that emanates from within.

You can (and most definitely should) buy Prelude to Dust here. Pale Earth is playing tonight, supporting seminal Philadelphian psychers Bardo Pond (Dreamtime is also onboard). You can still get tix here or on the door - I strongly recommend it. He is also playing the third instalment of Sonic Masala's Campfire Tales at The End on Thursday September 12 (you heard it here first!) with Kahl Monticone in support.