MU, MU (side A)

The famous member of MU was Jeff Cotton, better known as Antennae Jimmy Semens from the Magic Band. After Trout Mask Replica, he reconnected with old friends/bandmates to form MU. They completed their only album in 1971 with John Golden engineering, and a second album's worth of material was released after their breakup. MU was reissued in 1988, and it's not just interesting as an historical footnote. It has bits of Buddy Holly, Bay Area hippie jams, and Cotton's blues abstractions all melded together. The other guitarist in the group, Merrell Fankhauser, continues to attract a post-hippie audience for the work he creates in Maui (where Cotton also still resides). Golden did a great job engineering, even as he's best known today for his mastering work. The 1988 reissue was an inspired choice and is a better vinyl pressing than was common at that time, but the cover image looks particularly bad.

Chris Knox, Seizure (side A)

Listening to Chris Knox's music is of course a different experience with knowledge of his current health issues. Since he brought so much life to his performances, and to just life in general, his records take on a different light knowing that the energy is no longer available. Fortunately, the records still stand on their own. Seizure is one his early albums, from 1989, and it feels a bit less mature and polished than the ones that followed (despite having been recorded mostly in studios). It features plenty of Chris's magical energy, but the performances aren't quite as controlled, and the storytelling is a bit less focused. A highlight of Seizure, "Not Given Lightly" remains one of Chris's most memorable songs. The songs are constructed mostly from guitars and cheap drum machines, so it's a bit bright, and Chris's voice manages to sound appropriately thin even when recorded by professionals. My copy has the simple yellow/black striped cover.

The Residents, Not Available (side A)

If we believe the Residents' official history, Not Available is one of their earliest recordings, dating from 1974. It was definitely released in 1978, and it's an early example of the group's conceptual works from either year. The story is not easy to follow, but the track structures obviously follow a narrative flow without resembling songs. The instruments blur organic and synthetic, with obvious use of organ sidecar/drum-machines and some sort of cheap string synthesizer. The vocals even sound synthetic, so it can be hard to tell how things were made. The sound is clear enough to convey the group's ideas, but there's little low-end impact. The iconic cover art is primitive but instantly recognizable.

Revolutionary Ensemble, Revolutionary Ensemble (side A)

1977's Revolutionary Ensemble marked the trio's final recordings until their 2004 reunion. It continued to reflect the diversity and distinctiveness of the group's music. While maintaining its distinctive identity, Revolutionary Ensemble seems to have evolved with the avant-jazz community in New York. When they released their ESP debut in 1971, the energy-jazz of the 60s was still a prominent influence, and elements of chaos and abandon crept into their work. By 1977, abstraction and texture seemed more prominent, as illustrated by the Wildflowers compilations from Sam Rivers's loft the previous year. Revolutionary Ensemble's use of texture also reflects Jenkins's background in Chicago's AACM—the flute trio at the beginning is not a far leap from the "little instruments" on Roscoe Mitchell's debut Sound. The recording is quite clear for having captured a live concert, but the low end is a bit weak. It's also definitely the group's worst-looking album.

Sisa, Orgia (CD)

It's hard to know much about Jaume Sisa. He was from the Catalan region of Spain, perhaps Barcelona, and he made two albums in 1971—one with his group Musica Dispersa, and then this solo album Orgia. They've both been reissued on CD, and they're both a bit perplexing. Orgia is vaguely psychedelic and vaguely folk-y. The closest comparisons might be Syd Barrett's solo records or Tyrannosaurus Rex, and it occasionally falls apart even more than those albums tend to. (I've also found blurbs on-line that mention Incredible String Band, which is also a valid reference). There's plenty of tabla, and weird keyboards, and the vocals don't leap out to the front in melody or mix. The CD remaster sounds particularly good, and the reissue is well-packaged with a nice Digipak and booklet with lyrics & pictures.

The Philistines Jr., Analog vs. Digital (CD)

2000's Analog vs. Digital predates Peter Katis's fame as a recording engineer/producer (Interpol, the National), though Interpol's drummer Sam Fogarino does make a brief cameo near the end. Analog vs. Digital is certainly well-recorded, but its idiosyncratic sound doesn't hint at the commercial success that Katis's handiwork would find soon after this album was made. The Philisitines Jr. represent a weird fork that indie-rock chose not to take, with more references to 70s rock and an extroverted personality that was already out of style in 2000 (and is even moreso today). The album alternates catchy and memorable songs with some more extended tracks that evolve more slowly, and there are many strange keyboard and guitar textures strewn throughout. Katis's cover collages are impressive too, though they're a bit hard to see in the context of a simple jewel case CD package.

The Work, Live in Japan (side A)

Tim Hodgkinson's early-80s output feels like the closest the post-Henry Cow crowd got to rock music. The Work is noisier and less melodically accessible than the Momes album, but its aggressive energy places it squarely in the rock camp. Chris Cutler sounds particularly unlike himself, with far more propulsion and less texture than is common in his drumming. The music reminds me a bit of Blurt, in energy, structure, and weird/flat 80s production (and there's even some saxophone). Given that it was originally recorded to cassette (as indicated in more than one place in the liner notes), 1982's Live in Japan sounds surprisingly good, with very present/clear treble and enough bass impact for the kick drum to come through. There's also a nice fold-over cardstock insert.

UT, Griller (side A)

UT's final album, 1989's Griller, is generally considered their weakest, in part because of an added male drummer identified as Charlie, whose steady pulses sometimes diminished the group's eccentricities. Griller nonetheless displays plenty of UT's weirdness, and as one of Steve Albini's early recordings, his focus on capturing the detail in their awkward and inventive guitar parts really shines. Many of Albini's signature tendencies were already manifest—the drums are very prominent and the violin (where Sally Young plays it) is a bit low in the mix. There are moments where UT seem to be trying to achieve a bit more accessibility and losing a bit of their vision, but Griller is still a strange, inventive, and remarkable album.

Ornette Coleman, The Shape of Jazz to Come (side A)

1959's The Shape of Jazz to Come was the first of Ornette's canonical albums, and the first with Haden and Higgins as his rhythm section. Its importance, which has been well-documented, has not diminished in the 50+ years since its release. My biggest note on this listen was the impact of the bass and especially the kick drum. A recent listen on earbuds had me convinced that the album was far too bright, but on proper playback, the bass parts had both clarity and a nice vintage feel, and the bass and kick drum combined nicely to provide low-end energy.

Tom Waits, Small Change (side A)

1976's Small Change has long been acknowledged as the classic of Waits's early work, so it's hard to add too much new about the album. Bones Howe's recording sounds great, particularly on the vocals and bass. Shelley Manne was of course a great drummer, and string arranger Jerry Yester's history has now been well-documented by Richie Unterberger. Small Change deserves its reputation as a classic.

Gary Higgins, Red Hash (CD)

This introverted private-press folk LP from 1973 has a coterie of die-hard fans, who are generally super wise musicians and record collectors. While I like Red Hash and appreciate the 2005 CD reissue, I don't count myself among the die-hard. There are some incredibly beautiful songs here, especially the opener "Thicker than a Smokey" and "I Pick Notes from the Sky", but I find the rest of the album less consistent. The vocals don't sound great on the obviously low-budget recording, and they're buried lower in the mix than I'd like to hear them (Higgins has a cool, distinctive vocal style, but the takes here aren't always special). The remaster doesn't much help the vocals (it does make the guitars sound nice) and the bass frequencies feel uneven here.

Great Lakes, Great Lakes (side A)

I worked with Ben on the latest Great Lakes record (Ways of Escape), so I'm obviously biased here. Great Lakes' self-titled debut, from 2000, dates from the era when they were still based in Athens GA, and it proudly sports a tiny Elephant 6 logo on the back. Great Lakes features a cast of the group's neighbors and peers, and the resulting sound is dense and energetic, with a bit of a carnival-like air. The packaging is similarly vibrant, though I didn't follow the directions to cut up the insert, and the mastering is a bit present and bright.

Sonic Youth, Evol (CD)

While I don't count myself among the legion of die-hard Sonic Youth fans, it's impossible to ignore the group's importance and impact. 1986's Evol defined the future of the group, and I consider it Sonic Youth's definitive statement that they've tried to emulate ever since. It's the first time that melody and concepts of pop music really came to the fore (probably too much so on "Bubblegum"), and, despite its inconsistency, it features some of their best songs. While in the years since, they've moved to a more precious and delicate recording quality, Evol retains more of the primitive punk-like sound of their early years. For me, it's the record that comes the closest to justifying the band's cult-like following.

Mengelberg/Lacy/Lewis/Gorter/Bennink, Change of Season (side A)

Two years after they played Monk and Nichols tunes on Roswell Rudd's Regeneration LP, Mengelberg/Bennink/Lacy teamed up again to make Change of Season—7 Herbie Nichols tunes with Mengelberg as the nominal leader (it probably makes more sense to have a pianist the leader for a Nichols set than a trombonist). Change of Season is mostly a straight reading of the tunes, far closer in style to Regeneration than to 1987's Two Programs, where Mengelberg and Bennink radically rework Monk and Nichols tunes with their ICP Orchestra. The strangest thing for me is the contrast between the modern production style, with the bass and drums prominent, against the faithful performances of 1950s tunes. Hints of 30 years of freedom and evolution turn up, for example in the solos on "Hangover Triangle". The record mostly features great players paying fairly literal tribute to Nichols's work, which, despite its relative accessibility, remains overlooked 25 years after this LP came out. The cover art neither relates to nor flatters the music inside, and Arjen Gorter's first name is misspelled on the front cover.

Sandy Denny, Who Knows Where the Time Goes? (side C)

This crazy 4-LP set from 1985 collects a bit of everything from Sandy Denny. There's no effort for historical or thematic unity—the sequencing seems to move in a more stylized fashion, which emphasizes her beautiful voice as it lives in different contexts. The recordings sound consistently great, whether from John Wood and Jerry Boys or BBC staff engineers (about 1/4 of the set is outtakes and alternate versions), and the mastering job is excellent (though the vinyl itself of my 1991 reissue pressing occasionally seems a bit rougher in quality). The booklet and photos are tastefully assembled with detailed credits and lyrics where they could be published, and they even credit Ed Haber! Who Knows Where the Time Goes does a great job of capturing the beauty of Sandy Denny's recordings and performances.

The Byrds, Mr. Tambourine Man (side A)

The classic albums are always the hardest to write about. 1965's Mr. Tambourine Man is full of memorable hits, including Dylan covers, Gene Clark's unforgettable "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better", and their beautiful version of Pete Seeger's "Bells of Rhymney". The front cover fish-eye photo is striking and memorable, even if the back cover text is dated. Michael Clark was a great drummer, but was mixed too quietly by even the most modest of contemporary standards.

Warn Defever, I Want You to Live 100 Years (CD)

His Name is Alive can be hard to track through Warn's stylistic twists and turns, and 1998's I Want You to Live 100 Years is certainly an odd and surprising curve. Warn sings primitive songs of guitar, piano, and vocals with a vaguely country/old-fashioned blue-collar bent, combined with a bit of his indie-rock personality that comes through. It's mostly very narrowly filtered to sound like a telephone or old wire recorder, but once in awhile some hints of modern fidelity do come through. His vocals sound stylized to a point where his voice is hard to recognize, and there are a couple of (what seem to be) found recordings thrown in. The blurry cover photo reflects the old-fashioned side, while the fonts and design tie more to the indie rock side of the album.

Pretty Things, Parachute (side A)

Rock music changed a lot from 1968 to 1970, and the Pretty Things changed with it. 1968's SF Sorrow is still part of the hippie era, but by 1970, Parachute had moved away. There is less of an emphasis on catchy melodies and more on ensemble interplay. Parachute and Alice Cooper's Easy Action (also from 1970) feel like siblings, with some heavy playing (far beyond that of SF Sorrow) featured among some diverse stylistic leaps. My copy appears to be a vinyl bootleg, but the sound quality is not particularly bad for such an unauthorized pressing—it does preserve the original gatefold packaging.

The Great Lost Brew Wave (CD)

Regional US compilations were a small phenomenon in the late-70s and early-80s—English session keyboardist Morgan-Fisher even parodied them with his Hybrid Kids LP. The classic of the genre, in retrospect, is probably Bloomington, IN's Red Snerts. While The Great Lost Brew Wave is not quite as diverse or remarkable, it might be remembered in a comparable light had it been completed and released 1982, rather than lying dormant until 1997 (with a few bonus tracks added from the original compilation). While the bands on this compilation have generally been forgotten, Milwaukee had developed an impressively fertile music community. Kevn Kinney from the Prosecutors later moved to Athens GA to form Drivin n Cryin, who had a moment of fame from their R.E.M. connection. Plasticland are remembered by psych-revival fans, and the Oil Tasters' material was finally and deservingly reissued by Australia's Lexicon Devil label. Many of the other bands fall into a power-pop or pop-punk genre, yet the compilation manages to maintain diversity, and it's a fun listen.

dirtmusic, dirtmusic (CD)

dirtmusic is a trio of Chris Eckman (Walkabouts), Hugo Race (Bad Seeds), and Chris Brokaw (Come, many other bands). 2007's dirtmusic is their debut CD, and a follow-up came out in 2010. It's a mostly laid-back acoustic album, with minimal percussion and no drums. The songwriting and guitar playing talents of these 3 seasoned veterans easily comes through, and some of the songs are quite engaging. At other times, the arrangements seem a bit awkward, like the then-new group was still learning to collaborate with enough space for everyone's talent and personality to come through. I've been a Walkabouts fan for years and have a bit of a soft spot for Chris Eckman's vocal style. The sound is clean and tasteful, if a bit modern and bright for my taste in folk-y music.

Roxy Music, Stranded (side A)

After Brian Eno's departure, Roxy Music took a distinct turn in a more approachable direction. While there are some really strange parts on Stranded (1973), with very abstract solos in extended instrumental sections, the strong personality that often emerges as a leader is Brian Ferry. His theatric/cabaret influences are far more notable here than on their first two albums. The production also emphasizes the vocals in very clean mixes, and lead instruments are often brought to the front in instrumental sections—it's a leap from the more ensemble-focused sound of the earlier albums. Stranded defies the unfortunate modern convention to front-load albums, with "A Song for Europe" and "Mother of Pearl" near the end.

Rocket from the Tombs, The Day the Earth Met the... (side C)

Rocket from the Tombs have been incredibly well-documented as the band that birthed both Pere Ubu and the Dead Boys. It's really nice, long after the bootleg vinyl went out of print, that this double-LP from 2002 finally collected what little recorded legacy the band had. As a reissue of such an important band, The Day the Earth Met... is a great document, but could be even better. The mastering is a bit overly present (even acknowledging the inadequate source tapes), and the cover design has little relation to the music inside. The music reissued here is, of course, timeless, with formative versions of classics like "Ain't it Fun" and "30 Seconds Over Tokyo" alongside Stooges and Velvets covers, plus a few songs that would otherwise be lost.

The Dream Syndicate, The Day Before Wine and Roses (CD)

Radio gigs are typically primitive recordings—this one is no exception, and it could probably have been mastered better. The Day Before Wine and Roses, recorded in 1982 and released properly in 1995, captures the Dream Syndicate in their peak form (right around the same time that Dennis Duck recorded Look to This with the Doo-Dooettes, strangely enough). There are excellent covers from Dylan, Donovan, and Neil Young, plus high-energy, full-on performances of some of the Dream Syndicate's early classics. Both the classic covers and the originals display the obvious influence of punk/new-wave—the Dream Syndicate merged their influences seamlessly. It's a great reissue, despite the arbitrary image chosen for the cover.

Snakefinger, Greener Postures (side A)

1980's Greener Postures is a bit less overwhelming than Snakefinger's debut Chewing Hides the Sound, but it's still a weird, cool record. His guitar playing continues to cross avant-strangeness with classic rock progressions, and the Residents' backing gives a surprisingly new-wave context to the album. The songwriting is a bit uneven, but the highlights like "The Man in the Dark Sedan" stand out, and other songs like "Jungle Princess" are surprising and cool. These songs also have some overt vocal melodies, and Snakefinger isn't quite a natural lead vocalist when he delivers them. The cover art uses memorable pinks and greens (before it was preppy). The album tries to sound bigger than it achieves, and ends up sounding a bit clumsy and odd (though not bad).

Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, The Funeral Pudding (12" EP)

1994's The Funeral Pudding feels like an in-between EP for the band, but it's really long enough to be a full-length. This EP captures the Thinking Fellers' transition between the full-on splattery mess of Mother of All Saints and the song-heavy Strangers from the Universe. (Admonishing the Bishops, from roughly the same time, includes all songs.) The songs on The Funeral Pudding are a bit more "rock" and less melodic than those on Admonishing the Bishops or Strangers from the Universe, and some of their soundtrack instrumental side comes through too. The splatter is mostly rock-oriented improv, far less diverse and crazy than on Mother of All Saints. The Funeral Pudding ranges from raw to lo-fi in sound quality, and the cover paintings look cool.

David Kilgour, First Steps and False Alarms (side A)

The most primitive of David Kilgour's solo albums is this collection of lo-fi home recordings. Some of these songs ended up on his "proper" early solo albums, while others are only available here as sketches. The sound quality is raw and uneven, some tracks even have audible tape hiss (these sketches predate the prevalence of affordable digital systems). David's singing, guitar playing, and songwriting really come through, even in his sketches, and despite the primitivism, the sounds really flatter the music. The simple black-on-white silkscreen and hand-numbered edition of 1000 (did people really sell that many albums like this in 1995?!) reflect the record's era.

The Soft Boys, A Can of Bees (CD)

My CD of A Can of Bees, a 1990 pressing on Two Crabs, confuses me. A bit of Internet research tells me that there were several different sequences of the album on vinyl. The CD definitely does not resemble the sequence of my vinyl copy (also on Two Crabs, strangely), plus it's not a particularly good sounding master (the treble is really weak). 1979's A Can of Bees is more meandering and less focused than the Soft Boys' canonical Underwater Moonlight, from a year later, and all of the confusion with sequences does not help it achieve focus. With that said, the album contains some great songs, including the classic "Human Music", that display how powerful the band would quickly become. The silly cover art can only be purposeful.

Low, Canada (CD single)

Trust is something of a transitional Low record, with a distinct break in songwriting style but not yet the stylized production of their more recent albums. The "Canada" CD single is even further from the syntactically modern production techniques, as the two non-album tracks are even more organic in their mix style than most of Trust. "Shots & Ladders" is a highlight of Trust, and an easy one to miss as it's buried at the album's end. The sparser and less-produced alternate here is a nice reminder of the song's interesting construction. "Fearless" is of course a Pink Floyd classic, and as it's built around mellow acoustic guitar and vocals, it plays to Low's strengths perfectly as a choice in cover. Tom Herbers's cover photo is nice, and the personal style of the liner notes (printed on the CD) is a nice touch.

Califone, Roomsound (CD)

By 2001, Califone had been stripped down to Ben and Tim as core members, with few hints that the band would grow back again into a stable quartet. The remarkable coherence of Roomsound reflects their tight musical bond from so many years of collaboration. While it has neither the remarkable abstract percussive sections of Quicksand/Cradlesnakes nor the mature songwriting voice of Funeral Singers, Roomsound has a distinctive power and subtle but very memorable melodies. It features the ultra-present sound that has become a distinctive feature of Califone's albums, which has lasted through multiple changes in recording environments, and impressive hand-folded packaging.

David Kilgour, A Feather in the Engine (CD)

David Kilgour's solo albums usually feature a fairly straightforward rock rhythm section. 2001's A Feather in the Engine includes a rhythm section in places, but balances the more rock-oriented songs with some more stripped down arrangements. A few of the tracks are melodic but loose instrumentals, which are closer to the Clean's recent albums than most of David's solo work. "Today is Gonna Be Mine" is the album's highlight, with multiple themes running in an unusual but effective counterpoint. Apart from David's excellent handwriting, the cover design gives little hint of the charms inside.

Sun City Girls, Valentines from Matahari (side A)

On this 1993 LP, Sun City Girls display little of their obsession with the world's indigenous musics and little of their dark sense of humor. Valentines from Matahari includes some of their most aggressive "rock" music, with an almost metal-like volume and energy peeking through at times. The riffs rarely repeat or use any grounding structure—the pieces evolve more organically over time. Perhaps the catchiest moment is in "Way Over the Rainbow", where a bit of the Harold Arlen tune sneaks in and sneaks back out. The austere packaging is instantly recognizable, and the incredibly primitive recording and mastering is equally iconic of this phase of Sun City Girls' oeuvre.

Thuja, Thuja... (side A)

2008's Thuja... starts out sounding a bit like Pelt, with layers of dark, heavy, and generally unamplified drones. It gradually resolves into a more typical Jeweled Antler Collective affair, with the drones gradually evolving into sparser acoustic layering. Seemingly everyone from Jeweled Antler shows up here, along with a few guests: 8 players in all. The recording and mastering are pretty primitive and lo-fi, without some of the exaggerated brightness of other albums from this crew, and the abstract cover painting is appropriate and tasteful.

Image Publique S.A., Paris au Printemps (side A)

The faux-French packaging is silly, but 1980's Paris au Printemps is a fine live Public Image Ltd. album. The sound quality is solid for a live album, though the vocals are a bit loud and the guitar a bit quiet (obviously, the bass sounds inferior to Metal Box, though not bad). The performances are strong, loose, and charismatic, and "Careering" ("Precipitamment") came out particularly great. The applause is barely audible, and the cover painting has little to do with the music inside.

Alice Cooper, Pretties for You (side A)

The sense of humor was already obvious on Alice Cooper's 1969 debut Pretties for You, but the darkness was barely present. The aggressive parts sound more like glam than metal, though neither genre really existed in 1969, and some parts are very psychedelic. Pretties for You is primitive and almost lo-fi, without a hint of the polish that would later appear. The musicianship is consistently great, and "Levity Ball" is now famous for a bass-line that the Flaming Lips borrowed years later. The cover art, with a painting of a woman's exposed panties, is sufficiently distasteful that my copy came with a small sticker covering the panties.

Alastair Galbraith, Mirrorwork (side A)

When I think of Alastair Galbraith's work, I think of the dynamic qualities of Morse, where occasionally his electric guitar playing can hint at heaviness. 1998's Mirrorwork is more consistently delicate, with more focus on acoustic instruments and particularly fragile vocals. Galbraith's cover paintings are as beautiful and introspective as the music, and his primitive recording techniques continue to flatter his songwriting and performances.

brise-glace, when in Vanitas... (side A)

brise-glace was a strange and short-lived combination of personalities in Chicago in 1994, and when in Vanitas... reflects the group's diversity. When Cheer-Accident's Thymme Jones plays his awkward drums, he can certainly be dominant, and some of the overt tape collage is obviously Jim O'Rourke. What's crazy about the album is that the four personalities sort of rotate through the foreground. The results seem like Henry Cow as updated through a more post-punk lens, with the rapid shifts and varied styles. The heavy riffs and drumming certainly would not be at home on Unrest. Steve Albini engineered, and some of his drum mic technique is recognizable. The front cover is even more confusing and impenetrable than the album.

The Shrubs, Full Steam into the Brainstorm (12" EP)

The heavier side of the mid-'80s English underground tended to lean heavily on the Gang of Four and Nightingales as primal influences. The Shrubs were a notable exception to this trend—they borrowed overtly from the Minutemen and the Birthday Party. 1986's Full Steam into the Brainstorm is somewhat more primitive than their later full-length Take Me Aside for a Midnight Harangue, which reminds me a bit of Slovenly. It sounds a bit smaller and thinner, and the experience just feels a bit more chaotic. The splattered blue and black cover is jarring, chaotic, and powerful.

Howard Riley, Synopsis (side A)

Pianist Riley is the least-known part of this trio, that also includes Barry Guy and Tony Oxley. 1973's Synopsis is a strong, if fairly typical, example of early 70s out improvisation from England. Guy and Oxley are credited with bass guitar and amplified percussion in addition to their usual bass and drums, but both of their playing is so abstract and textural that the differences are not jarring or obvious. Synopsis is notable to me for having been recorded by two women when the field was even more of an "old boys' club" than it is today, and it sounds quite good.

Piano Music of Erik Satie, vol. 1 (side A)

On these 1968 recordings, Aldo Ciccolini performs classic late-19th-Century Satie pieces. The "Trois Gnossiennes" and "Trois Gymnopédies" are the most famous pieces on here, and they reflect Satie's propensity for fragile and delicate. They sound modern today and deserve their classic status. Intriguing are some of the more dynamic and louder pieces that don't immediately come to mind when thinking of Satie. The piano playing and recording document the pieces well, but the cover art of Piano Music of Erik Satie, vol. 1 is bland and unmemorable.

The Scissor Girls, We People Space with Phantoms (side A)

While by the time We People Space with Phantoms came out in 1996, Kelly Kuvo was playing guitar, this album was recorded several years earlier and features original guitarist SueAnn Zollinger. As a result, it's resembles straightforward rock music at least a bit more than the Scissor Girls' later work. The album sounds pretty primitive and harsh, even though several professional engineers were involved with its recording. The SG's fragmented blare was already in full-force by this point, if not as reductionist and abstract as on the later singles and STATICLAND EP. The crazy drawings on the cover nicely reflect the chaos inside.

Liars, They were Wrong So We Drowned (side A)

Liars don't hint at where their influences are much at all. Occasionally, they sound a bit like 90s Touch n Go or old Dischord bands, but it's hard to tell if that's intentional, and the results resemble none of this at all. Their fractured, demented 2003 album They Were Wrong So We Drowned is a structural mess with strange percussion loops and lots of primitive sounds. It's a genuinely experimental record that rarely references other experimental records. Sometimes it works, sometimes it seems a bit lost, but it's still hard to believe that this was a commercially viable album at the time. The needlepoint design on the cover is remarkable, and even the 80s hardcore bands that thanked every band they'd ever met didn't put the list on the center sticker of the vinyl (as Liars did here)!

Black Orpheus soundtrack (side A)

The pulsing drums and energy throughout this movie obviously contributes to the beauty and immersiveness of Black Orpheus. Most of the soundtrack leaves this pulsing behind the music, even when tunes by Jobim and Luis Bonfa would also stand independently. The soundtrack includes percussive stretches, some tunes with the chaos surrounding them, and occasionally some stark and pretty songs. The cover art has a beautiful still from the movie, surrounded by a charmingly primitive design with far too many fonts and colors in far too little space. The cover also misspells Jobim's name, unfortunately.

The Velvet Underground, Another View (side A)

The Velvet Underground were obviously one of the most important rock bands of the 60s, so any collection of recordings is worth a listen. Because VU came first and collected the important out-takes, Another View is far less consistent. The inconsistency of material is to be expected, but for such an important reissue, more attention could have been paid to the technical side. Many of the tracks are then-new mixes from the 80s—some are creative, while others are overly slick (notably "We're Gonna Have a Goodtime Together"—did the mix engineer really think this would be a hit?). It's also a problem that the level of the 60s mixes was not brought up in mastering to match the new mixes. Even the packaging makes it obvious that this release was a bit of a low-budget afterthought, unfortunately. The Velvet Underground, even in their leftover out-takes, deserve better.

Roscoe Mitchell and the Sound Ensemble, Snurdy McGurdy and her Dancin' Shoes (side A)

1981's Snurdy McGurdy presents a nice cross-section of Roscoe Mitchell's thinking at the time. There are funky rhythms and sparse compositional sections, full bore blowing and pointillistic textures, often all in the same piece. The hard cuts aren't quite as jarring as became popular in Downtown New York a few years later, but there are definitely sharp turns in some of the pieces. The album exploits the versatility that characterizes the Sound Ensemble. There's a weird claustrophobia in the high-end without a clear cause—there's plenty of treble and presence, and the recording was done at two good studios in Chicago. The cover design is probably my least favorite part of the record—big block letters in an uninteresting font (though I do like the colors) alongside a small picture.

Patti Smith Group, Radio Ethiopia (side A)

The Patti Smith Group is of course remembered as something of a radical innovator in mid-70s New York. In retrospect, 1976's Radio Ethiopia sounds weird and out-of-time/place, but far less radical than it did when it was new. The poetic vocal layering and odd structure of "Poppies", for example, is juxtaposed against a classic-rock foundation that overtly grounds the song. The classic singles like "Pissing in a River" and "Pumping (My Heart)" still sound timeless, but more as rock songs that genre-stretching oddities. Jack Douglas and Jay Messina's production has some overtly 70s elements, like the tight drum sounds and recognizably direct bass, but it somehow sounds quite unlike hit records of its era. The full dynamic range is quite impressive when compared to today's highly-compressed idea of rock music. The front cover photo is particularly beautiful, even if the rest of the layout is a bit primitive (again, this contrast closely matches the music).

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Willy and the Poor Boys (side A)

It's hard to say much new about CCR. 1969's Willy and the Poor Boys includes the obvious hits plus things like Leadbelly's "Cotton Fields" and a strange instrumental called "Poorboy Shuffle". Creedence are rightly remembered an amazing rock and roll band, and Willy and the Poor Boys reflects all of the reasons: great playing, writing, singing, and simple/tasteful production. The album cover is fun and memorable, and the vinyl, apart from being a bit bright, sounds great.

EKG, No sign (CD)

Kyle Bruckmann from EKG has been a friend for years and occasional collaborator along the way. When I think of EKG (his duo with Ernst Karel), I focus on the austerity and tiny palette. These qualities certainly are true of No sign, but subtle characteristics emerge on close listen. Loud or sustained sounds sometimes jump out, and Karel's trumpet is particularly noticeable in places. The breaks from the pure austerity are nice and help to emphasize No sign's character amidst the somewhat cold and sparse palette. The sound is very modern and digital, clean and transformerless, and the stark packaging fits the music perfectly.

The M's, Future Women (CD)

If I didn't know Steve Versaw, I'd probably have missed 2006's Future Women, which would be too bad. Chicago quartet The M's often reminded me of the Move, with loose and organic (but still quite proficient) playing that did not really fit in 2006. The production of Future Women did fit more in 2006, with a vague Pixies influence. The rare times that strings and horns pop up reference the Rolling Stones circa Let it Bleed, which is again not a typical contemporary reference. The cover painting looks cool too.

David Holland & Derek Bailey, Improvisations for Cello and Guitar (side A)

1971's Improvisations for Cello and Guitar was one of Derek Bailey's earliest albums to have proper distribution in the US, and it's a great example of his sparse and pointillistic playing. The strange part about this album is that it comes at the height of David Holland's avant explorations. Holland is known for his playing bass with more straightforward jazz ensembles. He played in Miles Davis's modal quintet, before reaching this level of abstraction, and he's gradually moved back toward the mainstream since. He's a technically great player, of course, and is able to keep up with Bailey's textural freedom here. This live recording is one of the most quietly-mastered LPs I've heard.

Linda Perhacs, Parallellograms (CD)

The original 1998 CD of Parallellograms predates press coverage for the folk-psych movement, and to some extent the whole movement itself. Unfortunately, it also predates Perhacs herself being located, so it's mastered from vinyl and sounds fairly murky. By 1970 the hippie movement was fading, so Perhacs was in some ways a throwback—she has far more to do with it than the rising LA singer-songwriter phenomenon. Parallellograms is a bit inconsistent, but its fascinating and remarkable moments far outweigh the times where it sounds more like an above-average folk album. Jazz drummer Shelley Mann even turns up as a session musician!

Ernst-Ludwig Petrowsky Trio DDR, Selb-Dritt

Petrowsky seems to be largely unknown in the U.S.—for example, he only has a Wikipedia page in German. His brand of avant-improv, at least on this record, owes a huge debt to American jazz. This drummerless trio starts with a fairly faithful reading of "Enfant", from Ornette on Tenor, and then continues to reference Ornette's early work as a launch-point for their playing. Combining this overt influence with the drummerless configuration remains surprising today, but Selb-Dritt feels otherwise fairly safe, with so many years perspective since it's 1981 release. It does feature fine playing and a cover painting that's hard to contextualize.

Fleetwood Mac, Black Magic Woman (side C)

This double-LP collects tracks from their early blues years. The first half is their first LP, 1968's Fleetwood Mac. The second half was originally released as a weird US compilation from 1969 called English Rose, with some singles, tracks from Mr. Wonderful, and a Danny Kirwan tune that was on some pressings of Then Play On. Discography confusion aside (and there was a lot with the early Fleetwood Mac material), Black Magic Woman is inconsistent but often amazing. "Black Magic Woman" and "Albatross" are of course timeless classics. The rest of the album ranges from straightforward blues to some Peter Green character pieces to spotlights on Jeremy Spencer's 50s persona. Some of the recordings have some weird lo-fi vocal sounds, and the reissue mastering definitely is not great. I'm a huge fan of early Fleetwood Mac, so while there's less consistency here than on Then Play On, I still appreciate the great parts and even the weirdness, but not the terrible packaging of the reissue (from 1971).

Tom Waits, Blood Money (side A)

Blood Money came out alongside Alice in 2002. Both albums capture Waits's old theater scores, with some of the same musicians (including members of Splatter Trio) and engineers (including Oz Fritz). The musicianship and recording on both is fantastic, and makes the records special. Where Alice is a bit more understated and sparse, Blood Money features more up-front vocals that tie to earlier Waits records like Bone Machine and The Black Rider. It would be easy to assume that Blood Money is the earlier of the two compositions. The packaging is nice too, with a thick outer cover and printed inner sleeve.

The United States of America, The United States of America (side A)

The United States of America are well-documented at this point—academic type Joseph Byrd started a rock band at the height of the psychedelic/experimental era of rock music, and this 1968 LP documents the results. It's got a bit of everything, from overtly catchy songs to through-composed pieces. Through all of the studio experimentation, the sound of a rock record does come through, thanks in part perhaps to producer David Rubinson, who also worked with Moby Grape. On my 90s vinyl reissue (which could be a bootleg?) the loudest treble notes are overly emphasized, which I'm sure is not what the original LP sounded like.

Asmus Tietchens, Litia (side A)

Asmus Tietchens has made countless fascinating and distinctive records of strange and impenetrable noise palettes. Before these crazy explorations, his early records were far more conventional electronic music. 1984's Litia features a 6 piece group playing drum machines and synthesizers. Patterns repeat, melodies emerge, and for a moment it even sounds a bit like Young Marble Giants. The record sounds great (with a big "DMM" logo right on the cover) and the austere two-color cover is perfect.

Art Ensemble of Chicago with Fontella Bass (side A)

Although the marriage between Lester Bowie and Fontella Bass explains how this collaboration happened, there's still a lot to be confused by here. Fontella Bass is, of course, best known for her Aretha-like vocal performance on the hit "Rescue Me". In 1970, she teamed up with the Art Ensemble of Chicago for this impenetrable album. There aren't really songs, or even neat compositions, so much as long, slowly evolving blurs. Bass vocalizes a narrative similar to those on other Art Ensemble albums, but with far more vocal dexterity. Sounds pass by around her, occasionally in isolation but often in clusters. Some sections use pitched instruments like horns, where others are percussive. My domestic vinyl copy looks better than the CD reissue but not as striking as the French original, and it doesn't sound bad for a repress of a budget recording.

Gene Clark, No Other (side A)

1974's No Other is certainly a confusing and contradictory record. In some ways, it seems like a slick 70s rock record, with famous session musicians (Leland Sklar, Timothy B. Schmidt) and punchy production. In other ways, it's confused and almost aimless. Though he's remembered for writing hits like "Eight Miles High" and "Echoes", Clark did not contribute such recognizable and overt melodies. The songs subtly drift along without the obvious memorable impact of his hits. No Other is fascinating in its juxtapositions, and it's a cool, interesting listen.

Fuhler—Bennink—de Joode, Tinderbox (CD)

This Dutch trio plays a bit of everything on 2002's Tinderbox. It ranges from their idiosyncratic take on piano jazz to some quite abstract workouts with Fuhler on melodica or keyolin. The coupling of Bennink's spirited energy on drums with Fuhler's more chaotic approach to melody is always odd and fascinating. The album is sometimes a bit too diverse to follow, but it's often a fun or distinctive listen, and at its best moments both qualities come through.

American Music Club, Mercury (CD)

Mercury was a strange record for a major label to release in 1993, starting with Tom Recchion's excellent cover art. It's low on flash, glamour, and style—it's even mastered quietly and subtly (by Bob Ludwig). The musicianship is particularly amazing, and it sounds great. Mark Eitzel's songwriting is obviously self-effacing with a hint of melodrama. When it works, the album is remarkably powerful, but it times it falls into a dangerously mopey territory. Mercury is inconsistent with its long running time (49 minutes) but the highlights have aged nicely.

Kyle Bruckmann, Entymology [solo improvisations] (CD)

Disclaimer once again that Kyle is an old friend and occasional collaborator. His first solo album Entymology came out in 2000. It's more diverse than the later Gasps and Fissures, with the intense extended technique double-reed workouts juxtaposed with more conventional playing. I can't always distinguish oboe/English horn/suona, but there's a bit of everything here. The short pieces range from Coltrane-ish sheets of arpeggios (light years removed from any jazz context) to abstract textures to harmonic development. It's a bit primitive and quiet technically, but the music can be beautiful and striking, and the elaborately folded packaging is impressive.

Marsen Jules, Golden (CD)

2007's Golden is Marsen Jules's most acoustic record, and also his busiest. There are pianos and acoustic guitars here playing recognizable patterns, presumably loops. These instruments create a sense of movement where his earlier records sometimes relied on more stasis. Electronics still poke out, sometimes prominently, and the music is hardly driving or propulsive. Golden is a really diverse, interesting album, that retains Marsen Jules's approach (down to the flowers on the cover) while stretching it into surprising territory.

Ab Baars, Verderame (CD)

Dutch reed player Ab Baars gives a cross section of his playing on 1997's Verderame. It's more chromatic than textural or melodic, with less frequent nods to jazz than his work with ICP and less aggression than his collaborations with the Ex. His clarinet work shows a bit more breadth than the sax pieces, but he's an expressive player all around. Dick Lucas's competent engineering captures the subtlety in Baars's playing, while the cover painting is a bit non-descript.

Stuart Dempster, Underground Overlays from the Cistern Chapel (CD)

Stuart Dempster is 1/3 of Deep Listening Band. On 1995's Underground Overlays from the Cistern Chapel, he's playing trombone with many of his students in a cistern. As a whole, it's a big cavernous, reverb-laden drone, which is hardly a surprise. There are brief moments of strangeness and pulsing that provide surprising interruptions to the ongoing wash. The packaging, which funnily superimposes the Sistine Chapel on a photo of graffiti in the cistern, is weakened by the other design elements around the image.

Mass, Labour of Love (side A)

The English band Mass came between Rema-Rema and the Wolfgang Press, and they released their sole album, Labour of Love, in 1981. It's sonically a bit ahead of its time, with airy high-end and lots of fast compression. The vocals have an obviously dark and Goth-y quality, and the heavy use of chorus and analog delay match this quality as well. While the songs aren't particularly melodic or catchy, there's a strange underlying kinship between Labour of Love and bands like the Swell Maps or the Clean. The splattery, textual parts sound particularly reminiscent of the Swell Maps more abstract pieces. The overtly dark packaging (which was not preserved for the CD reissue?!) reflects the Goth side of the album far more than its punk/indie side, and there's no clear recording or mastering credit for the fine sound quality (perhaps producer Ian Little was also an engineer?).

Pink Floyd, Soundtrack from the film More (side A)

While Pink Floyd's records in the early 70s tended to be awkwardly sequenced, none was as diverse and irregular as 1969's soundtrack to More. It contains a bit of everything Pink Floyd could produce at the time, from heavy guitar angst to an organ freakout to a pretty folk song. Each style is performed well, so the album really shows off the group's ability to execute within so many idioms. While the individual tracks sound great, the relative levels are sometimes quite jarring—the mastering engineer could have created a better flow. The blurry cover design (by Hipgnosis) is cool and captures the style of Pink Floyd in that era.

Renaldo & the Loaf, The Elbow is Taboo (side A)

Renaldo & the Loaf were two Englishmen who became associated with the Residents. Their (vaguely) canonical album was 1981's Songs for Swinging Larvae, a primitive, hilarious romp through their odd minds. It didn't leave a clear blueprint for artistic evolution or progress, so the duo took two tries to find its more mature style, finally succeeding with 1987's The Elbow is Taboo. The melodies are a bit clearer, which somehow enhances their faux-ethnic quality. The vocals are a bit clearer as well, but they still sound extreme, blending the group's earlier processed approach with some cleaner (but still somehow absurd) vocal sounds. The punchy low-end on some kick drum-like sounds is a nice touch too. The funny cover photo shows lingeré covering a marble sculpture of elbows.

Laurie Spiegel, Harmonices Mundi (one-sided LP)

Harmonices Mundi is a one-sided LP from New York computer music innovator Laurie Spiegel. It was recorded in 1977 for inclusion on the Voyager spacecraft, but not released in a commercial format until this 2003 LP. The back of the album is covered with a crazy space-themed image, that can be mostly seen backwards through the clear yellow vinyl while the record plays. The music starts as a slowly evolving, largely unfiltered, high-pitched drone, and additional layers of busier drone are very slowly added through the course of the piece.

Lluis Llach, Viatge a Itaca (side A)

Lluis Llach is known, at least in Europe, for having written a timeless political protest song called "L'estaca" in 1968. He made many records through the 70s, combining a Robert Wyatt-like leftist agenda with a more mellifluous folk palette that vaguely resembles Simon and Garfunkel. Many of his albums, including 1975's Viatge a Itaca have a side-long track with complex evolution and structure, and then short pieces on the other side. He often relies on sophisticated arrangements around folk-like harmonic content. Llach's albums can be an acquired taste, especially with the lyrics in Catalan (the translation to French in the liner notes helps me a bit), but I've come to enjoy them. The crazy instrumental sections in the course of "Itaca"'s 15 minute evolution are fascinating, and Llach's vocal delivery is compelling.

Joseph Jarman/Don Moye, Black Paladins (side A)

1979's Black Paladins features nice trio recordings of Jarman, Moye, and Johnny Dyani on bass/piano/vocals. It includes 3 Jarman compositions, and by 1979 he had definitely headed into the mellower approach that he still favors today. The Dyani piece "Mama Marimba" is interesting because it includes obvious use of overdubs—it's also a great document of Dyani's work in this era. They also perform a low-key version of Kalaparusha's "Humility in the Light of the Creator". The cover art is fairly bland, and the recording/mastering is overly bright.

MZUI, Waterloo Gallery (side A)

Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis from Wire worked as the duo Dome in the early-'80s. The MZUI album documents a Waterloo Gallery installation from 1982, and is pretty different from their Dome albums. It's not compositional or particularly electronic, but a recorded document of this installation. It reminds me most of work that Achim Wollscheid did many years later, except it's a series of short sketches, compared to Wollscheid's longer, conceptual pieces. The excellent packaging includes a booklet of photos documenting the installation.

The Dead C, Clyma Est Mort (side A)

Clyma Est Mort contains "live" Dead C recordings from their practice space, in front of a small audience in 1992. The imitation packaging of the Fall's Totale's Turns is humorous, and the sound quality is a bit rough even by the Dead C's lo-fi standards. The New Zealand noise legends are heroes to many, so there's not much to add here.

Ornette Coleman, Who's Crazy? 2 (side A)

This confusing record shows a copyright year of 1979, but it was apparently recorded in 1966. Who's Crazy 2 is a bit more tossed-off than some of Ornette's more overtly compositional work, but still contains some excellent trio playing. The group here is with Moffett and Izenzon, and they're a lot more introspective and cerebral than some of Ornette's other groups. Moffett especially leaves a lot more space than Higgins, Blackwell, or Denardo—he provides a lot of subtle texture on the toms in place of the driving cymbal rhythms often associated with Ornette. The pieces are not neat compositions, but more workouts on concepts. The front cover photo is nice enough, but I'm particularly fond of the parrot image on the center sticker.

Robert A.A. Lowe, Fazo IV (side A)

Fazo IV, Lowe's odd, introspective synth record from 2010, gives little hint of context or reference. It doesn't reveal Rob's background in rock bands, nor even his big city, art-world life. It has little to do with avant-composition or any academic structures, which makes sense since Rob has never worked in that world. Instead, it's a curious collection of pulses and tones that take shape into an evolving concept. It's mastered quietly, and it sounds a bit less murky than comparable 70s or 80s private press synth rumblings. The color insert is particularly nice.

The Shadow Ring, Lindus (side A)

When Lindus came out in 2001, it followed the "classic" era of the Shadow Ring, and it was far less musical or accessible than any of those. I dismissed it quickly as a strange conceptual experiment—in retrospect, I was half-right. 2003's I'm Some Songs really is a strange conceptual experiment that clearly marks the group's end. Lindus, in retrospect, was something of a transitional album. It is at times sparse and impenetrable, but at times the old Shadow Ring sound peaks out in bits and pieces. In retrospect, it's not as mind-blowing as the group's earlier works (and probably would not make sense without having heard them for reference), but it's still a weird and fascinating record that remains somehow worth a listen.

Joseph Jarman, Song for (side A)

Joseph Jarman's 1967 debut predates his time in the Art Ensemble—Song for features AACM notables Fred Anderson, Billy Brimfield, Steve McCall, and Thurman Barker. It's a very diverse record, from the dense, full-bore "Little Fox Run" to the sparse narrative of "Non-Cognitive Aspects of the City". Despite the slightly murky sound in the loudest parts, the dynamic range of the group is well-preserved. The loud parts aren't as dense as the energy jazz in New York at the time—they present a different notion of how to bring density and power to a jazz idiom. The quiet parts are a classic document of unique AACM pointillist minimalism. The retro cover is striking and beautiful—minimal and aggressive at the same time, just like the music.

Charalambides, Market Square (side C)

1995's Market Square doesn't resemble much else. Charalambides' trio line-up with Jason Bill was dark and sometimes dense. The most recognizable quality is the blues element of Tom Carter's overt lead guitar playing. There's some repetitive lines under his freak-outs, and Christina Carter's vocals float somewhere in the mix, often in more than one overdubbed layer. The dark, impenetrable quality sets it off from a folk idea, while it's far too grounded in guitars and blues riffs to fit any electronic/noise concept. Market Square sounds as distinctive in 2010 as it did on its release, when the group's memorable tour with Harry Pussy and the Shadow Ring helped to draw attention to them.

Jesus and Mary Chain, Psychocandy (side A)

Psychocandy has such ardent devotees that sometimes it feels heretical to point out its weaknesses. The bass playing obviously doesn't keep up with the rest of the band, and at least my American pressing is imbalanced without adequate low end. The canonical, amazing part of this record is (of course) the guitar sounds, which resemble nothing else before or after its 1985 release. My stereo speakers literally sound like they're being torn by distortion as the record plays. Somehow the vocals are subtly processed to blend into this wall instead of standing out as detached, and the tambourine almost appears on top of the guitars. It's a strange, remarkable sound that no one has exactly matched since.

Meat Puppets, Meat Puppets (side A)

Even as I remember the diversity and oddity of Meat Puppets' self-titled 1982 debut, it still manages to amaze me. At times, it sounds a bit like hardcore, with its sheer energy and persistence. Other times, the blues and country riffs come to the foreground and the songs slow down a bit. The vocals, though, never quite fit, as any of those genres have vocals more in the foreground—on Meat Puppets, the vocals fit right into the smear and cacophony. Spot's recording, while sounding a bit odd, definitely captures the band's immediacy and energy. The front cover collage is iconic, but the weird line drawing on the back is far more terrifying.

Jack Bruce, Songs for a Tailor (side A)

In 1969, when Songs for a Tailor came out, Jack Bruce had parted ways with Cream, but had not yet joined Tony Williams' Lifetime. Songs for a Tailor reflects the transitional era from which it came. There are obvious jazzy elements here in the complex structures, rhythms, and chord progressions. In other ways, the lyrics, vocal melodies, and instrumentation draw from Cream. While the horn charts are harmonically complex, their use in the songs resembles rock or soul far more than jazz (it's certainly an atypical place to find Harry Beckett's trumpet). Songs for a Tailor is a curious record that sounds both of and out-of-place for its time.

The Blithe Sons, The Great Orthochromatic Wheel (side A)

The Great Orthochromatic Wheel is a 2008 album from this avant-folk duo, part of San Francisco's Jewelled Antler Collective. The tracks are floaty and ethereal with acoustic guitars and a generally folk-y feel. Vocals blend into the compositions and never stand out as songs or melodies. There's not much low-end on the record, except for an occasional tom that juts out rhythmically. The haze of the sound is achieved more through density and a lo-fi feel that lacks transients, rather than a wash of electronic reverb. The blurry cover photo of a field fits the music perfectly. The liner notes claim that one of the tracks borrows from an old Genesis song on Trespass, but I was fooled.

Maarten Altena Octet & Nonet, Quick Step (side A)

Dutch bassist Maarten Altena assembled these groups to play 7 of his chamber jazz compositions. The references to jazz are more in the rhythm and tonality than the use of improvisation—the compositional structures are prominently featured here. Guus Jansen's percussive piano is prominently featured, especially on the tracks without a drummer, and I'm always partial to the use of traditional/ethnic double reed instruments (Maud Sauer plays shehnai here). The strangest thing about the album might be that Altena's bass is barely audible in the very bright mix/master. Quick Step features recordings from 1984-85 and was released in 1986.

The Fall, Domesday Pay-Off (side A)

Domesday Pay-Off is a bit of a confusing Fall release, since it's sort of a butchered American version of an English album (Bend Sinister). It dates from 1987, roughly the beginning of their more commercial new wave phase, and the production has hints of the records that follow it. The music ranges from fairly straightforward garage rock (a cover of "Mr. Pharmacist") to one of their strangest and most abstract tracks ("U.S. 80s-90s"). Domesday Pay-Off is more a weird, transitional Fall album than a classic.

Lycaon Pictus, Lycaon Pictus (side A)

I recorded and mixed this album, and it still feels pretty impossible to judge objectively. We made Lycaon Pictus in 2007 and it came out in 2008. It combines the energy of their live concerts with some of their weird ideas about making an album, and I still feel good about these mixes from when I was far less experienced behind a console. Jen did a great job on the mastering, and the metallic silver looks nice on the packaging.

The Red Crayola with Art & Language, Black Snakes (side A)

By 1983, Jesse Chamberlain had left the Red Crayola, and the sheer insanity that makes Soldier Talk and Kangaroo? legendary had diminished, at least slightly. Black Snakes resembles those records, but is vaguely a more straightforward new wave album. The somewhat surgical production is typical of its era, but with less effects than would be expected for either new wave or the Red Krayola. The weird and interesting songwriting barely draws notice in the band's long history. The playing is great, but the vocal takes are probably not Mayo's best on record. Allen Ravenstine stands out as always, and Black Snakes includes several songs still in the group's live repertoire.

Conrad Bauer Quartet/DDR, 'Round About Mittweida (side A)

'Round About Mittweida is an album of East German quartet improv from 1982. The most distinctive trait is the odd line-up—two guitars and two trombones. They're hard panned, with one of each instrument on each side. Some tracks are quite aggressive, while others leave more space—the trombones' particularly dense timbre shapes the dynamics. It's a pretty standard record of the idiom, with interesting playing. The abstract pink and gray cover painting is quite nice, though the conservative fonts don't really mesh with it. Jost Gebers's recording over-emphasizes presence, with the trombones sounding a bit brassy and the guitars a bit harsh—the fine performances come through nicely nonetheless.

Courtis/Moore, Brokebox Juke (side A)

If I could have expected anything from 2009's Brokebox Juke, it would have been pretty unapproachable noise. Alan Courtis from Reynols is a strong musical personality, and his work is often somewhat abrasive and challenging. Coupled with the difficulties of a long-distance collaboration, I expected this side of the pair's work to come through. Instead, a diverse record emerged from the process. There are repeating phrases, some of them featuring clear melodic content with a vaguely folky tinge—these parts remind me of Aaron Moore's group Volcano the Bear. The results in the end are a series of new experiments stretching both members of the duo—an impressive and diverse result of the collaboration. The grayscale photos on the gatefold cover are quite nice, and the sound quality is fine (for what I'm assuming is a primitive recording) if at times unnecessarily trebly.

Negativland, A Big 10-8 Place (side A)

A Big 10-8 Place marks something of the end of Negativland's early years. It's a messy collage of performances and samples—a crazy, fascinating listen without a particularly lucid focus or message. It doesn't really sound like anything else, and it's far out of it's time for 1983. Negativland quickly made their first three albums, and then took a long break. By 1987, when the follow-up Escape From Noise came out, they were making far more focused and coherent music. The wrap-around packaging is unusual and distinctive, where the later records look far more like commercial releases.

Toshinori Kondo & Paul Lovens, The Last Supper (side A)

The Last Supper documents a 1980 duo concert in Bremen. Paul Lovens's endlessly inventive array of percussion sounds always amazes me—it never gives a remote hint of what he might be striking. It also features drastic, memorable shifts and variations, in both dynamic and texture. Toshinori Kondo definitely plays trumpet like no one else, with crazy blasts of sound that more closely resemble Brötzmann's approach the the saxophone than any of his predecessors. I feel like a minority of one for not being as enthusiastic about Kondo's playing as I am about Lovens's, but their collaboration here is a fine document of early '80s out improvisation. The Radio Bremen staff captured the detail in both musicians' playing, but the recording captured a bit too much of the shrill/harshness of their palette (trumpets can be particularly tricky, especially when played with such abandon).

Dillard & Clark, The Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark (side A)

1968's The Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark is a low-key, understated country-rock record that some folks swear by. Gene Clark's songwriting is quite nice, the playing is great, and Dick Bogert's trebly engineering is tasteful (he worked on a lot of easy-listening records, go figure). It's really short, with side A clocking in around 14 minutes. Dillard and Clark aren't the most charismatic or distinctive vocalists, but they sound good together, and it's a nice listen all around.

Syd Barrett, Barrett (side A)

It's hard to add much about Syd Barrett's second solo album, Barrett, from 1970. It's obviously a bit more lucid than his first, thanks to help from David Gilmour and Richard Wright. Peter Bown's engineering at EMI/Abbey Road probably doesn't get enough notice, and my English pressing sounds particularly great. The textured paper cover is nice too. Apparently drummer Jerry Shirley was in Humble Pie at the time.

Street Music of Central Java (side A)

The liner notes of Street Music of Central Java (1976) do a nice job of explaining the differences between this street music (siteran) and the gamelan music of the courts that is better known to Westerners. Siteran is sparser and more folk-like, with prominent wailing, otherworldly vocals. The structures are looser and and perhaps more song-like. There are definite similarities both rhythmically and in the scales used. Street Music of Central Java nicely captures these performers with primitive but very competent fidelity.

Morton Subotnick, 4 Butterflies (side A)

The most notable thing about 1974's 4 Butterflies is the extreme dynamics, which are preserved impressively on vinyl. Subotnick's synth mayhem is consistent no matter the volume. The quiet parts are constantly evolving and changing, with neither the pulse nor ambience that might be common in such electronic music. The loud parts are equally chaotic but never noisy. 4 Butterflies feels pretty isolated from most obvious trends of electronic music, perhaps because it predates so many of them.

The Tower Recordings, Furniture Music for Evening Shuttles (side A)

When Furniture Music for Evening Shuttles came out in 1998, its strange blend of classic outsider folk with naïve primitivism resembled little else at the time. In the years since, the notion of "freak folk" has become something of a genre, so what stands out about this album has morphed, even as the record itself sounds the same. The primitive construction, from the awkward songs to the recognizable cassette recording medium (and budget mastering job), is all a bit too extreme to fit into today's "freak folk" micro-genre. Furniture Music for Evening Shuttles sounds less daring, but no less distinctive, than it did on its release.

Oliver Lake, NTU: Point from which Creation Begins (side A)

NTU: Point from which Creation Begins seems a bit out of time and place. Its repetitive, groove based tracks sound in some ways like mid-'70s Marion Brown or Archie Shepp, though it was recorded in 1971 in St. Louis (it remained unreleased until 1976, by which point it was less stylistically incongruous). It has elements of early-'70s Miles Davis, especially in the electric guitar playing, and it also reminds me a bit of the Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre records on Delmark (there was a connection between the Black Artists Guild and the AACM, so this similarity makes sense). NTU sounds great too, with neither the murkiness of the '60s nor the polished sheen of the '70s, but the cover art does not look so impressive.

The Eternals, Black Museum (12" EP)

2 years after the Eternals' debut LP emphasized their pop song side, the Black Museum 12" (2002) focused primarily on a series of fractured instrumentals. The one exception is the first track—"Black Museum" is a slow, beautiful song with an aggressive breakdown in the middle. Most of the instrumentals are built around what sound like loops of hand drums, but their origins are unclear. They're less recognizably modern/techo in style than the instrumentals on the early 12"s, and they provide a foundation for a lot of the group's later work. Black Museum sounds clear and modern but never sterile or brittle, and it features the Eternals' usual cut-up imagery on the cover.

Marion Brown, Sweet Earth Flying (side A)

Perhaps the strangest thing about this album is the track list on side A, "Sweet Earth Flying" parts 1, 3, 4, and 5—what happened to part 2?! Marion Brown is at his mellowest on 1974's Sweet Earth Flying—it's still far jazzier, for lack of a better word, than Afternoon of a Georgia Fawn, with lots of organ (sometimes played by both Brown and Paul Bley). It's also surprising that only a year later, Brown leapt to the very high-energy found on Vista. The movements here set up a nice groove and sit in it, and even the poetic section works nicely. The gatefold is nice, and the cover photo is charming, but the mastering is unfortunately a bit murky.

Big Flame, Cubist Pop Manifesto (12" EP)

Cubist Pop Manifesto (1986) is a German 12" collecting tracks from a couple of English Big Flame 7"s. The sound quality is murky for a 45 RPM 12", but the energy of the performance remains contagious and the political lyrics are inspired and funny when they cut through the din. Big Flame came after the Nightingales at a point when it's really too late to think of them as post-punk, but it's probably the most logical genre to force them into. At their best, their unforgettable melodies leap out, but they're always a fun engaging listen. The bright colors on the cover are (tastefully) a bit overwhelming.

Amon Düül II, Dance of the Lemmings (side C)

I always think of Amon Düül II from their more structured and trance-y output from the mid-70s, but Dance of the Lemmings (1971) reminded me that the transition from their hippie years was more gradual. The electric instruments are here and occasionally there are bits of drone, but they're combined with a more meandering and unstructured approach than the early Amon Düül albums. Dance of the Lemmings sounds bizarre and slightly primitive, and it generally resembles little else. It comes in a crazy looking gatefold sleeve, but having sides A/D on one album and B/C on another (from the age of stacking turntables) will never fail to annoy me.

Mr. Partridge, Take Away (side A)

Andy Partridge from XTC does some vaguely dub-inspired processing of old XTC songs, and then he sings over some of them. The results are 1980's Take Away, a diverse and fascinating record. His vocals sound a lot more primitive than on the XTC records where he's more overtly the featured element. The processing is idiosyncratic and personal, with a rich sonic palette. Take Away is far less stylized than its closest peers, New Age Steppers or Basement 5 In Dub—it doesn't sound (or look, for that matter) like much else.

Comsat Angels, Sleep No More (side A)

The first Comsat Angels album was the one that I fell in love with. Sleep No More came only a year later, in 1981. If anything, the palette is a bit more refined, with a lot of lush reverb, although it was released before convenient digital technology made these sounds fashionable. The murky reverb makes the vocals seem buried though they're pretty prominent in the mix. The vocal melodies are slightly less catchy than on Waiting for a Miracle, but the songs are just as well constructed. The very top is largely missing, but it's nonetheless a great-sounding master, with the guitar and bass particularly clear. The cover art is a bit impenetrable, fascinating, and tasteful.

Hevoset (side A)

Yet another strange-sounding Finnish band that I don't know a lot about. Hevoset (2008) throws some trebly feedback sounds into the idiomatically typical mix of acoustic instruments and primitive percussion. There are no vocals here, but the tunes somehow seem to evolve in a more song-like fashion than some similar albums with vocals. The bright feedback sounds lead to a bit less murky feel and give a more open, energetic sense of space. Hevoset strikes me as one of the stronger records of its geographically isolated micro-genre, even if it's hard to articulate why. The weird and vaguely psychedelic cover drawing is interesting and appropriate, too.

The Fall, I am Kurious Oranj (side A)

1988's I am Kurious Oranj is a bit of a surprising Fall album for many reasons. One is the polished, late-80s hit-record production courtesy of Ian Broudie, who went on to have hits as the Lightning Seeds. Even the gimmicky effects that are sometimes used on the vocals blend into an overall cleanliness and efficiency in sound. This professionalism is appropriate for the more conventionally structured songs like "Kurious Oranj" and "New Big Prinz", but it seems weirdly juxtaposed with some of the messier parts of the album. These parts probably reflect the music's use as program music for a ballet, but the sequence and assembly all seem a bit out of place. The cover art with a prominent photograph of Mark E Smith is also incongruous for a Fall album. The end result is, like so many Fall albums, fascinating and perplexing all at once.

Leo Smith, Spirit Catcher (side A)

The late-70s marked a prolific and engaging era for trumpeter Leo Smith. His records at the time were often weird and impenetrable, but they're also beautiful and engaging. Spirit Catcher (1979) is pretty typical of the time. It features some of his usual collaborators from New Dalta Akhri paying his drifting and slowly evolving compositions. There's also a surprising piece with 3 harps. I can't tell if it's Rudy Van Gelder's engineering or the unidentified mastering person, but there's a weird sheen over the record that's very recognizably 70s, and I can't even discern what gear introduced it. The cover design is subdued and unmemorable.

Kuupuu, Unilintu (side A)

It's easy to focus on the more abstract soundscapes on Unilintu, but it actually contains a more diverse cross section of Jonna Karanka's output as Kuupuu. Some tracks are purely washes of sound, but others contain recognizable melodies with guitars and vocals, in a way that almost resembles a damaged folk-song. Acoustic instruments are often buried in the wash of noise, and this wash ovewhelms even in the most song-like sections. Unilintu, from 2007, collects recordings from 2002-2005, and is mastered particularly loudly. The blurry front cover photo perfectly captures the record's haze and mood.

Strapping Fieldhands, Discus (side A)

The Strapping Fieldhands may have had the most overt classic rock influence of any of the '90s nominal "lo-fi" bands. 1994's Discus has some heavy guitar parts that owe an obvious debt to the '60s, and the absurdly melodic and catchy parts are just as overtly retro. All of the lo-fi primitivism is there, but the Strapping Fieldhands definitely follow Chrome or the Tall Dwarfs far less than their nominal peers. The sound quality is charmingly rough, and the mastering is particularly uneven with little concern for EQ imbalance.

Aqsak Maboul, Un Peu de l'Ame des Bandits (side A)

Where Henry Cow used popular rock production of the '70s for their genre-crossing music, Aqsak Maboul rely on popular rock production of the '80s. The overall sound of Un Peu de l'ame des Bandits (1980) could almost be mistaken at times for a new wave record. The arrangements and compositions, though, have little to do with rock or new wave. The orchestration and interplay are derived from a more academic/classical background. If anything, it's more precise and less cacophonous than Henry Cow—in a way, perhaps, this parallels the rigid timings and structures of new wave. The packaging somehow manages to reflect the range of influences inside, too.

Pauline Oliveros, Tara's Room (CD)

Tara's Room is a 2004 CD reissue of a 1987 cassette. It contains two of Pauline's very different pieces, each about a half-hour in length. "The Beauty of Sorrow" is a slowly evolving accordion drone piece with reverb that's typical of her work. "Tara's Room" is less typical—it's a rough-sounding and murky soundscape that reminds me more of Rune Lindblad than Oliveros. Despite the unattractive cover, Tara's Room stands out among the glut of her work.

David Thomas and Two Pale Boys, Erewhon (CD)

I've been a long-time Pere Ubu fan, and I also enjoy many of David Thomas's solo records, especially when they jump farthest from his rock music background. 1996's Erewhon isn't exactly a solo record, as Two Pale Boys remained a functioning group for several albums and tours. It emphasizes Thomas's spoken-word approach, which can get lost on most Pere Ubu songs (at times it resembles "Rhapsody in Pink" from The Art of Walking). The almost-clinical production is far removed from rock music, and well executed by longtime Ubu collaborator Paul Hamann. The other two Pale Boys (I'm familiar with Andy Diagram's work from Dislocation Dance through Spaceheads) add radical textures without diverging from Thomas's references to song structure.

His Name is Alive, Stars on E.S.P. (CD)

Seemingly every His Name is Alive album is a bit impenetrable and hard to describe, and 1996's Stars on E.S.P. is certainly no exception. It contains the same song a few times, a weird Beach Boys homage, and a flagrant Phil Spector girl group lift (Warn does not like being reminded of "Bad Luck Girl"'s debt). Atmospheric textures and radical arrangement shifts rest inside of pop songs that are fairly conventionally structured, with memorable vocal melodies in the foreground. "This World is Not My Home" is one of Warn's strongest songs. The packaging, while typical of Vaughan Oliver's work at the time, looks great and really fits the music, but the mastering job is a bit murky and dated.

UT, Early Live Life (side A)

Early Live Life, from 1987, collects primitive live recordings between 1979 and 1985. While UT's albums featured delicate and abstract moments, the emphasis here is definitely more guttural—whether that's because it's a live recording or because it documents an earlier era is hard to tell in retrospect. The music is consistently intense, fragmented, and defiant—UT already had a voice like few others. While Early Live Life may not be the best introduction to the group, it's an amazing document of their evolution. Their defiance of any neat genre or convention seems to leave them largely (and sadly) overlooked.

Archie Shepp and the Full Moon Ensemble. Live in Antibes vol.2 (side A)

Shepp records from the late-'60s and early-'70s sometimes emphasize ensemble playing over any sense of his leadership. Live in Antibes vol. 2, which was recorded in 1970, is a good example of this trend. The group this time includes 3 Americans and 3 Frenchmen. Shepp's soloing is special and distinctive, and, despite the apparent emphasis on chaos over structure, he's also given a composition credit here. The most obvious voice in the ensemble sections might be the odd guitar playing of Joseph Déjean—past Sharrock he had few obvious contemporaries at the time. It's an obviously low-budget live recording, but the energy of the group manages to come through.

The Ivytree/Chris Smith, Fat Cat split 12" 33/34 (side A)

The Ivytree is the solo work of Glenn Donaldson from the Bay Area avant-folk crew known as Jewelled Antler Collective. This album-side of this 2005 split collects a bit of every style from his repertoire, and they all cross-pollinate. The folk songs emphasize soundscape over melody, with the vocals almost buried inside of the guitar, both sonically and structurally. The more abstract works hint at songs, even as the textured sounds fight with the guitars. The Chris Smith side is a radical departure, with harsh guitar drones reminiscent of Matt Bower or Metal Machine Music. The Ivy Tree side is moderate in volume with lots of treble and dynamics, while Chris Smith is thick and midrange-y. I quite appreciate the consistent packaging of the Fat Cat split 12" series that gives no clue from the cover of what is inside.

Lauhkeat Lampaat, The Most Pollo (side A)

It still seems a bit crazy to me that "Finnish folk" refers to some sort of micro-genre that isn't even really all that folky. Laukheat Lampaat somehow fit into that world, and Lau Nau (who is slightly less obscure) contributes to some of The Most Pollo. The sound sources are mostly acoustic instruments and voices, and there is more looping than heavy processing applied. The Most Pollo (2006) is a floaty, abstract, and slightly dreamy soundscape, with tracks differentiated by changes in instrumentation. It sounds primitive but never harsh, and the blurry cover photos reflect the barely-identifiable music.

Joan of Arc, The Gap (side A)

2000's The Gap is a confusing Joan of Arc record. It marks the end of their constant touring era, by which point the line-up had evolved into a very powerful live band. While all band members do contribute, The Gap gives no hints to the band's live energy and coheison, and instead presents a somewhat sprawling and disparate mess. It's surprising, then, how well it works. The songwriting is strong, and the evolution between the songs and textural pieces is natural and organic. The mastering is both too scooped and too bright, but that's a small complaint, and Paul Koob's cover images of the band as silhouettes cropping an abstract photo are engaging and memorable.

Dudu Pukwana, Diamond Express (side A)

The South African roots in Dudu Pukwana's brand of jazz already have the propulsion of rock music. While I wouldn't have chosen a (then) "modern" fusion-y production to capture his work, it at least makes some rational sense. The Wurlitzer and guitar fit really nicely, and Diamond Express is a genuinely fun listen. While it was released in 1977, Mongezi Feza's amazing presence on trumpet indicates that it must have been recorded before his unfortunate passing in 1975. The drab cover design, unfortunately, gives no hint to the energetic and powerful music inside.

Chad Stuart and Jeremy Clyde, Of Cabbages and Kings (side A)

My first association with Of Cabbages and Kings will always be my laughter when a friend first recommended it to me. It's certainly stood up to repeated listens, so now I just laugh at the dark/funny lyrics. It's not quite a psychedelic record, though the cover obviously signifies its 1968 release date. Gary Usher's production is bright and trebly in a Beatle-y way (not a modern way, thankfully). The songwriting is memorable, the arrangements are odd, and the lyrics are even odder.

Talk Normal, Sugarland (side A)

It's weird to listen to a record by a band that I've known for years and seen countless times. By 2009, Talk Normal's live shows had grown less chaotic and closer to their recordings—in parallel, Sugarland captures more of their live energy and grit than their earlier EPs. It reminds me a bit of Sandra Bell's Dreams of Falling—a reference that I'd never thought of before and a record that's dear to my heart. The simple, primitive cover art suits the music nicely, but I find Ted Jensen's mastering to have a bit too much presence peak.

Robert Forster, Danger in the Past (side A)

1990 marked Robert Forster's first solo album after the Go-Betweens breakup and before their reunion. He teamed up with the Bad Seeds and Victor Van Vugt at Hansa for Danger in the Past, which contains some of his most startling songwriting. Without the alternation Grant McLennan's lighter side, the consistently morose songs become a starkly immersive listen. And, of course, the Bad Seeds' backing contributions are consistently great. I love the piano sound, but am not so fond of the hi-passed snare with its own reverb (apparently the 80s hadn't yet ended in 1990). Forster's wearing a nice jacket on the front cover with a stylish peaked lapel.

The Velvet Underground, Loaded (side A)

It seems fair to assume that everyone has heard Loaded (1970), and is aware that it combines fantastic songwriting with odd production and arrangement decisions, and that the record sequencing is rather unintuitive. I can only add that my early-70s German copy sounds pretty bad, with way too much low-end and a generally flawed frequency balance.

Holger Hiller, Ein Bündel Fäulnis in der Grube (side A)

Electronic music character Holger Hiller's 1984 debut album perplexes me a bit. The only vague comparison is Der Plan, with their combination of Residents-y quirks and Neue Deutsche Welle synth mayhem. Ein Bündel Fäulnis in der Grube is even weirder and harder to grasp than their albums or even Pyrolator's solo work. It's funny, charming, and energetic, but it's not very audience friendly. I like this album more than his still-interesting (and equally confusing) later work when he embraced digital synth sounds and fancier cover images.

African Acoustic vol. 1 (side A)

The liner notes are self-effacing enough to say "the sound quality of some of tracks is no better than adequate." The humility really goes too far—the typical field recording quality is to be expected on such a reissue. The performances are good, and sometimes great. Both the music and the performances of acoustic guitar-based folk songs, sound s like Folkways recordings of American blues as any African record I own. The language is the only obvious clue that the music is from Tanzania, Zambia, and Zaire. It's a nice collection from 1988.

Pram, North Pole Radio Station (side A)

Pram get pretty far from their live sound on 1997's North Pole Radio Station, instead focusing on their gentler, loungier songs, plus a couple of very cool weird instrumentals. It's not at all a drop in quality from other Pram albums, but it's one of the less distinctive.

Poem Rocket, Psychogeography (CD)

The weird trashy sound of 2000's Psychogeography somehow flatters the dark material—it sounds like it could have come out on Homestead in 1987, or maybe even SST? It also manages to capture Poem Rocket at their tightest and most powerful. Some conceptual and acoustic songs bump up against their more typical style of dark, mid-tempo (or occasionally fast) heavy rock. It reminds me of the Gordons, My Dad is Dead, and Mission of Burma, and having listened to it for 10 years, I don't think my friendship with the band is the cause of my continuing fondness for Psychogeography.

Nilsson, The Point (side A)

1971's The Point is obviously a funny and touching children's story with some catchy songs in between the narrative—I think "Me and My Arrow" even ended up in a car commercial? I had forgotten how odd the song "Poli High" is, buried in the middle of side A, and just how amazing the snare drum and vocals sound (which are two keys for a songwriter record). The cartoon insert is pretty crazy too.

Polmo Polpo, Like Hearts Swelling (side A)

I was first drawn to Sandro Perri's work as Polmo Polpo with the early 12"s, which are very simple and reminiscent of Wolfgang Voigt's work as GAS. 2003's Like Hearts Swelling, which followed these 12"s, involves much more complex compositions that slowly evolve and morph. The buried beats are still there, and the abstract slide guitar playing is too. The results, though, are much less immediate and require more investment in following the pieces over time. I'm a fan of the results of both approaches. Like Hearts Swelling sounds weird and primitive but never bad, with a very personal and distinctive lo-fi sound.

Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Strangers from the Universe (side A)

The Thinking Fellers somehow managed to make a more accessible album that still maintained all of their weirdness. 1994's Strangers from the Universe doesn't really sound like an attempted sell-out, though the songs are more consistently catchy and reference pop-music a lot more. There are a few home recorded collage-y pieces, but a lot less than on earlier albums (Mother of All Saints, from only 2 years earlier, was a crazily diverse double-LP). The weirdness of TFUL albums is really memorable, and I'm surprised/impressed by how well the pop songs have aged. Greg Freeman's engineering is slightly primitive but not to the extent of TFUL's nominally lo-fi peers.

The Fugs, The Fugs (side A)

The Fugs' second album marks a huge step up in professionalism from their brutally primitive debut. Of course, 1966's The Fugs is still far from slick. Some competent sidemen add a sense of conventional musicality, but the absurd and jarring lyrics still jump out, and Ed Sanders's vocal style remains very blunt. The songwriting is generally traditional, though the album ends with the long, abstract piece "Virgin Forest". Richard Alderson's engineering does a nice job of capturing the Fugs' primitivism with a tasteful balance of roughness and clarity (long before the expression "lo-fi" signified a fashionable aesthetic statement).

Grifters, The Eureka ep (10" EP)

By 1995, it seems the "lo-fi" trend was dying out (until it reemerged 14 or 15 years later). Eureka dates from the end of an era. It occasionally sounds like it's fighting against a tide (of a dying style), but it generally stands up well. Many of the songs are strong, and the weird harsh Chrome textures that made the Grifters special still peak out. It sounds murky but cool—Doug Easley's mixes both preserve and downplay the primitive cassette 4 track sound. The pictures on the packaging are both unsettling in their content and formally beautiful.

Sam Rivers, Dimensions & Extensions (side A)

Sam Rivers made Dimensions & Extensions in 1967, just before Blue Note decided to abandon its more daring artists. As a result, this distinct ive and powerful record was buried for many years, and the original beautiful Alfred Lion cover art did not see the light of day until this mid-80s pressing. Rivers's work at the time did not really fit into any niche—it's neither straight nor avant. The composition and playing is great, and Steve Ellington's sparse and understated drumming particularly stands out from just about everything else of its era. The compositions are both beautiful and intellectually interesting, the playing all around is strong, and Rudy Van Gelder did his usual good job.

XTC, Drums and Wires (side A)

Drums and Wires, from 1979, contains some great examples of XTC's timeless songwriting, including "Life Begins at the Hop" and "When You're Near Me I Have Difficulty". It also features some dated production moves courtesy of Steve Lilywhite and Hugh Padgham—the bass lacks low-end impact and everything is compressed with fast VCAs that drain a bit of life from the performances. It definitely sounds like it's from 1979! Creative and original uses of the studio poke out to keep the overly-slick mixes interesting, and XTC were clearly at the top of their form as a live band. The iconic cover art is cool, too.

Joan of Arc, Joan of Arc Dick Cheney Mark Twain (side C)

Joan of Arc Dick Cheney Mark Twain, from 2004, ranks among my favorite Joan of Arc albums. A double LP, it contains possibly the most extreme cross-section of their work, from memorably catchy songs like "A Half-Deaf Girl Named Echo" to fully abstract sound collages. Crazy live drumming coexists with crazy drum programming—it's hard to tell sometimes where one starts and the other ends. The recording is NOT lo-fi, but it does sound really weird, and Tim Kinsella's vocals are always thinner and reedier than I'd like to hear them (this album is no exception). Weird front cover, somewhat unattractive back cover, and double colored vinyl complete the package.

Cabaret Voltaire, Red Mecca (side A)

Red Mecca could almost be described as gentle by Cabaret Voltaire's menacing standards. Where only a couple of years earlier it seemed that every sound was harsh and distorted, the palette on 1981's Red Mecca, while still massively destroyed and processed, is a lot more diverse. The processing feels at least vaguely approachable and not constantly demolished to a point of aggression. The compositional structures still find awkward ways to use repetition, and the results are hardly friendly. By relying on a far less distorted palette, it at least reaches a bit less deeply into the darkest parts of the psyche, without giving up the things that make Cabaret Voltaire special.

The Momes, Spiralling (side A)

Tim Hodgkinson's albums after Henry Cow can be a bit hard to keep track of, and Spiralling, from 1989, is probably the most confusing I've heard. It's the only record of his that I can think of with overt vocal melodies and song structures. It reminds of the Red Krayola or The Scene is Now more than anything I'd associate with Hodgkinson—the songs are hardly conventional or straightforward, but they're definitely songs. It was recorded with Charles Bullen from This Heat at Cold Storage, and it has a very strange sound to it that I'd loosely describe as cold. The record looks and sounds like little else I can imagine. It's decidedly well executed and purposeful—it does not feel like an aside or one-off.

Dendoshi 2 (side A)

Dendoshi 2 is confusing in many ways. It seems to be the album title, but there's no overt band name (the performers' initials do appear on the center sticker). The album involves several members of NNCK, and Web sites describe some sort of feud between them and the other band members—while one can guess that this story is true, it's not easy to discern much more. The music itself is structured like that of NNCK, with pieces that seem to drift through space despite the use of repetition. NNCK's classic rock referents are absent here, replaced instead by a strong emphasis on a folk/field recording informed palette. Dendoshi 2, from 2009, is a pretty record, but a somewhat impenetrable one, in the music contained and not just its confusing history.

Guigou Chenevier & Sophie Jausserand, A L'abri des Micro-climats (side A)

I'm a sucker for the new wave era of the European avant-prog/rock-in-opposition crowd. Guigou Chenevier is the "famous" name here, to the extent that Etron Fou can be considered "famous". Combining an electronic and heavily-process palette obviously informed by new wave with a complex compositional style informed by prog rock, A L'abri des Micro-Climats (1984) bears some similarities to the later Etron Fou records. Jausserand's beautiful vocal style, recognizably catchier melodies, and the absence of Etron Fou's aggression all result in a much friendlier result than Les Sillons de la Terre. The monochrome cover image is unrecognizable and fascinating, too.

Music for the Balinese Shadow Play (side A)

Music for the Balinese Shadow Play, while also on Nonesuch Explorer (1970), has a very different feel from David Lewiston's recordings. Where Lewiston seems to focus on more folk-like ensembles, Robert E. Brown has documented a very professional small (chamber-like) group. The playing is very precise, and the compositions are more complex. Even the recording quality is more clear and expensive sounding, unlike Lewiston's recognizable field recording sound.

Moe! Staiano/Moe!kestra!, An Inescapable Siren within Earshot Distance Thereof (CD)

I've played in several Moe!kestra!s, including a Seattle performance of Piece No. 7 (featured here), and Moe! has become a friend along the way. This 2006 CD is not easy for me to discuss objectively! Moe!'s compositions make dramatic use of dynamics and texture, and this recording is so dynamic that I couldn't hear the quiet parts over running water, or the loud parts would have deafened me (and maybe my neighbors). Despite some obvious references to rock music, it's an old-fashioned room recording drawing more from classical recording techniques. Gino Robair seems a bit underutilized on U-bolt on Piece No. 7, and I like hearing Jonathan Segel so far removed from CVB.

Pram, Telemetric Melodies (side A)

1999's Telemetric Melodies collects some singles, unreleased tracks, and unfortunate remixes of "Loose Threads" (from Sargasso Sea). I have a weird soft spot for Pram, and this album is no exception. Some of the rhythmic (dance-y?) elements seem prominent here, on the long instrumental "Space Siren" and even some of the vocal songs. The vinyl is nicely cut, apparently by Mandy Parnell at the Exchange according to the inner groove.