Zomes, Zomes (CD)

I've been a big Lungfish fan since I first saw them, which I think was 1994. Zomes is Lungfish guitarist Asa Osborne, playing keyboards/synthesizers/drum machines, and he made this album in 2008. It's repetitive like Lungfish, but without the "rock" qualities. The sound is pretty lo-fi, but some of the low-end still manages to be modern and punchy. Keyboard parts occasionally remind me of Young Marble Giants too. I like the glossy black CD tray—a nice touch.

Sparks, No. 1 in Heaven (side A)

No. 1 in Heaven is Sparks' collaboration with legendary disco producer Giorgio Moroder, and the record is as much about the production as the band. Moroder really downplays Russell Mael's remarkable vocal talents, with a pretty lo-fi recording of the vocals that does not flatter them. Even the Mael brothers' songwriting talents are rarely brought to the fore. The focus here is really Moroder's production, and the crazy palette of sound processing that he brings to the table (often at the expense of really being able to even hear performances through it all). There are, of course, beats that sound something like disco, but they're pretty wimpy by today's standards, especially in the lack of low-end punch. No. 1 in Heaven is a decidedly strange record that has some of Sparks' unique character and a lot of Moroder's crazy ideas.

Brian Crook, Bathysphere (CD)

I'm a fan of Brian Crook's work, especially the 2 Terminals records that he's on and the Renderers' A Dream of the Sea. He made his first solo album Bathysphere in 1999, around the same time as all of those albums. It's a bit of a cross-section of his ideas, where ambient instrumentals poke up against melodic songs, and his excellent guitar playing is a consistent feature throughout. It lacks both the Terminals' intensity and Maryrose Crook's vocals that are such a beautiful focus of the Renderers' work, but it's a nice laid-back listening experience that he obviously enjoyed making.

EKG, Object 2 (CD)

Dating back to 2003, EKG have maintained their singular focus on tiny, pointillistic sounds. While their palette has subtly evolved in the years since Object 2, their tightly focused approach has not. It's hard to distinguish here between the electronics and acoustic instruments (English horn, suona, and trumpet)—the group's palette leaves little room for either to grow too recognizable. And, as I mentioned when discussing Lozenge's Doozy, I sometimes play music with Kyle so my feelings remain biased here.

Andrew Hill, Black Fire (side A)

First off, it's amazing that Andrew Hill released 5 albums for Blue Note over 1964 and 1965, with impressively consistent quality. Black Fire, from 1964, was the first of the 5—Point of Departure, which is the canonical "classic" was the fourth (recorded less than 18 months later). While Black Fire is a bit more primitive step in Hill's evolution, I find the sparser and simpler arrangements flattering to his compositional style. Joe Henderson, Richard Davis, and Roy Haynes do a great job reading Hill's pieces—recognizing their idiosyncrasies and never pulling them too far "in". The liner notes have a funny misspelling of Von Freeman's name (as "Vaughn"). My 70s pressing is mastered with a bit of unneeded high-end emphasis, but still generally sounds good.

Tristan Honsinger & Günter Christmann, Earmeals (side A)

I remember an ICP Orchestra concert at Tonic, a few years back, where a friend pointed to Honsinger and reminded me that he'd played cello on "We are All Prostitutes" by the Pop Group. While only two years earlier than this legendary single, 1978's Earmeals could not be further removed from the Pop Group's jarring avant-punk. It's a pretty standard improv record from the era. It seems typical of 1978 that any jazz referent had gone away but the minimal/pointillistic aesthetic had not yet begun to emerge. The result is a lot of crazy playing, with some call-and-response interaction displaying a careful chemistry between the players. Christmann's large beard on the record cover would be the height of fashion in 2010, but his sunglasses not so much.

Etron Fou Leloublan, Batelages (side A)

It's easy to think of the incredible musicianship and compositional dexterity of Etron Fou, and to forget their primitive roots. Their debut LP Batelages proudly proclaims on the back that it was recorded on a 4-track TEAC, I'm assuming a 3340. It sounds quite lo-fi, and even has some shouty bits that vaguely resemble punk rock, all in 1976, before lo-fi or even punk rock became recognizable ideas! Parts are a really fun listen, while other parts can be a bit impenetrable. Batelages definitely resembles very little else, and dates from a time when such underground music sometimes never made it to vinyl. The picture on the back of Ferdinand Richard with his beret and vest is hilariously French.

Minutemen, The Punch Line (12" EP)

The silent/runout grooves at the center of this record continue into the stickers, so that my stylus is playing the sticker. In addition to sounding bad, I have to imagine that this is bad for the stylus. It's hard to say much about a record this canonical, except perhaps that "No Parade" is my least favorite song because it sounds like anthemic punk rock and is less distinctive than the rest of the EP. I also like go out of my way to praise Spot, who is sometimes unfairly maligned (such as in the Azerrad book), for capturing the sheer intensity and emotional impact of a band who'd probably never been in a studio before.

The Birthday Party, early singles (12" EP)

This 1983 collection assembles 5 songs from Birthday Party and Boys Next Door singles, all from 1980 and 1981. They're obvious classics, like "Release the Bats" and "The Friend Catcher". Bass sounds good on 45-RPM 12"s, and the London recordings have a bit better fidelity than the Australian Tony Cohen sessions. The sheer impact of the material is obvious enough.

DAT Politics, Tracto Flirt (CD)

DAT Politics were a weird French "techno" band—in concert, 4 musicians hunched over laptops, and I'd imagine their record making process was similar. While a lot of musicians in the early-00s were expanding the bounds of techno in more austere directions, DAT Politics made weird music that was a lot of fun. They weren't quite as cartoon-like as Blectum from Blechdom, in part because they did not vocalize over their beats and tones, but the San Francisco duo may have been their closest contemporaries. Apart from the strangely trebly mastering job (wouldn't music with dance beats demand a bass-heavy sound?), Tracto Flirt sounds more surprising than it did in 2000, and it's aged nicely.

Cecil Taylor, Garden Part 1 (CD)

By the early 80s, Cecil Taylor's work had moved away from the incessant energy of his 70s work (I'm a big fan of Akisakila) and had begun to include more subtlety. Garden is a live solo recording from 1981—it was a double LP on hatHut in '83 and then this pair of CDs dates from 1990. It credits a digital recording on something called a Sanyo PCM, which I'm assuming was a competitor to Sony DASH or the Mitsubishi 880? The sound quality is fine, lacking either the air of a modern digital recording or the graininess I'd have feared from such a unit. Taylor's playing on the disc is in strong form. Short liner notes by Art Lange are followed by a very long and impenetrable text by Taylor.

Yello, Solid Pleasure (side A)

It sounds so radically different from their radio hit "Oh Yeah", it's hard to believe it's only 5 years earlier in 1980. Solid Pleasure was Yello's debut, their first of two albums on the Residents' Ralph Records label. A bit neue deutsche welle and a bit Residents absurdity, but it's probably not as overwhelming as Der Plan in the end. Der Plan was a bit more emphatic and confident sounding, while Yello had a bit of an indie humility that almost seems like a precursor to Bügsküll? Solid Pleasure contains some great songs (including the single "Bimbo" that opens the album) but it's not quite consistent throughout (despite the title). The iconic cover image is pretty great.

Polwechsel, Polwechsel (CD)

I'm a huge fan of the Polwechsel/Fennesz collaboration Wrapped Islands, from 2002. That album reflects a maturity of Polwechsel's ideas that was only beginning to show through on their debut. Originally released in 1995 (though I have the hatArt reissue), Polwechsel clearly displays the group's careful, pointillistic palette and slowly-evolving approach to their pieces. Some of the characteristic whining and floating sounds that now seem so canonically Austrian were not yet fully developed, and the influence of similar thinkers like AMM, Voice Crack, and Hugh Davies was far more manifest. It's a promising debut, from a group that more than delivered on this initial promise.

Sun City Girls, Bright Surroundings Dark Beginnings (side A)

1993 was 3 years and several LPs after Sun City Girls' classic Torch of the Mystics, and Bright Surroundings Dark Beginnings mines a similar vein. The Bishops continued to explore faux-Middle Eastern music through their crazy guitar playing and vocalizing. While Torch of the Mystics had a series of short, focused songs, Bright Surroundings Dark Beginnings features pieces that are long and repetitive. The primitive but still competent live recording evokes the feel of 70s field recordings, and the simple monotone packaging meshes perfectly with the contents inside.

Lou Reed, Metal Machine Music (CD)

The obvious thing that I notice on listening to Metal Machine Music is how much high-frequency overtone content is in guitar feedback. When modern bands like Robedoor and Skullflower exploit this palette, they record it so primitively that the high frequency overtones get lost. The excellent (uncredited) recording here (and fine re-mastering by Bob Ludwig, who the liner notes show as having mastered the original vinyl) reveals all of the beautiful harmonic detail. This reissue has nice packaging and a long essay in the liner notes too.

Wilhelm Killmayer, Fin Al Punto + 3 (side A)

I did not know anything about Wilhelm Killmayer when I bought this record—I try to buy records on Wergo when I find them at fair prices. It came out in 1973, with pieces from 1970 and 1972. Killmayer apparently is German, and there's a long interview video at ClassicalTV that I should watch one of these days. This record has a pretty crazy piece on it called "The Woods So Wide", which consists of pointillistic percussion and sustained drones. If the sources were electronic, it would be recognizably new—instead, they're clearly played by a chamber group and it dates from 1970!

The Jasmine Isle: Javanese Gamelan Music (side A)

David Lewiston's field recordings are generally well-executed, and The Jasmine Isle definitely follows this trend. It was amazing reading in Tape Op about his low budget setup—the results that he achieved, while never spectacular, were amazingly consistent for such basic tools. He also paid close attention, as on The Jasmine Isle, to capturing the actual indigenous music, and not simplifying it for an album. When some of the percussion here is obviously out of time with the perfectly interlocking melodic patterns, it just seems to belong. The gamelan pieces here are generally moderately high-energy, without vocals.

Bonzo Goes to Washington, Five Minutes (12" single)

This 1984 single combines two prominent trends of mid-80s: exploration of primitive samplers (see Dominatrix or Paul Hardcastle) and the use of found footage for subversive effect (early Negativland or Culturcide). A year after Keith LeBlanc reworked Malcolm X for the "No Sell Out" 12", bassists Bootsy Collins and Jerry Harrison teamed up as Bonzo Goes to Washington. "Five Minutes" uses Ronald Reagan's speech about outlawing Russia forever ("We begin bombing in five minutes") as its only source for vocals—they're sped up and slowed down and often retriggered (such as "b-b-b-b-bombing"). The terrifying thought of the President of the United States acting as Dr. Strangelove is impossible to miss when repeated over 2 sides for 12+ minutes, with propulsive dance beats in the background.

Archie Shepp, Coral Rock (side A)

Coral Rock was recorded in 1970, my copy dates from 1973 (not sure if it's a reissue?). I enjoy the late-60s/early-70s free-blowing albums from expatriate American jazz musicians, and this one is pretty typical. It's more characteristic of the time and place than particularly manifest as an Archie Shepp record. While he's credited as the leader, he didn't compose either piece—as much as any piece is recognizable amidst the blare, they're credited as an Alan Shorter tune and a standard. The group includes other familiar players on these sorts of crazed sessions, like Joseph Jarman and Clifford Thornton. Not a lot about Coral Rock seems to stand out, but it's a fun, inspired session (and listen).

Midnight Choir, Unsung Heroine (CD)

I have a real soft spot for Phill Brown's engineering, and he did a fabulous job with Unsung Heroine (2000). Midnight Choir, from Norway, write good roots-y songs and play them well, with less melodrama than the Tindersticks or Walkabouts, who would be their closest peers. The biggest thing that makes Unsung Heroine jump out is the sound. It's an incredibly organic, traditional sounding record, as if a 70s rock record were made with newer gear and a bit of modern insight/technique. The arrangements are smart too, with creative vocal doubling and tasteful use of a string section. The less memorable songs are carried by the sound, and the best songs jump out as a result. It's mastered subtly and quietly, which I think was an aesthetic decision here, because the clarity and balance are great.

Flying Saucer Attack, Further (side A)

Further (1995) is basically everything I'd expect a Flying Saucer Attack album to be. Lots of guitars have effects on them (especially reverb and delay), with occasional vocals or percussion peaking out. The melodies and tonality fall straight out of rock music, that makes the crazy sonic palette easy to follow. Occasionally, a huge wash of distorted noise emerges, but it somehow still manages to sound more ambient than harsh or industrial. The gatefold packaging is beautiful, but the quiet and unimpressive mastering job fails to flatter the already lo-fi recordings—there is no bass, but clarity and brightness could easily be added, and the volume could be brought up.

Laraaji, Ambient 3: Day of Radiance (side A)

Laraaji was a guy playing electric zither in repeating patterns with weird overtones. He somehow caught Brian Eno's ear (according to legend, by busking in an NYC park) and ended up releasing Ambient 3 on EG in 1980 as part of Eno's Ambient series. People often (justifiably) complain about the sound quality of EG releases (searching high and low for other pressings of the "classic" Eno albums), but this one actually sounds alright. Perhaps it's the narrow frequency range of the zither—the high frequency overtones are clear, but the instrument obviously produces no low end.

Woo, It's Cosy Inside (side A)

From what I can discern, Woo seem to have been two English brothers. Their debut LP came out in 1982 on Cherry Red, but their second album It's Cosy Inside didn't come for another 8 years. It's a tough record to explain. The two most prominent instruments are organ sidecar drum machine and clarinet. At times it the electronics grow vaguely techno-ish (from 1990, before the genre existed, almost) and at other times the clarinet pulls in a sort of lounge direction. It definitely has a strong sense of humor, that's reflected in the very primitive cover drawing. It's Cosy Inside is hard to compare to just about anything else, really. I'm always impressed when overtly uncommercial records still invest in a decent mastering job, despite their limited budget—in this case, Wally Traugott from Capitol did a fabulous job. Nice card-stock insert, too.

Bobb Trimble, Harvest of Dreams (side A)

It's amazing that this completely lost 1982 album got reissued in 2007 (on vinyl even!)—it's a cool collection of songs by a very distinctive voice. The low budget recording left far too much sibilance on the vocals, and the vinyl reissue emphasizes the S's. Harvest of Dreams really needed to go through a de-esser on the way! Technical complaints aside, it's a fascinating collection of songs, in stripped-down arrangements, that reminds me at times of Alec Bathgate, Kendra Smith, and Death Vessel. The front cover image of a goat, indoors with people, is a disturbing curiosity.

Jasper TX, A Darkness (CD)

At his best, Jasper TX is really remarkable, and the first track on A Darkness (2007) is a good example. "Better Days to Come" evolves from a beautiful ambient soundscape into a simple almost romantic melody without ever drawing attention to the change, and then slowly fades back into the soundscape. It's all impressively and flawlessly executed. The rest of the record, while still good, evolves a bit less coherently. The palette is beautiful, and the simple melodies float nicely. Sometimes the structure is less clear, and the music seems to be held together in a bit of less obvious fashion. It's aways pleasant and intriguing at the same time, but only sometimes remarkable. The austere 3-fold DigiPak looks great too.

3Ds, The Venus Trail (side A)

A weird soft spot in my taste. It's fairly lo-fi and midrange-y. The melodies are understated and not overtly catchy. The playing is precise but doesn't much stand out, and the drummer may be the weakest musician in the band. This doesn't sound like a formula for repeated listens, and The Venus Trail (1993) didn't initially grab me (I was also not impressed by the 3Ds when I saw them at this time, a fact which saddens me to this day). Everything, though, is somehow just right, and I've become a fan of The Venus Trail. The mixes are particularly just-right and sit nicely, and the vocal takes, while understated, really come through. The printed inner sleeve is a nice touch too.

The Beatles, Please Please Me (side A)

Please Please Me is not an easy record to assess—it's hard to think about the Beatles' debut without the context that we know today. One obvious fact is that half of the songs are not originals, and some of the originals (like "Misery") are clearly derivative of 50s American rock. Norman Smith's mixes are bright and present by any standard, though the 1962 recordings from the singles ("Please Please Me" for example) are a bit murkier than the 1963 recordings (at least on my 90s Capitol vinyl pressing). The playing and singing are consistently great, and the band is impressively tight for a young band in a day when overdubs were nearly impossible. This vinyl reissue (UK sequence, mono) sounds good and looks classy apart from the ugly contemporary center stickers on the vinyl.

Cocteau Twins, Garlands (CD)

Cocteau Twins obviously went on to acclaim for their beautiful atmospheric albums. Their debut Garlands (1982) gave some hints of the atmospherics that would come later, but sounded as much like Joy Division as any of their famous later records. Elizabeth Fraser could already sing, but her voice is fairly dry here, and the use of effects is pretty minimal. I do like any record with an early-80s chorus on the bass, so Garlands pushes a favorite personal button, and some of the songs are memorable. The CD reissue is competently mastered but cheaply packaged.

P. Children, P.Ch3 (side A)

P.Ch3 sounds like early-80s European industrial at its nastiest, but it's from the US in 1989. By the time that the founders of the genre had generally moved past their dance music phase and stopped releasing music completely, P. Children continued to make and record abrasive and unpleasant sounds. The only structure of each piece is a somewhat unified palette, as the album as a whole is quite diverse. There are electric guitars and basses, drum machines, both digital and analog synthesizers (or at least effects), vocals, and probably more that I can't pick out through the din. As its a bit later than its antecedents, P.Ch3 achieves a bit more clarity and aggression than the legendary early 80s industrial records. It comes in a nice clear package with clear vinyl and a blurry image silkscreened on the cover.

Richard Youngs & Simon Wickham-Smith, Kretinmuzak (CD)

Some of the later Richard Youngs & Simon Wickham-Smith records seemed to focus on a single aspect of their work. Pulse of the Rooster (my favorite R!!! & S!!! album) is their closest approximation of "pop" music, while Enedkeg has slowly evolving side-long tracks. Kretinmuzak dates from their early years (1993), when they seemed to want to fit everything on to one CD. There are some short chaotic bits alongside longer, more slowly evolving pieces. In general, it features more of their bizarre sound work and less of their melodic ideas. "Nice", while not particularly melodic, is one of their most memorable songs, with them chanting in unison about vegetables they'd like to eat.

Giuseppe Ielasi, Gesine (CD)

I once played a show alongside Giuseppe. Discussing records made by collaborators (no matter how infrequent) feels confusing enough, without the added twist when they make a fairly atypical album. The other albums of Giuseppe's that I have are full of very abstract sounds that are hard to identify how he made them (being able to watch him play did help). Gesine (2005), on the other hand, features a lot of conventionally played acoustic guitar. The guitar is surrounded by sounds from Giuseppe's typically unidentifiable palette, but it provides an organizing structure to the piece, and its absence at the end brings Gesine to a pronounced close, and 31 minutes is a great length for a full listen to the piece. I also like the consistent, slim packaging that all of the Häpna releases use, giving the label such a recognizable look.

White Lichens, White Lichens (CD)

It seems to be a phenomenon in modern drone records to record them badly, either as aesthetic decision or budgetary constraint, or perhaps just default. White/Light and White Lichens fortunately go in the other direction, thanks in no small part to Jeremy's engineering skill. The resulting albums, like 2006's White Lichens, transform a well-executed and tasteful drone album into something that's really distinctive and stands out. Given that drone music is about texture and sonic palette, I'm always amazed that more bands don't pay such careful attention to actually capturing the sounds that they make on their releases. (disclaimer, I sometimes play music with Jeremy, and he did a great job mixing our album too).

Califone, All My Friends are Funeral Singers (side C)

Quicksand/Cradlesnakes converted me to being a big Califone fan, so I measure every new record against what is probably an irrational standard. All My Friends are Funeral Singers, from 2009, is another strong, memorable Califone record, which is really a compliment after I omit my biases. The songs come through more clearly, with the band interplay a bit more subdued. There's still a wide variety of textures and the airy, spacious sound that all of Califone's records share—a blend of modern and classic that serves the music well. The songwriting is powerful, and can certainly stand on its own when brought more into focus. And, of course, every record collector is a sucker for a double LP in a beautiful gatefold package.

Steve Lacy, Scraps (side A)

1974 was the height of Steve Lacy's experimentation with chaos. Scraps features a 6 piece group wailing at (by Lacy's standards) full-bore. It's never skronky, aggressive, or harsh—it maintains Lacy's sense of subtlety and dignity no matter how cacophonous it gets. Lacy's fascination with Monk and his jazzy sensitivities, which were much more apparent in both his earlier and later work, are largely buried here amidst the activity. The short piece "Obituary", with Irène Aebi's flat, classically-informed vocals, provides an additional twist. The primitive crayon drawing on the cover, perhaps by a child, reflects clearly that Scraps is among Lacy's least austere.

Marion Brown, Geechee Recollections (side A)

Geechee Recollections, from 1973, makes it hard to fathom that Marion Brown was part of full on New York energy jazz only a few years before! Even at it's jazziest, it's pretty laid-back, without much trace of his connections to Ascension or ESP Records. The less jazzy parts are even stranger, with poetic narration and strangely "modern" mixes where the small percussion and kalimbas are close-mic'ed and compressed to come out in front of the (organically) louder instruments. The overall feel is pretty laid back, and the oddest parts sound almost like he's inventing some indigenous culture that never existed.

Mazing Vids, Drastic Mirth (12" EP)

I'll admit my biases here—I did a bit of assembling/sequencing on this EP, and I'm recording some new Mazing Vids tracks right now. I hope that my fondness for Drastic Mirth, which was recorded from 2003-2005 but not released until 2009, is at least partly objective. Mazing Vids strike me as a cross between Grauzone and early Pavement, and those qualities have remained constant over their decade of existence. The generally primitive recordings here flatter the material, which is performed a bit less frenetically than their typical live show (fortunately, only a bit—it's still pretty vibrant). The silkscreened and hand-assembled covers fit the music perfectly and look great too.

Bruce Anderson, Brutality (CD)

I'm a sucker for almost anything MX-80 Sound related. Bruce Anderson's solo CD Brutality came out in 1995, but I'm not sure how new or old the recordings were at that time? It's fairly lo-fi, with a proud announcement in the liner notes that most of it was recorded on a Tascam cassette 4-track (Myles Boisen did a nice job with mastering to bring out fidelity without losing the charm). Anderson's a great guitarist, and the CD does a nice job of blending his more delicate playing with parts that have some of the aggression of early MX-80. He uses the layering opportunities of the recording tastefully, which is not entirely an easy task when nearly all sounds are recognizably guitars . My only complaint is that 80 minutes of a fairly narrow palette is not conducive to a start-to-finish listen—I'd have preferred it shortened or split in some way.

Tall Dwarfs, Stumpy (CD)

A funny notion, even by Tall Dwarfs standards—for Stumpy, they collected loops or backing tracks from fans around the world to build their songs on top of. The results are a bit more awkward and less catchy than other Tall Dwarfs albums, but these differences are relatively minor. There are still weird pop songs built on top of strange sounds, if none quite as catchy as favorites from that era like "Highrise" or "The Fatal Flaw of the New". A notable track is the long, Velvets-y "Up" that ends Stumpy, and is pretty atypical of their work. While the Tall Dwarfs were still proudly working in primitive analog formats in 1996 (and documenting this process in the liner notes), the results are a bit less lo-fi than some of the early records.

Aaron Siegel, The Cabinet (CD)

I met Aaron when he was a session percussionist on an album I was engineering. His playing was superb and he was fun to work with. His solo CD The Cabinet (2006), of 21 2-minute pieces, also turns out to be interesting. I can't tell whether the music here is improvised or composed. On a continuum of percussion music from perhaps Varèse to Andrew Cyrille (the first jazz solo percussion record that I know of), The Cabinet seems to fall slightly more in the improv tradition (derived from jazz) than the "classical" one. The closest analog that I can think of is some of Sven-Åke Johansson's solo work, but Aaron definitely brings a voice of his own, especially with the occasional appearances of both drones and pointillism that give the album a slightly more "modern" context.

Kenneth Gaburo, Lingua II: Maledetto/Antiphony VIII (CD)

The majority of this 2008 CD reissue is a 1973 recording of Gaburo's absurd late 60s text piece Maledetto—it's hard to fathom that CRI, which is generally remembered as a dull label, released this crazy album in the first place. Lots of shouting, lots of double-entendre (even when the content seems a bit dated, it can still be absurd in such a radical sonic context). The dry liner notes by both Gaburo and Warren Burt don't really do justice to such an odd piece. The remainder of the CD is a 1984 recording of a shorter (and far murkier) tape-percussion piece "Anitphony VIII", performed by Steve Schick before he was famous.

Allinson/Brown, AV 1 (CD)

Phill Brown is a record producer who has worked with everyone from Roxy Music to Talk Talk (Mark Hollis appears, under a pseudonym, on one track on this CD). Dave Allinson is a visual artist who plays in quite obscure bands. AV 1, from 1998, owes a big debt to Brian Eno, ranging from his laid-back drum machine records like Nerve Net to the ultra-sparse piano on Discrete Music. It's a nice, well-executed album (and unsurprisingly, given Brown's background, it sounds quite good), and it certainly displays good taste in its sources of inspiration, but only at brief moments does originality shine through, mostly on the closing track "Steel".

Achim Wollscheid, Airs (CD)

Around the same time that this CD was recorded (1999), I saw an Achim Wollscheid "performance" where he hung microphones over the liquor bottles at a club and amplified the results. This CD is slightly less daring/conceptual—the terse liner notes indicate that it involves playing many CDs and cassettes at a radio station at the same time. It's a fascinating, dense cloud of sound that still manages to capture some of Wollscheid's odd creative voice. Most of the sources are pretty abstract music to begin with, though spoken voices (mostly in German) peek through on rare occasions.

Malcolm Goldstein & Masashi Harada, Soil (CD)

Of the two players, I'd been vaguely familiar with Malcolm Goldstein when I bought Soil, and unaware of Masashi Harada. Goldstein's playing is as fabulous as I'd been promised, a palette of violin whirring and scraping that's bizarre and distinctive. Masashi's piano playing is tasteful and interesting, if far closer to "convention" (by avant-improv standards) than Goldstein's. The chemistry between the two is uneven—there is certainly potential in the duo, but, to my ears, it seems that more than the infrequent collaboration documented here would be needed for this duo to really develop its ideas. Unfortunately, the liner notes indicate that geographic distance had already kept the group from regular work between the time of the recording (2002) and release (2006).

The Mandrake Memorial, The Mandrake Memorial (side A)

Less twee than The Left Banke, less baroque than Fever Tree, and less driving than Kak—somewhere in the middle lies Philadelphia's Mandrake Memorial. Their 1968 LP The Mandrake Memorial was on Poppy, which released records by everyone from Amanda Trees to Chris Smither to Townes van Zandt. The album is well recorded and performed with strong songwriting. The sound was distinguished by electric harpsichord (throughout the record!) and fragile tenor vocals. Guitarist Craig Anderton has earned minor fame as the author of books about recording—I accosted him about Mandrake Memorial when our paths crossed at the Audio Engineering Society convention last fall.

Lozenge, Doozy (CD)

I saw Lozenge a lot around the time of Doozy (2000), and now sometimes play music with Kyle, so my feelings are obviously biased. I can't totally tell nostalgia from rational reaction, but I still find Doozy a pretty crazy album. It sounds weird and somewhat lo-fi, which fits nicely with the cacophonous mess that it's presenting. Underneath the mess are very careful, if awkward, compositions, and pretty funny lyrics that can poke through all of the din (I don't remember them being nearly so comprehensible in concert). Doozy remains a disorienting but rewarding listen after all of these years' distance.

Herman's Hermits, Blaze (side A)

Blaze is a confusing record, from the vaguely psychedelic cover art to the Donovan song, "Museum", that was the single. 1967 was the same year as the Merry-Go-Round album, so sounding like Help! must not have been completely passé. MGM, though, was an even blander label than A&M, and Herman's Hermits were a commercially successful band and not just a newly-discovered teenage pop band. The biggest surprise of all might be the Yardbirds-y tremolo guitar on "Ace, King, Queen, Jack". It feels like a guilty pleasure, because it's by Herman's Hermits, but in the end, it's really just a good 60s pop record.

Joan of Arc, In Rape Fantasy and Terror Sex We Trust (CD)

Joan of Arc are a confusing band to keep track of. Their records can be great and terrible, welcoming and infuriating, sometimes all at once. Some emphasize one aspect more than another. 2003's In Rape Fantasy and Terror Sex We Trust dates from just after the semblance of a touring line-up fell apart. While the companion LP So Much Staying Alive and Lovelessness tries to hold together coherence despite the turmoil, In Rape Fantasy... just embraces the turmoil, and it's one of their more infuriating records as a result. It's probably the stronger of these two records, but it can also be a thankless listen at times.

Roxy Music, Country Life (side A)

I'm a big Roxy Music fan, but 1974's Country Life is probably their least memorable album. The songs are good, there's nothing bad about it. For a band who generally used each record to make distinct creative leap, Country Life is the one exception. The ideas have moved a bit from Stranded, but it's nowhere near the radical leap of that record or Siren or even Manifesto. Controversial cover notwithstanding, it feels mostly like just another Roxy Music record, one that I still enjoy listening to. My copy, which I think is an original US, was mastered really quietly for no obvious reason.

Bryan Maclean, ifyoubelievein (CD)

In 1997, Sundazed followed through on the crazy idea of collecting Bryan Maclean's solo recordings of his songs from the Love era. Some are demos, while others are early 80s recordings from when Rhino attempted (and never finished) a similar collection. Unsurprisingly, the original demos sound better to my ears! The 3 songs Love did release are obvious highlights, and it's exciting to hear two different versions of "Orange Skies"—apparently the first song Maclean ever wrote at age 17. The 11 unreleased songs range from great ("Fresh Hope") to utterly bizarre ("Strong Commitment") to pretty forgettable. It's not as consistent as some similar reissues (the Peter Laughner one comes to mind), but it's still an interesting historical artifact with some great songs on it.

Cabaret Voltaire, The Voice of America (side A)

The early Cabaret Voltaire LPs sound so odd and amorphous that they used to feel menacing to me (and apparently they did to other people, at least back in the day). As I've grown better at controlling old analog gear to generate these sounds, they certainly feel more approachable (though the amorphous structure part hasn't changed). It is amazing how the alien nature of these sounds still resonates with people when far more absurd palettes are so easily available. 1980's The Voice of America find Cabaret Voltaire somewhere in transition from faster and more song-oriented tracks like "Nag Nag Nag" to the more drone-like Three Mantras.

Pram, Dark Island (side A)

I've been a Pram fan for years, still very much love Sargasso Sea especially, and feel lucky that I got to see them in 1996 or so. I lost track of later albums and am catching up in a somewhat arbitrary order. Dark Island, from 2002, has a surprisingly austere black and white cover after years of bright colors. Otherwise, it's not a very radical departure. The more typical songs sound a lot like older Pram. The atypical songs aren't wildly divergent, they just stretch the bounds a bit further. The most driving moments sound more like their live sets, the abstract parts are a bit odder, and the lounge parts are even loungier. Dark Island comes on impressive, super-thick vinyl too.

Charalambides, Increase (side C)

I find Charalambides special because of their uplifting quality and emotional richness. While it was not released until 2003, Increase was recorded at a time (2000-2001) when the group was exploring their darkest material (for example, Internal Eternal, from the same era, mines a similar vein). While they're beautiful and haunting records, they're a bit less distinctive, as dark and earthy drone-based music is a more common approach, and perhaps a slightly less palatable one (depending on my mood).

Bailey/Lewis/Zorn, Yankees (side A)

This record reminds me how few US releases Derek Bailey had in the heyday of his career. While Yankees, from 1983, is definitely not his best early-80s record (for example, Aida, from 1980, is at least on CD domestically now, and is a far better demonstration of his mastery at the time), it does capture the beauty of his guitar playing. It covers plenty of Bailey's range, from his absolute most melodic to purely abstract pointillism. The trio with George Lewis and John Zorn is solid if rarely magical—at moments, it gives insight into why people at the time were so excited about Zorn's playing (especially his whispery bird-like sounds). The production (with Martin Bisi engineering) relies on fast compression (it was the early 80s!), but not to a point that's intrusive, which is a relief given that the album was on Celluloid. Old baseball photos on the cover and funny song titles, including "The Legend of Enos Slaughter", are a nice touch.

Ornette Coleman, Ornette on Tenor (side A)

Sidemen on Ornette Coleman's albums tended to come from his narrow inner circle, so perhaps the most surprising thing about 1961's Ornette on Tenor is the appearance of an obvious outsider—Jimmy Garrison on bass (around the same time he started playing with Coltrane). By 1961, Ornette had moved away from the simple melodic heads of the early records and into more abstract melodies. Between the inclusion of a more conventional jazz bassist and Ornette's switch to tenor (from the cheap plastic Grafton alto), the record does sound slightly more professional than his earlier work. At the same time, it's free and abstract in a similar way to Ornette!, which directly preceded it. This phase of Ornette's is a bit hard to pin down, as it's neither as catchy as the early Atlantic records nor as radical and inspiring as his late 60s avant classics like Empty Foxhole and Crisis. While it in some ways feels like an odd transitional period in Ornette's development, these records remain fascinating both historically and when viewed on their own.

Gamelan Music from Java (side A)

I have a lot of gamelan records, and I'm not an expert, so it can be hard to keep track. Gamelan Music from Java is a 1973 LP on Deutsche Grammophon. It's one of the most professional of my gamelan records, with very pristine performances and recording. It's all mid-tempo pieces, with some intricate arrangements and no vocals. The precise and careful performances flatter the delicacy of the material.

Bruce Gilbert, Insiding (CD)

Though I have never seen Insiding on vinyl (and by 1991, vinyl was around it's nadir), it's obviously intended for that format. There are two side-long tracks with little in common. The second piece, "Insiding" more resembles Bruce Gilbert's first two classic solo albums, with slowly evolving build structure. "Bloodlines" is splattery and confusing, a series of short bursts of divergent ideas with generally incoherent transitions between them. Both pieces rely on an overtly digital drum machine palette that's a radical departure from the analog palette of the early solo records and Dome.

The Red Crayola, Three Songs on a Trip to the United States (CD)

Part of Drag City's amazingly ambitious Red Krayola CD reissue program of the late 90s was this 1983 EP. It was the last Red Krayola before a long hiatus, down to a trio of Thompson/Chamberlain/Ravenstine. It's not a radical departure from Black Snakes, which immediately preceded it. 3 new songs in the studio (including the excellent "Monster One", which Mayo still plays live) plus live renditions of 5 oldies. The studio recordings are one of very few things I've heard from Conny's Studio that Conny Plank didn't engineer—they don't sound special, but the CD is not particularly well-mastered, so it's hard to tell what an outside engineer did with the legendary space.

Cheer-Accident, The Why Album (CD)

Chicago's Cheer-Accident cover so much ground, both musically, and conceptually, that it's hard to even start a description of one of their albums. The Why Album, from 1994, focuses on their more accessible side, with lots of catchy vocal melodies and occasional references to 70s radio hits. It does include plenty of weird time signatures, strangely structured songs, and awkwardly bombastic drumming—it couldn't be mistaken for a hit record. It also nods overtly to their conceptual side—the song "Transposition" (which sports one of The Why Album's more memorable melodies) appears three straight times, with the second and third appending "(Same Mix)" to the title. Impenetrable and memorable lyrics round out the Cheer-Accident experience for this one.

Thomas Belhom, Cheval Oblique (side A)

At the New York Art Book Fair this past fall, a table with some beautifully-packaged records on it intrigued me, but my initial conversation with the fellow selling them mostly confused me. His descriptions were fairly confusing, and I wasn't sold. The more I talked to Volker, I realized that we have a lot of common friends (from his touring in Calexico), and our long conversation about Peter Kowald left me curious about these albums. Knowing nothing about Thomas Belhom, I bought Cheval Oblique, which Volker put out in 2007 (the label is called Apparent Extent). Belhom is primarily a percussionist, and he plays most instruments on this record. I'd loosely describe it as a cross between Radian and Les Batteries, both of whom are only slightly less obscure then Belhom—maybe that's why Volker had such a hard time too?

ROVA Saxophone Quartet, Favorite Street (side A)

I have a lot of Steve Lacy records, and I've never heard half of the pieces that ROVA rearranges here (the tracks that I own are on some of my less-favorite Lacy albums, though he often recorded pieces more than once). Their treatments of Lacy are generally deferential without being (from what I can tell) literal. At times they reference jazz (despite the lack of a rhythm section), while at others, they become more fragmented and syncopated—this description could also fit a lot of Lacy's albums. By 1984, ROVA seem to have smoothed over some of the oddities from their early records on Metlanguage, as Favorite Street feels a bit more refined and careful. Art Lange's liner notes are both informative (I learned what Lacy record one of the pieces came from) and slightly pretentious (he was really eager to talk about Charles Olson).

Jon the Postman's Puerile (CD)

It's hard to say much about this one past stating the obvious fact that I was in a bad mood when I put it on. I've never seen 24 Hour Party People, but apparently an actor in it plays Jon the Postman? He was a drunk guy who sang "Louie Louie", opening for bigger bands in Manchester. On Jon the Postman's Puerile, he imitates Mark E Smith and references The Door And The Window all in about the first minute, but his improvised lyrics grow less interesting as the backing group fumbles its way through "Louie Louie" for a really long time. Nonetheless, for reasons that probably reveal ugly facts about my psyche, I keep coming back to this one and it avoids the "sell" pile. After 25 minutes, he finally moves on to something other than "Louie Louie", which may or may not be a good thing, and that's well before the all-kazoo version of "הבה נגילה". It looks like the albums were originally from 1978, with this CD having been reissued in 1998.

Kletka Red, Hybrid (CD)

A very strange hybrid of Gypsy songs and Touch n Go style (early/mid-90s) heavy rock, and a fairly confusing, diverse record. Parts really emphasize the fragile folk song elements, parts are remarkable freakouts, and parts sound like fairly straightforward heavy rock. The recording has a distinct Albini influence (Jesus Lizard/Shellac style, though Hybrid did not come out until 2000), though the mastering at times emphasizes sub-bass as if it were a techno record. Andy Moor from the Ex contributes some fantastic and creative lead guitar.

Comsat Angels, Eye of the Lens (12")

I love the early Comsat Angels, so two non-LP, Sleep No More era B-sides (1981) are enough to make me happy. A reminder to listen to two of the best songs from the album is nice too. The B-sides sound similar to the album tracks, with a couple of weird overdub touches on "Another World" and an extreme dynamic build on "At Sea". 45 RPM 12"s always sound great, and this one is no exception.

Skullflower, Last Shot at Heaven (CD)

Much of 1993's Last Shot at Heaven finds Skullflower in power-trio mode. I wouldn't mistake them for Euphoria, but I might confuse this album with the Sightings. There are hints of the sheets of aggressive drone that would make Carved into Roses so overwhelming (only a year later), but Last Shot at Heaven has a foot planted more firmly in some sort of rock idiom. Despite the fairly primitive production, some tracks have a prominent 80s reverb on a loudly-mixed snare that certainly sounds out of place. There's plenty of the weirdness here that makes me cherish Skullflower and own so many of their albums.

King Loser, You Cannot Kill What Does Not Live (side A)

On cursory listen, New Zealand's King Loser appears almost accessible, with driving rock songs in somewhat conventional structures. Somehow, though, everything is far enough off to leave them firmly in the world of strange. From Chris Heazlewood's unfriendly vocals to the often murky recordings (including the "better" recordings by Tex Houston), the whole record feels as menacing as welcoming. You Cannot Kill What Does Not Live (their second, from 1995) is my favorite King Loser, with a diverse range of pounding instrumentals (that vaguely reference the Dead C) and catchier songs ("76 Comeback" is particularly memorable). There's even a fairly "straight" cover of "Morning Dew".

Tim Hodgkinson, Sang (CD)

Hodgkinson provided the most overtly compositional voice to Henry Cow, and it's really emphasized on 2000's Sang. With far less of the chaos of Henry Cow or (especially) Konk Pack, his work can be a bit less accessible, but is just as fascinating and intellectually engaging, as his compositions here are almost overwhelming. It's amazing to think that he played almost everything on the album—at the same time, as his voice comes though so distinctly, it makes total sense.