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.