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.