Emitt Rhodes, Mirror (side A)

The 1971 follow-up to Rhodes's self-titled debut, Mirror contains some great songs but isn't quite as consistent in its songwriting.  Rhodes still did an impressive job recording himself (it was again mixed in the studio) and playing all of the instruments.  His vocals and melodic bass playing seem to be his greatest strengths.  He seems to have had less material ready for the album—the melodies and lyrics both seem to have been written quickly on some of the album's weaker material.  Fortunately, even the weaker material is fun to listen to, thanks to Rhodes's intuition for every aspect of making a pop song.  The cover design's 60s references are appropriate and the back cover photo is quite nice, but I can't figure out why he printed the lyrics when they're often quite mundane.

Tall Dwarfs, Weeville (side A)

1990's Weeville contains the Tall Dwarfs' most consistently focused, classic songwriting.  Fortunately, it maintains the strange textures and arrangements that make the duo distinctive and special.  The home recording is primitive, but the balances are intuitive and appropriate (my New Zealand vinyl copy is pressed nicely, too).  The underlying rhythmic loops give no hints to the origin of their strange palettes.  And there are still nice moments where they stretch out into their trademark absurdity, like "Lucky", which closes side A.  The cover photo of Chris and Alec is sufficiently silly, and the scribbled text nicely matches the album's primitive recording and simple songs.

White Fence, White Fence (side A)

Tim Presley's 2009 debut as White Fence draws heavily from older lo-fi references.  It reminds me of Brother JT Rainy Day Fun, Bevis Frond Triptych, and Strapping Fieldhands Discus.  White Fence includes a series of short, murky songs—they're woozy and slightly psychedelic, but there's never anything quite as memorably catchy as "Rider Rider", "Lights are Changing", or "Boo Hoo Hoo".  Despite the murk and occasional bursts of hiss in the high end, the mixes are generally well-balanced enough to achieve a surprising amount of clarity.  The strange line drawings and pastel colors on the cover match the music but don't reference the era that it recalls.

Dewey Redman, Ear of the Behearer (side A)

1973's Ear of the Behearer groups big names Redman, Ted Daniel, and Sirone with lesser-known players Jane Robertson (cello) and Eddie Moore + Danny Johnson (drums and percussion).  The big names are obviously the stars here, though Robertson's cello is unusual and interesting.  Stylistically, Ear of the Behearer reflects a cross-section of trends in avant-jazz in the early-70s.  It starts with blaring energy-jazz, before everything from Marion Brown's introspection to the Art Ensemble of Chicago's cerebral structures make appearances.  Everything is executed well, and Redman's compositions continue to pay bits of homage to Ornette's tonal ideas, even as the arrangements and styles vary wildly.  The record sounds a bit murky in stereo (I don't have a way to listen to the original quad mixes), and I often wish Sirone were louder.  The front cover photo, which renders Redman largely in silhouette looks great, and the font matches it nicely—it hints at referencing older jazz covers while still looking modern.

The Shocking Blue, The Shocking Blue (side A)

1970's The Shocking Blue is a US only LP that assembles tracks off of the band's second and third Dutch albums.  As a result, it contains the two best-known Shocking Blue songs—"Love Buzz", which Nirvana later covered, was on 1969's At Home, while "Venus", which Bananarama transformed into a synth-pop hit, appeared on their 1970 self-titled LP.  These two covers seem incredibly incongruous, but the album sits nicely in the middle.  Punchy drums and heavy guitars that often follow the vocal melodies are juxtaposed against (uncredited) pretty keyboards and of course Mariska Veres's majestic voice.  Veres's striking face is also featured prominently on the cover of this album.  This US pressing sounds a bit murky—I've never heard the Dutch originals to know if they sound clearer.

The Gun Club, Fire of Love (side A)

While the Gun Club are closely associated with their frontman Jeffrey Lee Pierce, the most remarkable thing about 1981's Fire of Love may be the band's incredibly tight interplay.  At a time when such precision was not always in style, the Gun Club, like the Dream Syndicate, worked together as an efficient ensemble.  This quality does not downplay Pierce's memorably emotive singing or distinctive fusion of blues (filtered a bit through classic rock) and punk songwriting conventions.  My copy (a 1982 Italian pressing) has almost no low-end, but the treble is neatly-shaped without a harsh top.  The front cover reflects the album nicely—appropriated images that vaguely recall the blues are assembled in a simple, pasted-up layout.

Cecil Taylor, Nefertiti: The Beautiful One Has Come (side C)

Recorded in 1962 (though my Arista pressing dates from 1975), Nefertiti: The Beautiful One Has Come is one of Taylor's earliest recordings with alto player Jimmy Lyons, who was his right hand for many years.  From the beginning of their collaboration, they integrated seamlessly.  They both have the ability to move from overt jazz references (which turn up more here than on some of their later work) to free wailing, and they can sustain incredibly high energy levels when called for (which happens far less here than on a later record like Akisakila).  Nefertiti dates from Sunny Murray's short-lived association with Taylor—before Andrew Cyrille became a distinctive anchor, Murray added a bit more chaos to the ensemble.  The recordings here sound OK for a live recording, though Lyons sometimes pulls a bit too far into the foreground, and Murray's cymbals overpower the rest of his kit (this partly stems from his playing style).  The Arista release unfortunately does not look very good or flatter the album's contents.

Anthony Braxton, Trio and Duet (side A)

1974's Trio and Duet displays two completely opposite sides of Braxton's work.  On side A, he performs his own composition with Leo Smith and Richard Teitelbaum.  Its wide dynamics and almost mathematical structure, with sections of near-silence, displays his overt debt to the Western classical tradition.  Side B features 3 drummerless standards performed with David Holland on bass.  Despite the stripped-down instrumentation, it references many aspects of jazz conventions, and Braxton's playing reflects his well-documented fondness for Lee Konitz and Warne Marsh.  Despite having been recorded in the same session, this side sounds a bit murkier than the trio composition.  The image of Braxton on the front cover is far nicer than the almost romantic font and bold primary blue that surround the photograph.

Arcane Device, Engines of Myth (side A)

David Myers of Arcane Device was part of the Downtown New York crowd when he made 1988's Engines of Myth, and he continues to make records today.  The attractive press kit that came with my used LP mentions gigs at La Mama, A Mica Bunker, and the Kitchen.  The liner notes on the back explain that Myers's instrument was electronic feedback.  He uses it to produce mostly drones, which align in layers.  They sometimes hold a constant pitch, and other times they shift.  The high-frequencies in particular jump out.  At a few moments, the tones change to more percussive sounds that pulse and create more energy, but these points make up a small part of Engines of Myth.  The minimal front cover with the circular design-y fonts matches the album well, and I can't quite tell how the thick layering of colors was produced on the glossy cover paper.

Aphrodite's Child, 666 (side C)

1972's 666 appears to be a lengthy concept album based on the Book of Revelation.  The group is notable for the future success of Vangelis Papathanassiou with his electronic music soundtracks, such as Chariots of Fire.  666 has a few melodic and memorable pop songs near the beginning of the album, and it gradually devolves toward choas, including a long stretch of heavy breathing.  There are also some parts that sound like a cross between early progressive rock and Greek soundtrack artists like Mikis Theodorakis.  The narrative lyrics relate to the End of the World, complete with "The Four Horsemen", and the front cover includes a quote from John 13:18.  The vinyl mastering is bright and loud, especially for 1972, and I'm still trying to decipher the funny credit from the liner notes, "Passing by: Giorgio Gomelsky".

Anduin, Abandoned in Sleep (side A)

The most distinctive and unusual thing about 2009's Abandoned in Sleep might be how thick and murky it sounds.  Electronic music has always tended to emphasize modern highs and dance-y lows, but this album is full of rich low-mids.  Anduin's Jonathan Lee has released a collaborative LP with Jasper TX and he runs a small record label.  Abandoned in Sleep features cameos from many figures in the ambient/electronic/indie world.  It contains 10 short tracks that land structurally somewhere between Stars of the Lid's stasis and Machinefabriek's flowing evolution.  They feel like short, drifting sketches of ideas.  My favorite among them features a chorused bass sound reminiscent of the early 80s.  The obviously digital photo on the cover is softened by its dimness against the black background, and it's printed on super-thick and nice cardboard.  The LP comes with a CD of the same material for convenience.

Jackdaw with Crowbar, Sink! Sank! Sunk! (12" EP)

Jackdaw with Crowbar crossed Gang of Four style art-punk (complete with overtly political lyrics) with textural workouts that usually preserved at least some of the drive of the punk elements.  Songs sometimes drift between formlessness and structure, moving in either direction.  1987's Sink! Sank! Sunk!, the group's second EP, reflects these approaches and even includes radio samples with news of the day.  The two sides were recorded separately—neither is particularly hi-fidelity (despite the 45 RPM 12" release format), but side A has a bit of polish and slickness while side B is fully raw.  The primitive cover art emphasizes the group's punk rock background far more than its arty explorations.

Duet Emmo, Or So it Seems (side A)

After Wire initially parted ways, Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis were involved with many albums, often using the Dome moniker.  1982's Or So it Seems, a trio where they collaborate with Daniel Miller of Mute Records and The Normal, was released under the name Duet Emmo.  Or So it Seems includes two basic modes.  The instrumentals are minimal, repetitive, and slightly abrasive—they sound more like minimal European techno from the early 2000's than anything released in 1982.  The vocal tracks drench the dry and vaguely Goth-informed voices with some reverb—both the melodies and style fit much more with the era of the album's release.  The tracks alternate somewhat arbitrarily.  The instrumental parts sound rich and great, the vocals lack a bit of clarity.  And the minimal cover art looks great and fits the music's style appropriately.

Rüdiger Carl Inc., King Alcohol (New Version) (side A)

Rüdiger Carl's 1972 debut is typical of German free-improv albums from the early-70s.  King Alcohol (New Version) is well executed, but it gives few hints of how inventive his work would become soon thereafter.  Where his mid-70s collaborations with Irène Schweizer are more differentiated, King Alcohol is nonetheless a fine album.  Rüdiger Carl Inc. was a trio with Gunter Christmann on trombone and the less-well-remembered percussionist Detlef Schönenberg.  Their playing is interesting and tasteful, and the live recording quality is competent.  The simple line drawing on the cover is funny and contrasts emphatically with the gothic font.  The combination, while absurd, gives little hint of the album's musical contents—as this style of improvisation had not yet calcified into a genre, the incoherence seems historically somewhat appropriate.

Funkadelic, Free Your Mind... and Your Ass will Follow (side A)

First, I have to mention that the Unipak gatefold opens in the wrong direction, with the LP sitting on the left rather than the more obvious right.  Packaging fetishes aside, 1970's Free Your Mind... and Your Ass Will Follow is a strange and powerful record.  While Funkadelic of course came to be known for its more overt dance/funk moves, the first three albums aren't very dance-y—they amble awkwardly through rock and funk, with strange studio production thrown in for good measure.  It reminds me at times of the work at that time of Sly Stone, Dr. John, the Temptations ("Unite the World"), and maybe even Santana ("Soul Sacrifice").  The songwriting is often not as important as the crazy sounds here, with far too much ping pong panning to make sense.  And despite the odd folding, the cover design looks great too.

Sparks, Indiscreet (side A)

1975's Indiscreet marks the end of Sparks's canonical era, when the group was based in England.  It sounds a bit cleaner, brighter, and prettier than Kimono My House or Propaganda.  At times this approach flatters the songs, while at others, I wish there was a bit more grit.  It definitely hints at the sound of later Sparks albums like No. 1 in Heaven.  Sparks's departure for a new approach seems inevitable when listening to Indiscreet—the songwriting, while still remarkably crafted, feels a bit less inspired than on the two albums that preceded it.  The cover images are, of course, funny and memorable—in addition to looking great, they reflect the same sense of humor that is prominent in the lyrics.

Sun Ra and his Solar-Myth Arkestra, The Solar Myth Approach vol. 1 (side A)

The Solar Myth Approach vol. 1 feels typical for Sun Ra's work circa 1971.  It's diverse and confusingly sequenced, with some vocals, a long percussive section, weird keyboard sounds, and even a jazz tune.  None of the tracks is particularly distinctive for Sun Ra of this era, so it's a fascinating and rewarding but also slightly perplexing listen.  A lot of staple Arkestra members appear here, including John Gilmore, Marshall Allen, Pat Patrick, and June Tyson.  The images of Sun Ra on the cover and in the packaging are amazing, and the sound quality is standard/adequate for these things (I have a reissue on gray-ish vinyl).

The Fall, There's a Ghost in My House (12" EP)

There's a Ghost in My House includes a bit of everything that the Fall were making in 1988, without any effort at assembling a coherent EP.  The 12" includes catchy rock music, a simple dance track with drum machines and electronics, and some splattery incoherence that recalls the Fall's earlier years.  The EP dates from roughly the same time as The Frenz Experiment, and the aesthetic similarities are obvious.  The cover image is funny, but lacks the attention that even the band's more chaotic covers reflect.  The EP sounds professional, but the low-end in the bass is very light, especially given that it plays at 45 RPM.

Source of Yellow, Source of Yellow (side A)

Source of Yellow are old close friends, especially Peter whom I play music with, so I'm obviously biased here.  Their 2010 self-titled LP is cool and interesting, and reflects aspects of the band that their live shows have de-emphasized.  Sounds are often processed to be compressed and small.  The album's sonic primitivism is rooted more in 80s industrial and cassette cultures than in any 90s sense of lo-fi.  The band's musicianship and drive are backgrounded to the crazy effects that provide energy and impact in their place.  Source of Yellow looks great, with an abstract letter-pressed design on super-thick paper.

Unrest, imperial f.f.r.r. (side A)

Unrest's 1992 album imperial f.f.r.r. came at the early end of the indie rock explosion and helped define some of its conventions.  While the album was recorded in a professional studio, it sounds primitive and stripped down, in some ways resembling the lo-fi movement that came in the near future.  The tracks are really diverse, from memorable melodic songs to an electronic track with dance beats, and the sequence between tracks lacks pattern or coherence.  The simple design of the front cover, however, seems to have had little influence on indie-rock designs, which tended to be more personal and chaotic.  This 2010 vinyl reissue looks great, on clear vinyl and with a printed inner sleeve, but the mastering emphasizes the album's primitive qualities, with light low-end and uneven track volumes.

Alexander von Schlippenbach & Paul Lovens, Stranger than Love (side A)

2/3 of Evan Parker's piano-based trio, collaborating without the prominent sax player, created 1985's Stranger than Love.  It de-emphasizes any jazz influences that appear in the trio's work, and instead explores the group's less referential ideas.  In some parts, the sound and development are recognizably abstract with an emphasis on texture.  In other parts, the playing is more coherent and appears to have a structure, even though it was created through improvisation.  Despite being pressed on nice and very thick vinyl, the treble in the live recording is exaggerated and harsh.  The sparse cover art beautifully hints at what is inside while also revealing very little.

Caetano Veloso, Caetano Veloso (1971) (side A)

Caetano Veloso's 1971 self-titled album is confusing for a few reasons.  As it's his third self-titled album, just identifying it in a discography can be difficult (it's sometimes referred to by the title of its opening track, "A Little More Blue"). I usually associate Veloso with his more festive and triumphal tropicalia.  Here, he's found singing sad, delicate songs over sparse arrangements.  Finally, while working in exile, he sang almost entirely in English.  The resulting album is lonely but beautiful—well-executed in a style that is not Veloso's most obvious or natural.  The front cover photo of Veloso does not give many hints of the album's content—the blurry black-and-white back cover in some ways fits the album better.  Its recording from the height of early-70s English studio work flatters the music and performances.

The Kinks, Arthur (side A)

Measured on its own, 1969's Arthur (or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) is a good album, but it obviously does not compete with Something Else or Village Green that immediately preceded it.  Some of the songs are great, including of course "Victoria", but the writing isn't as consistent as in the past.  There are some nice arrangements, but the feel sometimes drives and pulses a bit more than the songs call for.  It sounds like it might be the Kinks' first album mixed on a solid-state console, and they seem to have made the sonic transition less smoothly than the Beatles did with Abbey Road.  I'm also still trying to figure out the purpose of the strange cartoon on the inner gatefold.

The Eternals, Out of Proportion (12" EP)

2004's Out of Proportion abandons the Eternals usually clear sound for excursions in dark murkiness. The tracks range from the melodic (including a stretched out and abstract version of "High Anxiety", which appeared in tighter form on Rawar Style) to the free. What's consistent is the dub-like cloud that extends throughout the album. Electronics and processing are emphasized more than musicianship, though both Damon's processed vocals and Wayne's bass playing do leap out in places. The record, on a Puerto Rican label, seems to have been pressed at a primitive pressing plant—while the pressing seems good, the rough edges were quite literally left intact on the vinyl. The energetic white-on-black collage cover is typical of Damon's work on other Eternals albums.

Oil Tasters, Oil Tasters (side A)

The sterile and primitive recording/mixing of 1982's Oil Tasters seems to miss some of the power that I can only guess this group delivered in performance. Fortunately, the playing is great, and the songs really shine through. The Oil Tasters were a trio with the strange configuration of sax/bass/drums, and they had a punk energy with less classic rock than the Minutemen but less chaos than the Contortions. Richard Lavalliere was a funny and memorable lyricist, and his crazy tales shine through the band's potent din. The cover art is also hilarious—a weird picture of a tire with a couple of pastel monochrome fields (and pastel monochrome lettering too).

Anduin & Jasper TX, The Bending of Light (side A)

Swedish electronic musician Jasper TX (Dag Rosenqvist) is the better known half of this duo, but 2009's The Bending of Light is not very typical of his work. While Rosenqvist's solo albums usually evolve in an emotive and narrative fashion, the tracks on The Bending of Light are more static. They vary drastically in dynamics between tracks but only minimally within them. The tracks' evolution owes more to ambient music, without the purposeful development that Rosenqvist usually relies on. The simple packaging with thick cardstock is beautiful, and the album comes with the same material on both CD and vinyl.

XTC, Go + (12" EP)

1978's Go + was a bonus 12" EP that came with the XTC album Go 2. While the spartan black packaging is less memorable than Go 2's comic text, the music inside is far more chaotic. 5 of the pop songs from Go 2 have been transformed into radical dub re-arrangements. Tape speeds were sometimes altered and unusual effects were added. Some songs preserve their original vocals, while others are instrumentals. The results don't sound particularly extreme by modern standards, but they're distinctive and full of personality. The only comparable record I can think of is Basement 5's even-more-obscure In Dub. And the 45 RPM pressing sounds great.