Eleventh Dream Day, New Moodio (side A)

I've followed Eleventh Dream Day for over 20 years.  I most admire their raw and guitar-heavy moments, and when their approach becomes too clean and pretty, they often disappoint me.  After the dual-guitar power of Beet and Lived to Tell, I always perceived 1993's El Moodio as a bit of a step back.  It's a bit too pretty and careful, and there's too much emphasis on the vocal melodies for my taste.  When I learned about the forthcoming release of demos from that album, I pre-ordered a copy, and it's lived up to my expectations.  The songs are still a bit catchier and less tonally-static than my favorite parts of Lived to Tell (or even their recent Riot Now!, which I also quite like).  It's hard to tell if this stylistic chapter reflects the influence of new guitarist Wink O'Bannan, or if the band was using the melodic emphasis to seek commercial success.  Perhaps the songwriting merely reflects the creative chapter in the band's life.  Even on the prettier songs, the recordings on New Moodio capture the band's live energy and power — they seem to have been freed from a click track and from overly-pretty mix.  They also seem to be having a lot of fun playing, perhaps because they were making demos with an unclear future for the album.  The mixes here aren't perfect, with weirdly uneven stereo balances, so I'm guessing they were made quickly for listening, but the band's enthusiasm and energy come through clearly — unlike El Moodio, there were no fashion-conscious mix decisions here to age poorly.  New Moodio also contains great songs like "Sunflower" that were omitted from the final album and never before released.  The simple painting of a crab, surrounded by hand-lettered titles, reflects the perfectly rough-hewn quality of the contents.

David Thomas, More Places Forever (side A)

On 1985's More Places Forever, Thomas collaborated with two members of Henry Cow, Lindsay Cooper and Chris Cutler, and also his long-time Pere Ubu associate Tony Maimone.  The strongest voice here, which everyone follows, is Lindsay Cooper.  Her abstract double-reed melodies create the compositional foundation for the pieces.  Thomas's lyrics develop narratives that interweave with the melodic structure.  While the songs use repetition, there are not obvious verses or choruses in the structure or lyrics.  Maimone's bass playing impressively gives a rock feel to their timing and groove, while following the complicated melodic structure of the compositions.  While Cutler accentuates the compositions rhythmically, he and Maimone do not operate as a conventional rock rhythm section — Cutler dances around the beat implied by Cooper's reeds, as Maimone locks into the same implied pulse.  The sound of the album is modern and slightly sterile — it subtly references then-contemporary new wave hits, or perhaps then-commercial jazz recordings, more than any work these artists have done before.  And the completely absurd front cover painting and design, with their pastel hues, bear no relationship to the music, or even Thomas's lyrics.

Alex Lukashevsky / Felicity Williams / Daniela Gesundheit, Too Late Blues (side A)

I'm a fan of Alex Lukashevsky's work going back to his old band Deep Dark United, and on 2012's Too Late Blues, he reworks the old Deep Dark United song "Princess of Darkness".  This rearrangement gives a sense of how his aesthetic has evolved.  With Deep Dark United, the underlying vocal and guitar melodies of "Princess of Darkness" are surrounded by countermelodies and a driving percussion part that goes against the core rhythm of the song.  On Too Late Blues, all of the arrangement closely augments the core structure of the song.  The accompanying female vocals follow the vocal melodies with harmonies or echoes, and the vibraphone follows the guitar melody.  Even the percussive guitar from the chaotic introduction conveys the structure clearly on its own, with only minimal help from vocals.  The rest of Too Late Blues follows a similar structure — Lukashevsky's inventive songwriting is emphasized, and the new songs seem to have grown even more personal and distinctive.  The arrangements, which rely more on vocals than instruments, help to further emphasize his compositional and lyrical vision.  I miss the chaotic arrangements and energy that flattered his songs in Deep Dark United, but I also appreciate the almost-transparent insight into his mature songwriting voice.  The recording is obviously primitive, but the sparse arrangements keep everything in the foreground, and the weird timbre of the acoustic guitar fits the songs nicely.  The cover image of the three singers captures both the singer-songwriter tradition of Too Late Blues and its distinctly modern quality, and the thick, printed inner sleeve is a nice touch.

John Wiese, Dramatic Accessories (side A)

John Wiese has made countless albums, both solo and in collaborations, for over a decade, but 2008's Dramatic Accessories is the only one which I'm familiar with.  On it, Wiese uses a fairly narrow compositional palette of noise and scraping sounds.  The closest comparison to his sound selections would be Hugh Davies, as they appear to be acoustic sounds that are more amplified than processed.  Where Davies performs these scrapes in rapid succession to create dense layering, Wiese relies here on a sparser approach.  He also, in at least one place clearly manipulates panning, in a way that would be hard to achieve acoustically — as this panned sound repeats, I assume some looping or copying was also exploited.  Wiese's compositions feel more free than purposeful, with little evidence of internal logic or differentiation between tracks.  He does create wide dynamic variation, as quiet scrapes alternate with loud ones in a somewhat purposeful fashion.  The fidelity of Dramatic Accessories is thick and midrange-y, and it's hard to tell if this is purposeful, or where in the chain the limitation was introduced.  It's pressed on a slightly odd slab of vinyl, with edges that have corners at the top and bottom, instead of a more triangular peak in the center.  Dramatic Accessories is beautifully and memorably packaged in a thick piece of folded paper that seems to be screened, in multiple colors, on the outside, and printed on a glossy texture on the inside.

Jar Moff, Commercial Mouth (side A)

Jar Moff squeezes a lot of ideas into 2013's Commercial Mouth.  The album contains two side-long tracks, with the B-side being the title track and the A-side having an unpronounceable title.  Each track evolves continuously without reference back to any previous point.  New sounds are constantly introduced, and they're often different from what has come before.  Some sounds have pitch and shape, where others have more noise-oriented timbres.  While it's not clear that an analog source was used, references to analog synthesis appear alongside textures of overtly digital origin.  In addition to the digitally-constructed noises, some of the resonant timbres do not resemble a conventional analog filter.  While the pieces flow organically, there does not seem to be any overarching logic to Jar Moff's compositional strategies.  The pieces generally maintain a constant dynamic level, with brief, temporary changes as sounds enter and exit the field.  The record is heavily compressed to achieve a very loud pressing volume, which might further reduce dynamics that were originally included.  The frequency distribution skews heavily into the presence frequencies, which might also contribute to the volume of the vinyl pressing.  Bass sounds do occasionally appear, and they sometimes provide brief moments of pulse in a field that usually lacks any sense of time of rhythm.  The impressive packaging provides more structure than the musical contents.  A geometric pattern and artist / title information is screened on the plastic sleeve, to appear in front of another geometric pattern on the outside jacket.  Since each pattern is a single color, it gives a simpler and more coherent presentation than the constantly-evolving palette of Jar Moff's music.

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Green River (side A)

While CCR had an incredibly consistent run for several years, 1969's Green River is my favorite Creedence album.  It stands out with its songwriting, with obvious classics like "Bad Moon Rising" along with slightly less-famous ones like "Wrote a Song for Everyone".  My only complaint might be the sequence, with the two weakest songs at the end ("Sinister Purpose" is especially undifferentiated).  And of course, the iconic cover image and design still look great.  What stood out to me on this listen was the sound of the album, and especially the rhythm section.  To make room for the bright and present vocals and guitars, the drums are particularly buried.  The snare lacks attack, in a way that could be described as friendly, and the cymbals wash out in the background.  The bass is incredibly clean and obviously direct — there's enough detail on top to hear the articulation, but the lack of overtones or any sort of distortion is noticeable.  It's not a classic bass sound, but it fits perfectly in the mix, and it leaves a lot of room for the guitars.  While the presence frequencies are full of guitars and vocals, the master drops off in the higher treble frequencies, at least on my copy (an original enough pressing to have been on Fantasy).  By 1969, it was definitely possible to capture at least more high treble than is heard here.

Mission of Burma, The Horrible Truth About Burma (side A)

While Mission of Burma today are seen as heroes of the American post-punk underground, that status is not at all audible when listening to The Horrible Truth About Burma.  This 1985 album captures live performances from their final 1983 farewell tour, and it sounds like a document of a working band on the road in small clubs.  The sound quality is rough and midrange-heavy, and no effort was made to add polish — talking and modest applause between songs is included without editing.  It's also amazing to picture the band touring with an extra analog tape deck to document their efforts — these recordings predate any digital technology, and there was obviously no budget for an extra truck.  The performances are preserved with imperfections, but the amazing energy of Peter Prescott and Roger Miller at their best was obviously unmatchable.  Apart from the inclusion of "Peking Spring", which predates even Signals, Calls, and Marches, the songs mostly emphasize the group's more drone-y songs, without the foreground melodies of songs like "That's When I Reach for My Revolver" or "Academy Fight Song".  Martin Swope's tape manipulations behind the soundboard grow more perceptible here than they often feel on the studio albums.  I was disappointed to learn that various reissues have sought to diminish much of the album's authentic magic — in addition to beginning with an added "Revolver" and attempting a "modern" mastering job, one version of the album even edited out applause and conversation between songs!

Bob Dylan, Blonde on Blonde (side C)

1966's Blonde on Blonde is obviously a canonical record that is hard to write about.  What surprised me here is how far it feels from Dylan's folk roots.  The songs still hint at Dylan's troubador background.  While Highway 61 Revisited is fully electric and arranged, the song structures retain hints of feeling found, as much as created.  The historical referents, and the feeling of timelessness, have been largely abandoned by Blonde on Blonde.  Songwriting, arrangement, and recording quality here all borrow more from then-contemporary rock music than from any traditional folk influences.  Sonically, Blonde on Blonde nearly matches the bright, present quality of a Beatles album.  While the incredibly loose, unrehearsed performances do not match the polish of hits in 1966, it feels more like a rehearsal for a rock album than an impromptu folk session.  And songs like "Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again" borrow their structure and melodic feel from blues-based rock more than Dylan's folk background.  Even the cover image, which wraps around the gatefold and lacks any other design elements, abandons the white frame that brought an older feel to Dylan's previous albums.  As Dylan began to move back toward idiomatic folk elements after Blonde on Blonde, I find it easy to forget just how much the double-album fits into the rock of its day.

Hi Sheriffs of Blue, untitled singles compilation (12" EP)

The Hi Sheriffs of Blue released two 7"s, in 1980 and then 1981, before collecting the four songs on to this 12" EP, which is packaged in a plain black disco-sleeve.  Only a year later, in 1982, the group, with an expanded line-up, recorded a more polished four-song EP.  That EP featured more careful musicianship and a sonically clearer technical quality.  The original singles document the group in its simpler and more primitive state.  Mark Dagley's involvement with the Girls traces a more direct line here, with similarly atonal and narrative vocals.  In addition to Dagley's past band, these songs draw from both their no-wave counterparts and blues-based rock.  The style foreshadows the way '90s bands from the Blues Explosion to Royal Trux loosely and creatively drew from blues-based influences in a more abstract and primitive setting.  Hi Sheriffs of Blue did not assume an ironic posture, but took a more literal path to chaos that feels closer to their peers in New York at the time.  The A-side songs, from the first single, are more driving rockers, while the two parts of "Cold Chills", from the 1981 single, employ starker arrangements.

Seefeel, Fracture / Tied (10" EP)

On 1994's Fracture / Tied, Mark Clifford moved simple drum loops to the foreground of Seefeel's sound.  Each track, which occupies an entire side of the 10" EP, is structured with a simple drum machine loop that repeats from beginning to end.  The drum loops sounded incredibly sterile by the standards of 1994, to give a sense of modernity, but by the extreme standards of digital sounds only a few years later, they sound smeary, with evidence of classic analog circuits in the signal path.  The loops provide propulsion and rhythm, with a lack of meter that situates them far from any possible dance music reference.  Underneath the foreground rhythms, washy atmospheric sounds play in the background.  Everything has a lot of reverb, so the only recognizable source is a female voice on "Fracture".  It's hard to tell how much these parts were performed or programmed to create the subtle textural evolution that lays under the electronic loops.  The simple orange cover, on nice textured paper, foreshadows the austere design style that artists like Alva Noto brought to prominence in album covers, only a few years later.

The Nightingales, The Nightingales (12" EP)

Robert Lloyd and his crew continue under the Nightingales moniker, more than 30 years after they released their best-remembered album Pigs on Purpose.  After moving to a cleaner style in the late-80s, they've even returned to the post-punk aesthetic for which they're best remembered.  The 4 song EP The Nightingales, which preceded Pigs on Purpose by only months in 1982, follows a similar stylistic pattern.  The obvious influence here is the Gang of Four's classic Entertainment! LP, with bright, jagged guitars and syncopated drums in the foreground.  While many of the songs on Pigs on Purpose, like Entertainment!, cleanly reference rock song structure, The Nightingales feels a bit less focused and coherent.  Structural elements are harder to discern, as the songs seem to hop about more through time.  Lloyd's vocals, while retaining his references to crooning, tend to be buried somewhat in the background.  The recording of The Nightingales feels even more simple and primitive than Pigs on Purpose.  Where Pigs on Purpose had found a cover design style to match the contents, this EP employs a comedic newspaper reference with little relationship to the band's music.

Half Japanese, Horrible (12" EP)

Half Japanese's sprawling debut triple-LP box, 1980's 1/2 Gentlemen / Not Beasts, is often remembered as a canonical blast declaring the breadth of their vision and launching their careers.  The band's late-80s albums received glowing reviews on their release — they captured a more consistently song-like vision, with slightly better recording fidelity.  The records from in between, including 1982's humorously-titled Horrible, sometimes get lost in the shuffle, but they still sound great on repeated listen.  This era unsurprisingly documents the transition from a more diverse and chaotic band into one playing a more even set of rock-oriented songs.  The qualities that make Half Japanese magical remain.  Horrible features five very short songs with overt vocal melodies, which generally have a slight blues influence and a pronounced chaotic element.  They're followed by a longer and less-structured vamp, "Walk Through Walls".  The recording of the instruments is very lo-fi and primitive, but an effort was definitely made to bring Jad Fair's vocals to the foreground with clarity.  The Jad Fair painting looks great on the cover, but I'm not sure who chose the incongruous font or what they could have been thinking.

Lou Reed, Street Hassle (side A)

I've heard a memorable story about 1978's Street Hassle, of a friend who used to cry every time that she listened, because it can be such an emotionally moving album.  In a way it's surprising, because Street Hassle marks Lou Reed's most overt dalliance with the more austere avant-classical tradition that was clearly part of his milieu in New York.  Juxtaposing a simple, near-spoken vocal with an incredibly repetitive string part, the eleven-minute title track resembles Robert Ashley's work as much as Reed's.  Yet Reed draws from the emotional impact of rock music, in both his lyrics and his performance, to achieve an impact very different from the detachment of Ashley's narratives.  The stylistic departures of Street Hassle also allow for a radical reworking of the old Velvet Underground song "Real Good Time Together", long before the original was officially released on Another View.  In addition to employing the radical binaural experiments of Manfred Schunke, who had previously worked with Sand on Golem, Street Hassle finds nearly every sound recorded very differently from the standard rock vocabulary.  A notable example is the snare drum on "Dirt", which is more wash than impact.  While the cover design hints subtly at the radical content, it looks in many other ways like a typical Lou Reed record, with a slightly-odd portrait of him on the cover.

Cy Dune, No Recognize (12" EP)

It can feel clumsy to write about a record to which I made even a small contribution, and I recorded basic tracks for one song on 2013's No Recognize.  Cy Dune's Seth Olinsky, who also plays in Akron / Family and sometimes with Rhys Chatham, plays most of the parts on No Recognize, and his personality shines through it.  The simple, blues-based songs range from heavy and full-bore rockers to somewhat more spacious arrangements.  All of the songs employ blown-out and exaggerated sounds in their bright and present mixes, even in the more open parts of the EP.  The vocal melodies are consistently melodic and memorable, despite playing a background role to the propulsive music.  It's also impressive how much drive the guitar creates, through aggressive playing and distorted sounds — only "Move the Room" has a propulsive drum part to carry it.  The variety of material leads to No Recognize flowing slightly awkwardly between the songs, as it moves from dense to sparse and back over six short tracks.  The murky cover image of Olinsky emphasizes both his close involvement with the material and its smeary nature.

Jon Hassell, Earthquake Island (side A)

Jon Hassell is usually associated with his sparse, ambient records — he has made countless albums in this style, including high-profile collaborations with Brian Eno.  It's thus easy to forget that his second album,  1978's Earthquake Island, featured a large ensemble, playing more energetic and grooving music.  It employs bass guitar, layers of percussion, and even vocals (but not overt lyrics) to create a series of underlying rhythmic beds — each piece is then built on top of an underlying framework, which repeats for its duration.  Hassell's trumpet still floats above the grooves, along with floaty electronic textures.  While some of the players, like Badal Roy and Miroslav Vitous, have fusion-leaning backgrounds, Hassell's personality pulls them firmly into his more drone-centered approach.  Earthquake Island sounds a bit like an instrumental version of the Talking Heads' Fear of Music, with rhythms that hint at African influences coupled with rock and electronic ideas — while the two albums are roughly contemporaries, Fear of Music obviously received a lot more attention.  Unlike Fear of Music, which uses exaggerated studio techniques to draw attention to its modernity, Earthquake Island's mixes organically draw the listener into the performance.  The front cover painting employs Middle Eastern referents, and it's placed in a then-modern design framework — the combination serves the music nicely.

The Band, Rock of Ages (side C)

In 1972, the Band released the double-live album Rock of Ages.  While the Band's songwriting and performances are exceptional, Rock of Ages is best remembered for Allen Toussaint's horn charts, which appear on two thirds of the album.  He neatly interweaves a five-piece horn section, including jazz notables Howard Johnson and JD Parran, around the Band's performances.  The players seem to interweave effortlessly, with the horns tastefully augmenting the songs and playing.  The horns play a prominent role on the cover of "Don't Do it", which opens the album and was released as its memorable single.  Garth Hudson also gets a feature here, with his extended solo on "The Genetic Method".  Rock of Ages shows off the group's incredible ensemble playing, and their ability to execute it consistently in live concerts.  While the vocal harmonies are impressively strong, the lead vocals sometimes lack the narrative quality that makes the studio album performances so special — it's obviously difficult to sing with that level of thespian personality while playing.  The recordings lack the magical feeling of the first two Band albums that almost seem found — they sound instead more like a conventional concert recording.  The gold-leaf inlay on the cover and the triple-gatefold give the package a nice majesty, which the music obviously lives up to.

T. Rex, Electric Warrior (side A)

Canonical and iconic albums can sometimes be the hardest to write about, and everyone has listened countless times to 1971's Electric Warrior, so it's hard to add new perspective.  The biggest thing that surprised me, on this listen, was just how little drive and energy the performances really have.  The drums tend to lag slightly, and the snare sounds soft and friendly with little punch.  String arrangements on songs like "Tiny Dancer" add a lyrical sentimentality that blends into the background only because it sounds so familiar.  Marc Bolan's vocals are full of charisma and personality, but they also sound like he's whispering.  Sometimes Bolan's guitars bring attitude, and they can employ exaggerated distortion, but they're also often smeared into the canvas of a subtler and more spacious mix.  Even the Hipgnosis cover design is immediately recognizable, and adds to the album's canonical and almost unapproachable air — it also looks great, and emphasizes the attitude that's sometimes buried in the mixes.