Another World EP - Antony & the Johnsons

Another World EP

Antony & the Johnsons
Secretly Canadian Records.

SCQ Rating: 81%

The voice of Antony Hegarty, to my ears, has always captured the timbre of winter evenings. Dramatic yet restrained, androgynous but sultry, his quivering pipes are capable of soothing frosted windowpanes and blackened skies better than your rickety apartment heater. It was a voice seemingly designed for quiet rooms or amphitheatres, solitary days with your loneliness or lover. Then Hercules and Love Affair landed with otherworldly notions I hadn’t prepared for (Antony + Disco = Fantastic?) and immediately decontextualized Hegarty’s famous cabaret-leanings. As if that lightning bolt of neon-loud, late-seventies swagger never happened, Antony re-gathers with his Johnsons and undergoes a more subtle transformation in preparation of The Crying Light (early 2009’s much-anticipated follow-up to 2005’s I Am a Bird Now), prefaced here with the Another World EP.

The title track is a fitting though predictable first-single from the upcoming full-length, performed almost entirely by Antony on piano. It’s captivating in the same vein of melancholy as any cut from his Mercury-winning sophomore album, but given its own landscape thanks to a haunted forest of woodwinds that rarely threaten to swallow Antony’s restlessness. The typical A&tJ mood is lifted with ‘Crackagen’, a bright Parisian balcony-view with a piano arrangement spontaneous as post-war jazz. Antony’s transformation climaxes in the next surprise, ‘Shake That Devil’; which spends its first half acappella (save for some awesomely tense reverb) before a standard jazz beat jumps in, a squealing saxophone shows up, and Antony croons like it’s a dance-off at the Ritz. For that first minute and a half of tension, I must admit to have been expecting a more jarring, emotional peak than what ensued, but ‘Shake That Devil’ is a deserving centerpiece nonetheless, displaying a diverse platter of influences and talents.

Another World EP steps back into familiar territory with ‘Sing For Me’, a middle-child of sorts that finds itself dwarfed by its closest siblings; the aforementioned saxophone number and ‘Hope Mountain’, a closing track as grand as its title. Windchimes, in a gentler breeze than that which opens the disc, give way to a beautifully simple piano ode to desire and forgiveness. As if from that peak’s gust comes recorded whispers, manipulated and juxtasuposed like inaudible pillow-talk, before a somewhat pretentious troupe of horns close the disc (imagine King Arthur fanfare, or don’t).

Five songs, ranging from attractive to exquisite, at nineteen minutes is one hell of a tease, and well-played when it can suddenly make January 20th (The Crying Light’s release date) seem so much further than three months away. Still, Another World EP offers much for rabid, impatient fans to chew on, despite its brevity, and provides tantalizing glimpses at what transformation Antony might take come winter.

Hypnagogic States EP - The Cure

Hypnagogic States EP

The Cure
Geffen Records.

SCQ Rating: 37%

I need a minute to get this right. So the Cure, having been broadening out to a more youthful audience since their 2004 self-titled effort and collecting the fans of every imitating, generation-skipping indie band, decide to drop a remix EP featuring eternal emo-undergrads My Chemical Romance, AFI, and Fallout Boy. Let’s forget for a moment that these boys share nothing in common with The Cure musically – make-up and misconstrued understanding of The Cure’s relevance to Goth notwithstanding – and for the sake of argument, let’s assume they somehow gained an extraordinary breadth of skill on soundboards and remixing. Is this still a good idea?

For those emo-remixers, absolutely, what do they have to lose? For the Cure, it won’t make much difference beyond providing an unnecessary black eye for their discography. My primary squabble is that Hypnagogic States EP is under the Cure name, which after twelve albums and a billion tours, is a brand I thought I could trust. Had they issued this as a Geffen Presents: Hypnagogic States, The Cure Remixed, like The London Philharmonic Orchestra plays Pink Floyd, I wouldn’t be bothered. Yet under the Cure name, much of this material is as offensive as if all the people in your life that drive you mad showed up to your house unannounced, walked right in, and toyed with all your most precious belongings. This feels violating, to say the least.

Strangely, the disc opens promisingly – so long as you’re familiar with the product – with 30 Seconds to Mars’ remix of ‘The Only One’, giving their ecstatic first-single a slightly sinister edge before some drum-machines and overdubbed vocals combine with Smith’s yelping for an excellent chorus. It’s an impressive remix, keeping the merits of the original while adding flourishes that compliment and morph its tone and tempo. Unfortunately it’s immediately followed by Jade Puget’s (AFI) regrettable stab at ‘Freakshow’, resulting in dance music you’ll only hear at the sleaziest, cheapest, underage club, in 1997. Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance fares slightly better with a new-wave synth-athon that is, in the least, a propulsive alternative vision of ‘Sleep When I’m Dead’ while Fallout Boy merely act as Robert Smith’s imaginary backing-band, adding brisk percussion and lame rhythm guitar to the verses of ‘The Perfect Boy’, which generously leaves the original largely intact.

There’s an ‘Exploding Head Syndrome’ remix of all four singles from 65 Days of Static, which shifts between interesting and syndrome-inducing, but overall Hypnagogic States EP does more to deter 4:13 Dream’s hype than the four CD-singles that built its momentum. Of course, Robert Smith and the Cure are classy and turn pure evil into something sweet by surrendering all artist royalties to the International Red Cross, making my criticisms, as a result, look pathetically low-class. Seriously though, wouldn’t this EP be way more credible and buyable had the Cure taken all the B-sides from their four independent singles and tied them into a package? Now that’s something the Cure name belongs on.

Autumn Records 2008

Greetings from Lake Morey, Vermont USA!!!!


As this picture or any view outdoors should prove, we're knee-deep in the best Fall has to offer. Sepia-tinged foliage, cooler breezes... yes, good albums were made for this weather. So, as we dangle before November, I present a few selections for SCQ's Autumn Records; a few old favourites and two albums that, although released in the Summer of '08, sound better amid these moodier days and longer nights.

Also, feel free to check out SCQ on Last.fm by investigating the radio on the right of this homepage. I've yet to fully understand Last.fm's capabilities, so while SCQ's page is rather blank, feel free to offer any potential advice or add me as a friend (if you're a member yourself and understand it).

Read on and enjoy!!

Stay Positive - The Hold Steady (Autumn Records 2008)

Stay Positive

The Hold Steady
Vagrant Records.

SCQ Rating: 75%

I recall sitting in my ceramic-tiled bachelor apartment, killing the pre-dawn hours away till I was tired enough to sleep, and discovering The Hold Steady. As an exclusive member of a West-end skeleton crew who tore down boxes, stocked shelves and rarely caught daylight, their bar-band brew of heavy guitar riffs, shimmering piano and disaffected but clever lyrics fueled the midnight hours of my nights-off. That album, Boys and Girls in America, became SCQ’s #4 record of 2006 and was a regular party album through the fall. Returning with volume and ideas to spare, Stay Positive is increasingly assorted yet cautiously self-conscious; a record aware of its big shoes to fill.

Looking back, Boys and Girls in America was streamlined in several aspects: Craig Finn’s lyrical characters were edited or omitted, album-encompassing narratives were discarded in favour of general themes, and songs behaved like independent states, united in principle but disconnected from any strict doctrine. That record’s priorities – jaded youth, bad decisions, neglected religion, getting drunk/high – remain in abundance on Stay Positive, a record that narrates a ton of misadventures plus a murder or two. The opening couplet, ‘Construction Summer’ and ‘Sequestered in Memphis’, feel like the confetti-sprayed celebrations of old, but the Minneapolis boys quickly shift gears, offering the cabaret-fables of ‘One for the Cutters’ or the dirt-kicking, Zeppelin III chords of ‘Both Crosses’. Marking this album as moodier than its predecessor, these tracks effectively slow down that E-Street pulse without forsaking listener-interest or betraying their classic-rock rep. If Boys and Girls in America was a party mix-tape, Stay Positive should ideally soundtrack the morning and weekdays after.

The Hold Steady still rock though, sometimes heavier than we remembered like on the cutting riff of ‘Yeah Sapphire’ or ‘Slapped Actress’s kick-ass climax where the band surrenders to a sole piano, as Finn reflects “sometimes actresses get slapped, sometimes fake fights turn out bad”, before guitars snap back into action and a rising choir carries the album to sleep. The grit of these songs earn Stay Positive its own identity but occasionally draw lackluster comparisons: ‘Lord I’m Discouraged’ is a similar yet less emotive centerpiece than ‘First Night’ was, while nothing here holds a torch to the cascading momentum of ‘You Can Make Him Like You’.

In any case, the Hold Steady should be commended for branching out; Finn’s vocals are now full-on singing, sporadically sounding identical to the Headstones’ Hugh Dillon, while the band sounds as comfortable as ever. Pushing their signature sound into new bar-booths and alleyways, Stay Positive still captures the possibility of a great night out. However, it lacks some of the innocence and tension that made each dance or drink the start of a great story or the end of the world.

Lie Down in the Light - Bonnie "Prince" Billy (Autumn Records 2008)

Lie Down in the Light

Bonnie “Prince” Billy
Drag City Records.

SCQ Rating: 82%

Few songwriters in modern indie circles approach the prolific nature or musical dexterity of Will Oldham (AKA Bonnie “Prince” Billy, or a slew of other aliases). On pace with at least a record a year, Oldham is constantly reevaluating the ingredients that define folk from rock. Following up 2006’s The Letting Go is Lie Down in the Light; Oldham’s rootsiest effort yet, which channels front-porch country as often as his penchant for intimate folk.

Although released in the crest of summer, Lie Down in the Light’s themes, a near-paranormal blend of spirituality and darkness, are better-suited to Autumn’s severe skies. The reflective quality of ‘Willow Trees Bend’, a world-weary meditation backed by a field of crickets, or the pedal-steel gospel of ‘I’ll Be Glad’ present Oldham at his most introspective, with arrangements ruminating like dead leaves in the breeze. Such quietly uplifting numbers are empowered by an opposition, left nameless but at this critic’s suspicion is as old and assured as death itself, that lurks in the ominous moods of ‘You Remind Me of Something’ and ‘What’s Missing Is’. Representing occasional shadows over his rural landscape, these tracks give grace to both ends of Oldham’s spirituality; the fundamental joys of life (“There’s my brothers, my girlfriend, my mom and my dad, and there’s me, and that’s all there needs to be,” as recited in ‘Easy Does It’) and the watchful acknowledgement of death (“I’m disappearing into the wind,” he realizes in ‘Where’s the Puzzle?”).

Oldham’s seamless blend of folk, country and rock influences is further fleshed out by a wide palette of instruments: the electric piano and mute trumpet in ‘For Every Field There’s a Mole’, some awesome fiddle-accompaniment in ‘You Remind Me of Something’, plus a gang of organs, woodwinds, and electric guitar to assist the piano, acoustic and pedal-steels used throughout. Another welcome instrument on display is a female voice, most prominent in duets ‘So Everyone’ and ‘You Want that Picture’. Such an ample selection of instruments provide warmth and roundness to Lie Down in the Light, a folk record that never feels redundant.

For a time of year that many cultures respect and symbolize as the season of death, Autumn is when this album might strike the best chord, hushed but complex in its full-band performances. Putting the listener at peace while conjuring ancient spirits is a paradox only Bonnie “Prince” Billy seems confidently able to accomplish. Lie Down in the Light is among his most focused and eloquent.

Into the Blue Again - The Album Leaf (Autumn Records 2008)

Into the Blue Again

The Album Leaf
Subpop Records.

SCQ Rating: 72%

SCQ has a rather routine history of dealing with Album Leaf records; we politely blast them for failing to challenge us with anything semi-testing, than admit that it’s pretty and give it a gracious rating. Sure, Jimmy Lavalle isn’t out to reinvent the wheel – some might argue that he’s reshaped that same wheel several times over – but even so, titling your record Into the Blue Again is just an asshole move. Look Jimmy: we all understand that your previous outing, In a Safe Place, was your breakthrough; a collection of post-rock gems electronically refined and packaged in lovely blue artwork. Writing another album of similar melodies under the same formula (and with THAT title) should warrant the Album Leaf a failing grade in the creativity department. Yet here I go repeating history.

This is a solid follow-up, like-minded in tone and production but separate in its straight-forward approach to songwriting. Whereas In a Safe Place is famously noted for featuring the contribution of several Sigur Ros, Mum, Black Heart Procession and Amiina members, Into the Blue Again is a personal statement; a potential knee-jerk reaction to the attention gathered by such a communal crowd that finds Lavalle in charge of most instruments and production. He proves entirely capable of manning the boards alone, whether performing familiar rock-elegies like ‘Shine’ or attempting more modern-classical compositions with ‘Wishful Thinking’. Lavalle’s best work is still bordering on the indie-electronic side, which bolstered by Tel Aviv’s beats, results in the metropolitan rush of ‘Red Eye’ and the dew-sweet, emotional landscapes of ‘Broken Arrow’.

The downside to Lavalle going (almost) alone is that the variety once offered by his hired help is absent here, meaning we get an over-saturation of predictable Lavalle melodies and fewer sonic surprises. What has plagued my Album Leaf reviews in the past is ever-present here; that Into the Blue Again is beyond playing it safe. It’s lovely when it reaches that extra mile to be just that, but plain sterile the rest of the time. If this faceless quality to Album Leaf’s music has one universal benefit, it’s that you can contextualize it any way you see fit, and that said, I’ve spent a good deal of time with this record as contemplative background music. It’s an album worth revisiting during times of unrest but I’m stubborn in my belief that Lavalle is capable of an ambition greater than mere musak.

Back On Top - Van Morrison (Autumn Records 2008)

Back On Top

Van Morrison
Virgin Records.

SCQ Rating: 87%

Like James Taylor, Neil Young, Rod Stewart or countless others, Van Morrison was one of many singer-songwriters of the 70s faced with joining the corporate-thirsty clutches of 80s pop radio. Unlike some of his colleagues who ventured that path, Morrison continued his own mystic journey and found religion; a theme that would shadow most of his unpopular 80’s output. It wasn’t until 1995’s Days Like This and his work with The Chieftans that Van the Man found his groove again; a return-to-form that first peaks with 1999’s Back On Top.

Always one to pay tribute to his R&B heroes, Van kicks off with ‘Goin’ Down Geneva’, a standard blues tune that is immediately recognized for his vibrant vocal performance, before settling into the softer, autumnal pace of ‘The Philosopher’s Stone’. Back On Top, as a whole, is sequenced as such – relaxed, acoustic songs nestled into the upbeat material – and in conjunction with Van’s strong backing-band (veteran studio musicians, plus brass and strings) ensures no room for a dull moment. Best of all is the middle couplet: ‘When the Leaves Come Falling Down’ is a classic, a stunning ode to Autumn that manages to evoke Van’s best balladry and something Otis Redding could’ve pulled off, backed by ‘High Summer’, an uptempo harmonica-breezy track that captures all the lust and loss of August’s end.

Despite some newfound enthusiasm, Morrison’s contrary personality is still large and in charge, taking shots at those who attempt to connect his dots in ‘New Biography’ and dismantling his 80s spiritual leanings (that many fans blindly followed). These growing pains would be a drag if not for their catchy, appealing nature. Even in ‘Golden Autumn Day’, the record’s elegant finale, where Morrison recounts an attempted car-jacking that left him face-down on the concrete, his focus is on the splendor of the season, and “taking in the Indian Summer”. As he escapes his ordeal and the song’s dusk approaches, Van bows out, letting the guitar and drums fade so only the accompanying orchestra remains, like a dying sunset on his favourite season.

Jacksonville City Nights - Ryan Adams & the Cardinals (Autumn Records 2008)

Jacksonville City Nights

Ryan Adams & the Cardinals
Lost Highway Records.

SCQ Rating: 90%

Dear John,

Not a single note from this record belongs anywhere but in Autumn, that Autumn, when our street was cast in a month of harvest colours – an eternity by Fall’s clock – and I felt these songs kick up like dust from the front lawn. There wasn’t a whole lot else on my agenda, anyway; I’d work the weekdays in the concrete gutter of freight trucks and forklifts, then wander home beneath the glow of evening century trees. Most of all, I hung around waiting for you, sitting by the bay-window and collecting bottles like they were worth something to anyone else.

I don’t live there anymore, in case you ever wondered. Wherever I am now feels continents and persons removed from that street or the way I walked then. You can’t run from that, so who could bother trying. You only hope to find enough miles of distance from yourself that the two yous can live their lives without ever meeting again. Maybe that doesn’t add up to you, but I bet I’m still kicking somewhere round that red bungalow, cities away, listening to ‘Hard Way to Fall’s sad-choirboy chorus, and making myself sick. Still staring out at the roadside hills to the pedal-steel sighs of ‘Games’, still catching my reflection, long-haired and pale-faced to the slow pilgrimage of ‘Peaceful Valley’. When I hear these songs now I know that part of me’s still there waiting.

You know I could borrow my brother’s car, head down that barren highway and look in those windows. I could tap my wheel to ‘The Hardest Part’ or ‘Trains’ all the way through the small towns and wide farmland divides till I’m right there, on the drive, staring at the blackened windows you could’ve burnt out with me. Pull that dirty piano bench and pen a few of ‘Silver Bullets’ lonely keys that still play, find the back-shed empties that were whiskey to the veins of ‘My Heart is Broken’. Or turn out the light and listen for creaks in the house, aches in the walls, any step on the stairs that could’ve been you. But it’s ‘PA’ all over again, and the same news through the floorboards I always tried to ignore. You were gone.

I’d toss Jacksonville City Nights like the rest but lord it feels good; each song a separate rustling of leaves, each lyric a cut I’m proud to bare. You always said Love is Hell was your suicide letter, but it has nothing on this. Or me. We really lived for awhile, John. We really grew up together.

xo.

The Hawk is Howling - Mogwai

The Hawk is Howling

Mogwai
Matador Records.

SCQ Rating: 66%

Hype has never been good for Mogwai. Case in point: Mr. Beast, which was declared a masterpiece (by the band's management) before its release to middling reviews. Beyond its failure to live up to such a blistering, massive title, what was immediately evident with Mr. Beast and roundly panned was that the Scottish post-rock outfit was striving to compress Young Team-era explosions and sighs into four-minute intervals. That this exercise in economic songwriting succeeded more often than not is hardly the headline of choice for critics and fans who, ten years on, remain steadfast in their expectations of a Young Team II. The shadow of that debut is looming heavy on The Hawk is Howling, not only with Young Team's remaster issued mere months ago, but finding its producer, Andy Miller, at the helm for the first time since.

So Mogwai-followers the world over were likely surprised to read early reviews citing The Hawk is Howling as Happy Songs for Happy People II; the sequel to an album many viewed as Young Team's cousin, maybe three times removed. I can do one better. Consider the new record under this ancestral example: that at nearly sixty-five minutes and entirely instrumental, The Hawk is Howling is the great-grandfather of Mogwai's - and post-rock's - catalog. It's dense and brooding, it's sluggish yet occasionally volatile; like a man well past his prime, Mogwai's sixth album doesn't have much to say (senile song titles aside). Where Rock Action graced effortlessly between metal assaults and whispered balladry, or Happy Songs for Happy People proved itself independent of post-rock cliches, these ten songs reflect no dire state-of-the-union but, perhaps, Mogwai's least ambitious recording to date.

Even so, we're talking about Mogwai, the band accountable for a sound, distinctive yet ethereal, that no band could replicate without being declared rip-off artists. 'I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead' sets the tone with some lonely guitar and 'Auto-Rock'-esque piano that moves from haunting to epic at its own pace. With the gripping 'Batcat' hot on its heels, The Hawk is Howling, despite having a one-two punch insanely comparable to Mr. Beast's, looks posed to be Mogwai's next-best album.

Then... well, nothing really happens. There's no turning-point where momentum is suddenly dropped or the band reaches in vain for new direction. To make this lacking harder to translate, the record is surprisingly comprehensive, moving within a tight clan of moods with only 'The Sun Smells Too Loud' - an upbeat, good-vibe tune - standing out. It's one of the few attention-grabbing moments on record, and perhaps the keynote signifier of what's wrong here: production. Although headphones certainly help, The Hawk is Howling is a muddled affair, full of guitar squalls, organs and effects that, instead of weaving and interacting, sound like slabs of compressed noise. For every evocative track (the shimmering twilight to 'Kings Meadow', the gorgeous promenade of 'Thank You Space Expert'), there's a prolonged excursion into nowhere special ('I Love You, I'm Going to Blow Up Your School', 'Scotland's Shame') that, to Miller's credit, would still suffer from boring compositions regardless of an absentee producer. Why 'The Sun Smells Too Loud' might be a lantern for this critic's understanding lies not only in its ear-catching performance, but in the liner notes which state this as the only song recorded at their Castle of Doom studios, by longtime producer Tony Doogan. That's a difficult coincidence to rule out when the rest of the record, under Miller's care, sounds so washed-out.

Had Mogwai bought into those post-rock junkies still spinning Young Team and recycled that same quiet-loud formula instead of The Hawk is Howling's ruminative approach, they would be ushering in their career's second phase; that of a has-been act, content in the glory of past achievements. Instead, we hear the latest in a decade's worth of slow progressions - first, minimal dirges and electronic atmospheres, and now, a raw compromise of metal immensity and indie-romantic flexibility. Yes, Mogwai are still shifting in small artistic shuffles, but for the first time, they're letting old habits run the show. Long has post-rock been disparaged over its tired template, with a new Mogwai album managing to instill fresh blood into the discussion. Let The Hawk is Howling be a flood warning for our flagship band; these boys are treading water.

Why Are We Not Perfect EP - Jesu

Why Are We Not Perfect EP

Jesu
Hydrahead Records.

SCQ Rating: 74%

If it appears as though SCQ is suddenly Jesu-crazy, it's because Jesu, codename Justin Broadrick, is EP-crazy, following up his five releases in 2007 with another three in 2008. This, his third, finds the material he recorded for a split 7" with Eluvium last year re-issued on compact disc for the first time, supplemented with two alternative versions.

Although his hectic release schedule often sees older collaborations unveiled within weeks of brand new endevours, thereby skewing the Jesu timeline, Why Are We Not Perfect EP is a not-so-unexpected continuation of Broadrick's electronic infatuation, captured expertly in the Lifeline EP. Here, he digs deeper into the details of production, arguably spending more time tweaking knobs than fine-tuning arrangements. Gone are the meaty guitars that permeated 'Lifeline' or thrashed 'End of the Road', replaced instead with looped soundwaves or digitized guitar tones that make up 'Farewell's slowcore haze. That and its title track both feature Broadrick's treated vocals, floating into the ether but as well-suited to the material as ever, the latter song building on patient fuzz-chords before waking into full stretches of distorted guitar. The intended plodding of these tunes is refreshingly divided by 'Blind and Faithless', an instrumental track that picks up the pace and embraces My Bloody Valentine like no previous Jesu outing. Indeed, this EP is the inevitable culmination where Broadrick's muses and flirtations become realized accomplices to the Jesu sound, leaving one to guess whether any room remains for his twenty-plus years' experience in metal.

The two alternative versions (of 'Farewell' and the title track) feel unnecessary, marking merely cosmetic differences from their originals that, if nothing else, add to the feeling that Jesu has always been destined to end up a one-man studio experiment. Further exposing these arrangements as ambient dream-pop, where texture and mood are favoured to structure, the alternates fade out with little heartbeat at all. With the funereal pulse and cool synths to guide your trance-like state, Why Are We Not Perfect is a half-hour of chilly electro-touched rock that prepares us for winter.

Street Horrrsing - Fuck Buttons

Street Horrrsing

Fuck Buttons
DFA Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

As quickly as many people discount noise bands and repel the idea of even listening to one, that very dismissal is an obstacle greater than any musical preferences or expectations they may be standing by. To hear five minutes of a noise band and reject it is almost rhetorical; you need to listen beyond the parameters of mere volume, which is an overrated facet to the genre, and find the textures, mood and ambition that most people, whose collective reasoning is to tune out, usually miss. The key to finding heart in challenging records like this is just the opposite of quickly rejecting it; you've got to spend time with it. Take it on walks, spin it before your weekend starts – keep it personal. Not only because most people will roundly reject it on mention, but because you'll start finding yourself buried within its songs.

If you've tested and tried noise to the edge of your sanity and still walked away empty-handed, Street Horrrsing might be the record to rope you back in. This is noise incubated to the soundtrack of Ibiza trance – its bass fuzzed out, its details blurred into catatonic textures, vocals tinny but melodies untouched – and born of electronic feedback, effect-petals and warped keyboards. It's 'Bright Tomorrow', dazzling dance-rock walking a tight-rope of digital detritus and 'Race You To My Bedroom/Spirit Rise', an immovable slate of static and thunder, shifting back and forth.

For all this synthetic noise, it's difficult to explain how Fuck Buttons come off as tree-hugging gypsies, closer in vibe to Animal Collective than the chic-noir vibe packaged alongside most electronic acts. Maybe it's those cathartic, metal-screams that serve as a postscript for most tracks or enviro-friendly song titles but the cover-art is dead-on: Street Horrrsing is set to the rhythm of humanity, not machinery. Much of what propels this album infinitely forward is tribal drumming, often manipulated by electronic cut-ups but true to our humble beginnings. If this all sounds far-reaching and pretentious, listen to 'Ribs Out', a sort-of transition track that pits the listener deep in foreign jungles, amidst the screams and deep-drum slaps of undiscovered indigenous ceremonials. At some level, it's eyebrow-raising but mesmerizing nonetheless.

Whether in a state of motion or standstill, Street Horrrsing occupies a lot of aural space, magnifying everything you see and feel into something altogether greater and scarier than it really is. Such an intrepid use of drama threatens to turn inward on the album itself, as few of these compositions stray from the template of a single idea, which continually builds in texture and intensity. That's 'Okay, Let's Talk about Magic' in a nut-shell; a melody too basic, stubborn in its repetition, and although melodic hooks are not Fuck Buttons' main priority, some luster is lost by the eighth or ninth minute.

All the same, I won't go so far as to call out any of these six tracks as being regrettable or excludable. Each is part of a sonic whole, and appropriately, each song bleeds into the next, continually raising the epic scale until 'Colours Move' comes to its roaring close. You press play again and hear those twinkling keys (the same heard in the final seconds of the disc), so calm and soothing, like windchimes rustling before a storm. As 'Sweet Love for Planet Earth' rises, Street Horrrsing almost feels like a new record. And you appreciate its peace so much more, as if you've just been through a deafening trial of uncertainty, one so intensive, you hadn't the moment to mentally convince yourself there would be a time you could look back and breathe easy. But there it is – your chance to rest up – before being tossed into the noise again. With even the last track flowing back into the first, Street Horrrsing is like a wheel, constantly revolving on vaguely ecological impulses with the heart of a planet that sees creation and destruction as equal hands toward sonic evolution.

Selected Ambient Works 85-92 - Aphex Twin (Remastered)

Selected Ambient Works 85-92

Aphex Twin
R & S Records.

SCQ Rating: 75%

The overwhelming sensation apparent when hearing Richard D. James' now seminal Selected Ambient Works isn't casual enjoyment or pure elation. It's closer to bemusement – a complete lack of understanding – when I consider myself an ardent fan of electronica yet never heard this recording until its long-awaited 2008 remastering. Now part of my hesitation has always been the price-tag attached to both original records (Classics and Selected Ambient Works), although to be fair to us consumers, these remasters are indeed pricier. To boot, R & S offers no bonus tracks, no expanded artwork, no liner notes of any kind.

It reads like a rip-off, and would be if not for two important notes: Selected Ambient Works, in its original release, was in desperate need of remastering from the moment it was recorded, and secondly, fans of home-listening electronica need to hear how little their genre has truly evolved over the past twenty years. It's humbling, almost insulting, really, that Pantha Du Prince's This Bliss could stir such critical love in 2007 when early Aphex tunes, new to my ears, sound as innovative and accomplished (the two respective artists' aesthetic differences aside). Having found two copies of the original Selected Ambient Works abandoned to used bins (on the week of this remaster's release, no less), I can attest that its digital cleansing takes much of the credit for the record's contemporary sound. Even with the dated keyboard effect that opens 'Ageispolis', the song is a cunning mix of acid-jazz noodling and wintry soundscapes that could fit snugly onto the 2008 catalog of any electronic label.

What shook me most about this collection is how smooth it sounds as opposed to James' later work under the Aphex moniker, as though his career path has unraveled in reverse to most every other act. Instead of each release becoming increasingly coherent and polished, Selected Ambient Works (and its sequel, Ambient Works II) is likely the summit of his production in terms of pristine clarity; a peak visible years before James undertook even less conventional routes. Opener 'Xtal' is a glacial cut of dense beat patterns, gorgeous vocal loops and subtle keyboards layered overtop. The whole five minutes feel better suited to a Chill-Out mix, one admittedly of higher caliber than the average Thievery Corporation/Moby/Zero 7 collection, and it is singular in its breezy evocation, all of Selected Ambient Works runs on the same template: haunting keyboard melodies, beat programming that never shifts tempo, and several ideas dedicated to each track. No hints of the glitch-happy assaults from the Richard D. James album, and none of the monotony that plagued Drukqs is evident here. In many ways, this is Aphex Twin before Rick James, adolescent outsider, became Richard D. James.

Although the two tracks I've discussed and adore the most are pioneers for the current home-listening electronica scene, much of this material is better translated on the dancefloor than in an armchair. 'Heliosphan' anticipates the big-beat scene of the late 90s as if it was a hidden track on the Matrix soundtrack, while 'Schottkey 7th Path' can only be fully explored in the club; its subtle keys and overbearing repetition hard to appreciate on your home stereo. Despite its reputation, this album is hardly perfect; there are enough skeletal experiments to counter the fully-realized ones, which, running seventy-four minutes long, is to be expected for such groundbreaking work. Occasionally it wears thin, but never relies on any musical pillars we could call familiar.

Beyond the analog version's two dimensional sound, Selected Ambient Works 85-92 is essential, not only because it captures a teenage genius, resigned to his bedroom and struggling with the creation of a new genre – far removed from the mysterious, creepy Richard D. James of present day – but because this is revolutionary listening; a preview of tricks that would become cornerstones to everything from trance and hardcore to minimal electronica. It may be hard to find at a bargain, but Selected Ambient Works 85-92 is a crucial puzzle-piece in the history of its genre, and in my eyes, worth every penny.

German Electronica Review

Although established in 1999, my introduction to the world of German Electronica occurred post-house party in January of 2002, when I first heard Finally We Are No One by Mum. The attraction was instant, seeing as how deeply fascinated I was at the time by fellow-Icelanders Sigur Ros’ ( ) album; that record would introduce me to countless albums by countless likeminded artists through several unique rosters from several labels. The nationalities of these artists are diverse – as near as Jacksonville, Florida, as far as the Russian border – but the labels are all Germany-based.

Way back when, I began planning to write on this issue but was instead foiled and consumed by new releases. In the months to follow, many of the records I planned to include here were blogged independently. Here and now, SCQ has chosen its favourite labels, Morr Music and City Center Offices, to introduce this prominent sub-genre, plus a tiny appendix of others that SCQ have touched upon in the past. Read on and find your favourite… and for those on the fence between exploring and ignoring, I feel obliged to tell you that none of these records, or any I’ve yet heard, feature vocals sung in German. No unnecessary hang-ups there, then.

Inquire, comment, enjoy!

Lucky Cat - ISAN (Morr Music)

Lucky Cat

ISAN
Morr Music Records.

SCQ Rating: 74%

One of the best examples of Morr’s early dedication to and expansion of instrumental home-listening electronica, ISAN are the duo of Robin Saville and Antony Ryan, who offer a unique take on the genre by working exclusively with analog instruments. By using analog synthesizers and home-made percussion, ISAN craft delicate shades of micro electronica without going electronic at all. Using an idea made famous by the Postal Service, Saville and Ryan create their music continentally (they’ve never lived in the same European country) and trade ideas and drafts of songs through the internet.

The results are often superb. ‘Fueled’ is an eerie soundtrack to late winter evenings, tense yet somehow chilled-out. ‘Scraph’ momentarily breaks expectations with a lively break-beat, filled out by minor key melodies that resemble a less-ambitious Boards of Canada track. The majority, however, fit well to Lucky Cat’s cover-art: cuddly and cute. ‘Cutlery Favours’ is an opener that disguises nothing; an enjoyably honest and adorable track of subtle synth-shifts and old-world whirls that forecasts the rest of these tracks accurately.

Although Lucky Cat is certainly cohesive, its low-key intentions begin to wear thin and, at the very least, borders on being too isolating for regular rotation. This is a rare take on Morr Music’s early sound; replete with all the melody and loveliness of their trademark’s reputation, but crafted entirely without the instruments its genre relies on. A soft record for those hours you need company but only the kind that neither screams out nor expects a response.

Stars on the Wall - The Go Find (Morr Music)

Stars on the Wall

The Go Find
Morr Music Records.

SCQ Rating: 83%

Although Morr Music has always been credited with having a strong sense of vision and focus – namely that the entire label should release music that suits founder Thomas Morr's tastes – the German imprint has crawled steadily beyond the confines of electronica, and into electro-pop, what’s easily understood as ‘indie-tronica’, twee-pop and now bonefide pop music. One of the best examples of Morr’s recent transition is The Go Find, who follow up their glitchy debut Miami with an eleven song set closer in scope and sound to Fleetwood Mac or Death Cab for Cutie. More robust and full-blooded, Stars on the Wall oozes the sentiment of both artists’ best work, while managing to maintain its place among the Morr catalogue.

Hearing first single ‘Dictionary’ or the bass-heavy ‘Ice Cold Ice’ makes a good case for Stars on the Wall being another indie-tronic hybrid, and it’s a warranted impression. Yet the heart of this record is in its quieter, acoustic moments; the barren streets of ‘Downtown’, or the simple sweetness of ‘Monday Morning’. These entirely organic songs provide the balance against the more beat-infused tracks and when The Go Find put both talents into effect, we get a song like ‘New Year’; the ideal mix of organic instruments with Morr’s pristine, electronic production. Whether judged as comfort music or a new step in Morr’s evolution, Stars on the Wall has something for just about everyone.

Far Away Trains Passing By... - Ulrich Schnauss (City Center Offices)

Far Away Trains Passing By…

Ulrich Schnauss
City Center Offices Records.

SCQ Rating: 82%

If City Center Offices is known for a single masterpiece, it must be Ulrich Schnauss’ A Strangely Isolated Place. If CCO is known for two masterpieces, it must include Schnauss’ Far Away Trains Passing By…, the German’s debut album. Re-released internationally with a bonus disc in 2005, Far Away Trains Passing By… was an immediate success, a sweet blend of techno breakbeats laid-over gorgeous electronic soundscapes that wooed electronica fans everywhere.

Much of the record’s success and consequent criticism lies in its near new-age sentiments; an optimistic pleasantness to Schnauss’ melodies that is occasionally hard to ignore. ‘Knuddelmaus’ would then be Exhibit A, as it’s the first track, with its open-ended melody and expanses of shimmering keyboard effects fleshing it out. Luckily, Schnauss has a good ear for sentimental cheese, and never crosses the line between hand-through-open-window and aisle-three-shopping-mall soundtrack-fare. ‘Between Us and Them’ finds Schnauss in the groove, combining a slew of keyboard melodies with programmed beats that will get you to work on time, get your homework done… basically keep you motivated in work or play. The best couplet is certainly the final tracks, ‘Nobody’s Home’ and ‘Molfsee’; one arguably his first stab at writing a pop song, the other being equally arguable as his finest ambient track ever composed, respectively.

It’s a strong close, leaving listeners eager for more, and if you invested in the 2005 re-release, your wish is granted with an album’s worth of bonus material. Unlike the bonus tracks that accompany most re-issues which are usually recycled demos or lacklustre b-sides, Far Away Trains…’s second disc is nearly on par with the first. ‘Sunday Evening in Your Street’ opens with a descending synth-line and start-stop beats, before slowly expanding into a hypnotic composition while ‘Crazy For You’ is an ambient love-letter that expands into the shoegaze-borrowed territory that foreshadowed his sophomore classic A Strangely Isolated Place.

An excellent package that’ll do wonders on your MP3 player, this duel-disc effort should be the new template on how re-issues should be compiled. Schnauss writes predominantly feel-good music, and there’s nothing to apologize for when it’s as accomplished and impressive as his records are. For electronic purists, this is certainly the best place to start.

Pale Glitter - Miwon (City Center Offices)

Pale Glitter

Miwon
Towerblock/City Center Offices Records.

SCQ Rating: 80%

For those not in-the-know, Boomkat is perhaps the very best place to discover, listen and buy independent electronic music. However, don’t tease yourself with the expectation of finding many of the UK site’s releases in your local record store, as many of them, being on tiny labels from Europe, will either be increduously expensive or absent altogether. Such was my experience with Pale Glitter, a record I frequently visited Boomkat to listen to but waited a year to finally own. Its title-track, all dense-synth lines and relentless 4/4 beats, had me on first listen, and I could only hope the rest of Miwon’s debut was similarly spectacular.

What Pale Glitter suggests is that underground clubs beneath the glowing downtown of Berlin must all be spinning this record. Its mood wavers between celebratory and ominous but remains propulsive, even when drenched in ambient flourishes (‘Seraforma’) or shaken by industrial noise (‘Flakes’). Even the few cuts that lack a dancefloor beat are ideal for the night: ‘When Angels Travel’ is when whatever medicine you’re taking that night turns on you, leaving you unable to find your friends, or lost in a back-alley you don’t recall walking toward, while ‘Rain or Shine’ is that peaceful, forgotten walk home.

Miwon’s anonymity in indie-circles is most confounding when hearing Pale Glitter’s pop tracks; 7” single ‘Brother Mole’ and ‘No Need for Sanity’ are both vocal-drenched electro-pop tunes, proving Miwon capable of being playful and chilled-out when the BPMs slow down. A multifaceted dance record, Pale Glitter is a promising debut that never dulls or loses focus. Click here to check out Boomkat and taste some Berlin nightlife.

Appendix (German Electronica Review)

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SCQ's Appendix for German Electronica

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Morr Music Records:

Check out Electric President here.
Check out B. Fleischmann here.
Visit Morr Music here.


City Center Offices Records:

Check out Static here.
Visit City Center Offices here.


Shitkatapult/Bpitch Records:

Check out Ellen Allien here.
Check out Apparat here.
Visit Shitkatapult Records here.
Visit Bpitch Records here.

Quatermass Records:

Check out Music A.M. here.
Visit Quatermass Records here.