Call and Response EP - Memory Cassette

Call and Response EP

Memory Cassette
Acephale Records.

SCQ Rating: 86%

The choice of medium in music used to be about preferences. People either stood by the fuller sound of vinyl or the clear, compressed sound of compact disc, while 8-tracks and cassette tapes spiked and collapsed in popularity along the way. With the latest medium being a simple broadband connection, the internet has become a choice that divides listeners over costly RIAA laws, personal ethics and a crashcourse in general know-how. And despite online users’ ability to ruin release dates and slander each other at will, the internet is still arguably a force for good in the music world, shedding light on musicians and records on a scale that only a democracy of numbers could hoist up. Take Memory Cassette (AKA Weird Tapes, Memory Tapes, Dayve Hawk) for example; a New Jersey native who has fallen out of the blue with a slew of monikers and mystery releases. If the super-fresh beats of Call and ResponseEP don’t signal a ceasefire over the internet’s ethics, well… nothing will.

A lot of seminal acts have been name-dropped where Dayve Hawk is concerned, citing My Bloody Valentine, Boards of Canada and New Order among others, and while most of these comparisons fall flat, I heartily agree that Memory Cassette doesn’t sound like any one thing. ‘Last One Awake’ could be an early Caribou track finessed by a micro-house DJ, while ‘Surfin’ crosses M83 if he recorded for a glam-gone-right DFA. Then there’s the dramatic piano and synth-orchestra momentum of ‘Asleep at the Party’, which could belong to El Perro Del Mar although the female vocals are distorted and buried (yeah, OK – not unlike My Bloody Valentine). What keeps Memory Cassette from approaching mimicry is his lack of pretention, his clear admiration for melodious electronica that refuses grandiose arrangements or look-at-me devices. This practical yet exploratory approach brings me to Boards of Canada - Memory Cassette’s sole reasonable comparison point of the lot – which with ‘Body On the Water’ suggests the Scottish duo’s spacious psychedelia with airy keys and aquatic beats. And while Memory Cassette uses a wider palette and dynamics that would seem overt (not to mention downright shocking) on a BoC release, they are equally preoccupied with crafting then intersecting sounds. Although this EP runs a mere twelve minutes in length, the music speaks for itself.

As Memory Cassette (or any of Hawk’s other aliases) garners attention and more publications take note, this current aura of mystery surrounding his music will succumb to artist bios, interviews, all the nonsense that reeks of business. Right now, Call and Response EP is a brief but engaging slice of brilliant poptronica dropped from the infinite skies of the internet. No backstory, no press release… just stereophonic magic.

Science For the Living - Kyte

Science for the Living

Kyte
Kids/Erased Tapes Records.

SCQ Rating: 42%

Kyte’s sound is of the all-encompassing variety, borrowing M83’s lush electro and Sigur Ros’ orchestral prog-rock, then filtering these influences into a sentimentality only New Age can cross. And because I first heard last year’s self-titled release blasting through a record store’s well-equipped speakers, I fell victim to the English band’s shamelessly technical charms. Beneath those layers one could locate a given song’s structure, however contemplative and repetitive, and those compositional bones truly separated the best from Kyte’s rest. Every Kyte song sounds gorgeous – that’s part of the problem – but on songs like ‘Planet’ and ‘Secular Ventures’, the band seemed capable of breaking out from their delicate clicks and whirls and truly rocking. That occasional anticipation and subsequent satisfaction is lacking on Science For the Living, their quickly served sophomore effort.

Picking up where they left off, this follow-up dives headfirst into reverberating keys and abundant beds of positive energy (yes… New Age lingo belongs here), except this time around the songwriting is virtually abandoned. One of the more notable tracks, ‘The Lost Blood’, is distinguished first and foremost because they haven’t written it before, and finds the band taking a synthed-out choir chorus and pounding it with electro languor. What makes it further noteworthy is that Kyte’s songwriting is less shrouded in effects; a bold decision that brings about depressing realities. Indeed, ‘The Lost Blood’ acts like a cohesive blueprint of how Kyte writes songs:
Step 1 (approx. 10 minutes) – Write a song. Make sure the chorus is a few simple words that rhyme effortlessly, ensure all verses be sung to the pace and key of its lead melody. All songs should end the way they begin, forget dynamics.
Step 2 (approx. 6 weeks) – Mix the song. Throw everything at it that’ll stick (strings, keys, xylophone, oboe, woodwinds, purposeful Sigur Ros kick-drum, laptop beats, tape-loops, etc.). Exploit the shit out of those instruments. Bigger is always better.
And then repeat. When Kyte aren’t being as forthcoming with their song-structures, we receive the seemingly endless faux-epicness of ‘Creating Our Reality’, which as a microcosm of Science For the Living proves just how far beautiful sounds can take you. Not far enough.

While this follow-up doesn’t suggest much of an evolution, it does hint at a subtle switch of direction as Science For the Living moves further from guitar bombast, closer to atmospheric balladry. ‘Strangest Words and Pictures’ and ‘No One is Angry Just Afraid’ are two of the more apparent Ben Gibbard impressions I’ve heard by a signed artist, and while they’re admittedly among the better songs here, they don’t have a lot of competition. Where Kyte flirted with cutesiness in the past, they’ve committed to it now, issuing a collection that best belongs next to Dan Gibson’s Solitudes series. Now there’s some competition.

Phoenix Asteroid - Ecovillage

Phoenix Asteroid

Ecovillage
Darla Records.

SCQ Rating: 79%

Once every few months I ask myself what Ulrich Schnauss is going to do next. Will the Kiel, Germany native issue another set of gauzy shoegaze atmospherics as he did on 2007’s Goodbye or will he retreat from that record’s swelling abyss in favour of the cleaner electronic style present in his early work? It’s anyone’s guess… yet if Ulrich were to continue pining the shoegaze idolized by Ride and Slowdive, I’d wager it would sound like Phoenix Asteroid. A heady mix of pop songs stretched out and drowned in synths, Ecovillage’s debut evokes many of the same soaring sentiments that embrace Schnauss’ discography – albeit in more of a boy-band manner - while encountering some similar problems along the way.

As with any maximally produced recording, Phoenix Asteroid is a layered gauntlet that requires as much careful listening as it needs to be ignored. The studio efforts by duo Emil Holmstrom and Peter Wikstrom result in some serious ear candy, from the lush soundscapes of ‘Dawn Was Brand New’ to the sun-warped pop of ‘Here and Now’. These examples offer two distict poles to their songwriting, connected by production yet split by mood. Regardless of whether they’re undertaking an ambient track or fleshing out hazy pop hooks, Ecovillage excel at crafting the sound of elation, sometimes weightless, occasionally shackled. With a base-free beat in the hi-fi distance, ‘Arises From Ashes’ pushes its catchy vocal refrain and keyboard effects into the foreground while ‘Invitation’ amps up some percussive presence by instilling their wistful melodies with a dance-minded rhythm. It’s a foggy formula that works on some of their pop productions but obscures others, as the delicate ‘The Sun Will Shine On’ is nearly muddled into a sound-collage (unless you're equipped with headphones). So like Goodbye, Schnauss’ most recent outing, Phoenix Asteroid fights to find balance between setting jubilant shoegaze songs free and suffocating them in too many layers.

Fittingly, Judgement Day comes in the form of the title track, a mammoth sixteen-minute trip that, in all its possibilities, terrified me. Would this be an overzealous pop attempt, an unstructured ambient push, or a hybrid of both strengths? Thankfully it’s closest to the second option; a brilliant, longform piece of subtly shifting ambience that ebbs and flows with surprising clarity. Above a foundation of distant voice and synth, ‘Phoenix Asteroid’ also involves a soft horn, sporadic piano and violin accompaniment. To say that the title track vindicates Ecovillage beyond their occasional production-overload is an understatement. This is a crowning achievement worthy of Brian Eno’s admiration, and utmost proof that the duo from Sweden are well armed outside their dream-pop comfort zone. How Phoenix Asteroid is listened to, as a whole, will ultimately impact one’s enjoyment; some tracks demand careful attention, others stipulate being felt from the gut (or, in other words, the benefit of the doubt). No matter how it’s heard, one thing is for sure: this is an album of impressive ambition and mind-bending production. Working so many details into their dream-pop, Ecovillage really warrant that expensive pair of headphones you've been salivating over. Here's your excuse to pick them up.

Clubroot - Clubroot

Clubroot

Clubroot
Lo Dub Records.

SCQ Rating: 81%

There’s no skirting the comparison so I’ll just dive right in: Burial’s Untrue required approximately ten months to truly love. From the outset, I’d found multiple reasons to stick around; tracks as obvious as ‘Archangel’ and ‘Shell of Light' were integral to early listens yet underscored by the brilliant ambience of ‘In MacDonalds’. Compared to the wood-block percussion renowned to Burial’s more popular fare, ‘In MacDonalds’ is feather-light, a near segue of moody shadows that unites his sophomore as much as it captivated my newfound interest in UK’s garage scene. The rest was history: Untrue squeezed into SCQ’s Top Twenty of 2007, much to the credit of that seventh track, while paving the way for Clubroot. Do they sound similar? In essence, sure… but where Burial attemps to split his efforts between dancefloor-ready epics and short ambient standstills, Clubroot is resigned to expressing dubstep in its more atmospheric form. In other words, Clubroot is actually what I originally hoped Untrue would be.

Having cut his teeth in clubs over the past ten years (while issuing the occasional 12”), Clubroot could hardly be considered a forgery… and his allegiance to dubstep pays off as early as ‘Low Pressure Zone’; an establishing shot as barren but beautiful as this self-titled's cover-art. As downtempo beats shuffle along the wasteland of sexless vocals and a wavering keyboard effect, this opener emits all the sterile chill of Eno’s Music For Airports… if, you know, it was chalked out by Massive Attack. Such atmosphere guides this ten-song cycle through dancefloor-friendly cuts – the techno flirtations of ‘Lucid Dream’, the sleek dubstep of ‘Talisman’ – and exploratory near-triphop terrain (‘Serendipity Dub’). In this fluidity, Clubroot succeeds in out-gracing, if not out-shocking Burial’s catalog, smearing his crystalline compositions with slabs of sweet overcast instead of UK rave sweat. When Clubroot’s mood isn’t alley-bound in sheets of rainy despair, it’s wistful on ‘Dulcet’, where between ghostly swirls and ever-patient dub lies a toybox lullaby completely untouched. Clubroot may not gather the same flock of fans that celebrate Burial as dubstep’s fearless innovator – which I encourage, seeing as this producer shouldn’t be in anyone’s shadow - yet this debut announces itself as worthy of the same graces bestowed upon Untrue. If Clubroot has pioneered anything here, it’s a striking realization of what ‘In MacDonalds’ suggested; that dubstep has broken into the home-listening electronic sphere, and belongs.

So Long, Ruins! II

A few months ago, I disowned several albums that were, well, cramping my style. All they did was sit around my apartment and glare at me each time I passed them over. So Long, Ruins! thusly became my Serenity Now!; an occasion to casually tell them exactly what I think before selling them off. Interestingly enough, I still see most of my March castaways (just scroll down) lounging about Sonic Boom’s used bins and, each time I do, I feel a slight wave of justification.

A few sidenotes, while they’re on my mind: laptop composer and SCQ fave You Are My Symphonic is currently giving away his latest release, Afternoon Birds of Arima, for free on his website. Check it. Additionally, good friend and comedian-extraordinaire Shane Murphy is set to launch his website of hilarious mystery. Swing by. And for some slightly more professional SCQ-esque reviews, check:

Luminous Night by Six Organs of Admittance
&
Haunt the Upper Hallways by The Declining Winter

plus No Ripcord’s recent breakdown of Sweden’s mindblowing indie scene by David Coleman (seriously, there must be something in that country’s drinking water)...

Now So Long, Ruins II: a few albums I struggled with, the odd release I fooled myself into buying. In conjunction with these four write-ups, you’re welcome to peruse the previously posted reviews of other albums set to walk the plank here, here and here.

3 - Pole (So Long, Ruins! II)

3

Pole
-Scape Records.

SCQ Rating: 48%

One of many elusive electronic pioneers whose work is attached to just about everything, Pole was an artist I’d always planned to seek out. In the summer of 2007 as Sam the Record Man was closing its flagship Toronto store, the timing was as good as I could hope. So I scooped up 3 for a fraction of its original price and enjoyed a few solid weeks of letting its dubbed-out basslines and rickety clicks bounce around my brain. Of course, these were also my first weeks of trying a new anti-anxiety prescription; meaning, I could’ve been listening to a styrofoam cup scraping the concrete and been equally enthused.

While the opening couplet of ‘Silberfisch’ and ‘Taxi’ offer optimism with some multilayered dub exercises, things quickly get tedious and by the time ‘Klattern’ drips like outdoor rainwater, you’ll forget the stereo is on. As part of a trilogy, I’m told 3 is the most accessible and interesting, which makes me all the more certain that Pole’s early work is reserved for the most dedicated left-field dub fans... or anyone completely tripping.

You Don't Know (Ninja Cuts) - Various (So Long, Ruins! II)

You Don’t Know (Ninja Tune Compilation)

Various
Ninja Tunes.

SCQ Rating: 60%

As silly as it sounds, I purchased this Ninja Tunes compilation because I thought I knew what to expect. Missing all of my old favourites from DJ Food, Cinematic Orchestra and Kid Koala that were lost to ancient hard-drives, You Don’t Know seemed like a great way to reconnect my early admiration for the English label’s classic approach to downtempo and turntablism. What I didn’t expect: this compilation’s entire raison d’etre is to prove old fans like me wrong, hence its title: You Don’t Know (Ninja Cuts). Aha.

As someone who enjoyed Xen Cuts and Ninja Tunes: The Shadow Years, this new triple-disc is far less cohesive, trying to occupy left-field electronica, independent rap, dream-pop and drum-n-bass all at once. So unless you’re a blind superfan of the label itself, You Don’t Know will be pretty difficult to consume as a whole. As open-minded as I consider myself, this collection still forced me to go pillaging; the free-jazz atmospheres of Max & Harvey’s ‘Thieves’, Yppah’s vaguely shoegazey ‘Again With the Subtitles’, and John Mattias’ wintry folk on ‘Evermore’. Among the best highlights are Blockhead’s beautiful ‘Sunday Séance’, Loka’s moody ‘Beginningless’ and Bonobo’s dual tracks. Surprises aside, you can always rely on old favourites to deliver, such as Coldcut (who appears multiple times), Jaga (on the gorgeous ‘Swedenborgske Rom’), Mr. Scruff and Fog.

Beyond reminding me of my teenage years, the frequent rap songs are truly my biggest hindrance with You Don’t Know… although tracks by One Self, Zero Db, King Geedorah, and Roots Manuva are admirably fresh. That said, the real star of this convoluted collection is whoever did the art direction, as these three discs feature covers of awesome distinction; as natural and untouched as disc one has the pyramids cover, disc two advances into the cathedral image of spiritual awakening and disc three is a futurist’s utopia. An aesthetically beautiful, if musically uneven, listening experience but indeed a testament to how the famed triphop label has expanded its repertoire.

S/T - LCD Soundsystem (So Long, Ruins! II)

LCD Soundsystem

LCD Soundsystem
DFA Records.

SCQ Rating: 65%

Hipsters unite! Indeed, LCD Soundsystem’s full-length debut thrilled the pants off most critics and dance-rock ready fans and even though I thought the poorly named genre-hybrid had already been perfected with The Rapture’s debut two years earlier, I didn’t want to miss out. ‘Daft Punk is Playing in my House’ won me over instinctively, while more creative excursions like ‘Disco Infiltrator’ and ‘On Repeat’ gave this self-titled effort some contingency singles. Yet proceedings are worn down by variety – what should be a good thing – in the form of lazy post-punk (‘Movement’) and a lazier Beatles homage (‘Never As Tired As When I’m Waking Up’). Instead of flexing Murphy’s songwriting muscle, these black-sheep tracks reflect just how lost Murphy was between real authorship and cloying parody.

The second disc is a generous selection of previously available 7” and 12” cuts, including the unreasonably popular ‘Losing My Edge’ and the much better ‘Yr City’s a Sucker’. Still, the disc is nearly impossible to get through with club tracks that barely transform and varied versions of the same tracks. Giving this debut up would be easy had I realized that James Murphy’s ironic sensibilities were simply beyond me… but Sound of Silver was among my favourite albums of 2007, which makes me return to this double-album often with false hope. No more!

Flavour Has No Name - Static (So Long, Ruins! II)

Flavour Has No Name

Static
City Centre Offices.

SCQ Rating: 43%

A few years ago, I couldn’t have admitted this but here goes: I have a limit when it comes to German electronica. For years I consumed as much as I could find, acting as a completist for my favourite artists and basically going nuts on Boomkat. Well, if Flavour Has No Name stands for anything in my collection, it’s as a turning-point for an aging obsession and proof that Boomkat can take their hyperbole too far.

Compared to Hanno Leichtmann’s more recent Re: Talking About Memories, which experimented with live instrumentation to great effect, Flavour Has No Name is incredibly sterile. And while such cold production might work had Static sought to compose a work of longform mood-pieces, this is a pop record… one packed with melodies that fight to break Static’s frozen writer’s block. ‘Turn On, Switch Off’, for example, is an eloquently arranged track of romantic harp flourishes and shimmering beats yet its five plus minutes are wasted on Valerie Trebeljahr’s (of Mum) four-word refrains. Similarly static is ‘Inside Your Heaven’; while considered a classic by Boomkat, this opener extends through a syrupy, late-night R&B vibe without so much as a sudden turn or build-up. Even Flavour Has No Name’s better offerings, like ‘Ghost Boy’, which finds Ronald Lippok (of Tarwater) delivering rock-solid vocals, lacks any surprises to elevate it beyond its ruminating first minute. City Centre Offices continues to release wonderful work (check out Miwon’s latest, if you doubt it), but this album proves that even the best labels have its share of mediocre releases. So long, ruins!

Colour Codes - Red Box Recorder

Colour Codes

Red Box Recorder
Acroplane Records.

SCQ Rating: 84%

Every few years an electronic album arrives that shines a light upon its genre from a previously unseen angle, one that no one perceived but everyone flocks to once said focus is pointed out. Endtroducing… did that, Music Has the Right to Children too… and those artists responsible for lamping new directions inevitably carry the notoriety/burden of a pioneer for the rest of their careers. Between these prophetic arrivals we, as avid collectors, celebrate the best of our critical grayscale; records that cause a surge in the electronic scene whereby an artist puts their personal spin on breakthrough styles. Melody AM accomplished that, From Here We Go Sublime too; records that borrowed from the old and created something startlingly fresh. Adding another to that category, Acroplane proudly presents Red Box Recorder, whose sophomore album Colour Codes is as multilayered and jubilant as the best 2009 has to offer.

As far as comparisons go, Colour Code’s adventurism is most reminiscent of Four Tet’s Rounds; a kaleidoscope of moods that bounce between urban break-beats (‘Ghost Trio’), symphonic build-ups (‘Unabomber’) and house rhythms (‘Kid Cadmium’)… and that’s just the first three tracks. What holds it all together – as it did for Kieran Hebden - is an obsessive’s attention to texture and sequencing. The minimal techno beat which opens ‘Too Young to Rave’ undergoes several transformations – including ceasing altogether - before concluding as a driving, complex collision-point, while ‘Leonard’ is a contemplative IDM track, replete with distant percussion and padded keyboard melodies. As some vaguely dubstep-ish rhythms grab ‘In/Out’ by the throat and offer some urban grittiness, ‘The Leading Edge’ dives for the opposite end of the pool with a clubbing track that channels Gui Boratto’s meticulous approach to trance while accommodating all of Red Box Recorder’s previous excursions; the orchestral cut-ups, the inside-out beats, that evaporating choir of drones. And, being Colour Codes’ last track, this grand closure lends gravitas to a superb sequencing job, as the unnamed London-based artist shuffles his/her talents to ensure the disc never feels unbalanced. Truthfully, the title says it all; here’s a woven rainbow of elastic sounds and beats that displays a confidence uncommon for an artist with only one previous album to hoist.

Colour Codes, while an update on established styles, stands out as both technically audacious and deserving of some dedicated attention. Highlights with the crossover potential of ‘My R2 Unit’ and the delicate touch of ‘Up With the Bunting’ are among the better electronic tracks I’ve heard this year, and should be ambassadors for Red Box Recorder’s coming-out party. Much like Rounds, Colour Codes doesn’t aim to have a monolithic impact on electronica’s identity; it won’t change the genre but it might just change your life. In my experience, these personal albums rival the critic’s best.

Available FOR FREE on the incessantly surprising Acroplane label.

Around the Well - Iron and Wine

Around the Well

Iron and Wine
Sub Pop Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

I misread Our Endless Numbered Days, I can see that now. Arriving in the heart of my university days, that record tugged at each of my friend’s tear-ducts and instilled daily life with an emotional fragility I found somewhat hollow. Much of my opinion was compounded by Iron and Wine’s (AKA Sam Beam’s) contribution to the soundtrack of Garden State, a movie that likewise left my friends swooning to the act of navel-gazing. And although I found the whole trend transparent, I was also twenty-one… meaning that I spent a fair amount of time listening to Beam’s Postal Service cover in my room with the door shut. In the wake of The Shepherd’s Dog and, well, getting a bit older, I’ve grown a solid appreciation for Beam as a creative songwriter and (word has it) tremendous performer. So it’s with a bit of irony that, years too late, my first Iron and Wine record to review manages to include ‘Such Great Heights’, my personal Iron and Wine turning point.

Nevermind that ‘Sacred Vision’ is almost the same song but with his own lyrics; Around the Well isn’t supposed to be a well-planned follow-up to 2007’s The Shepherd’s Dog. Instead this double-disc collects Beam’s unreleased work from 2002 through 2007, in essence picking up after the loose ends of his whole career. The first disc occupies the hushed folk and country flavours of Beam’s most contemplative work, offering boy-meets-girl storytelling in ‘Hickory’ and last-farewell sentiments in ‘Dearest Forsaken’. Both finger-picking and vocals are as gentle and warm as the best of Our Endless Numbered Days, yet Beam continues to find new angles to rope listeners in with arrangements that render familiar feelings new again. Due to the nature of Beam’s selections, whereby disc one is comprised of raw, almost demo-style recordings, the first half of Around the Well suggests no clear highlights. As closely knit as these tracks are, disc one skirts homogeny by weaving into a mood-piece better suited for afternoon lazing than intensive listening.

Those pleasantly rustic compositions take on additional musicians and ambition – not to mention some technicolour sheen - for disc two, which amasses Beam’s studio outtakes. ‘Belated Promise Ring’, the first true highlight, bathes in Brian Deck’s acoustic-friendly production but also displays Beam’s oft-unmentioned talent for greater arrangements. Unlike the first disc’s one-man intimacy, Around the Well’s second half approaches The Shepherd’s Dog’s more intrinsic compositions on ‘No Moon’ and particularly ‘Serpent Charmer’, which menaces like foul play down by the riverside. Such imaginative storytelling felt quaint and controlled when backed by his lone guitar yet, when backed by a full band and expansive production, Beam’s narratives take a sinister angle that rules out casual listening.

Smartly separated between two discs, Around the Well justifies issuing work from both his early and more recent periods while providing us two wholly distinguished records to uncover. It took me a long time to listen to Iron and Wine as a songwriter as opposed to a singer and while I can still point out limitations in his style across these twenty-three tracks, I can’t find any errors in his craft. Even for a newcomer like myself, Around the Well is no stop-gap release… it’s simply too rich for that.

An Imaginary Country - Tim Hecker

An Imaginary Country

Tim Hecker
Kranky Records.

SCQ Rating: 75%

Walking out of Soundscapes tonight, I glanced up my favourite Annex side-street and felt its lamplights guide my eyes to a not-so-distant horizon of deep grey and black clouds. Weather reports had been promising a powerful storm all day, threatening with winds of 100km per hour and a potential tornado, and besides that, I could feel the electricity all around me, raising my hairs in anticipation. So between taking this dark road resting beneath endless century trees and taking the streetcar next to me, my choice should’ve been clear. Yet there are times I believe we’re forced to tempt danger for the sake of our curiosity, if only for a rare glimpse at something so rare and beautiful. As shadowed trees danced violently above me and flashed black under purple lightning, I began An Imaginary Country on my headphones and wandered the thunderous abyss.

Since its release this past February, critics have jumped at how Hecker’s compositions compliment his choice of title, insisting that this fluent song-cycle creates aural landscapes in uniform with the listener’s “imaginary country”. And it does – although, c’mon, that’s what quality ambient records do – on the coastal waves that resonate with Sylvain Chauveau frostiness on ‘Borderlands’ or the doom-laden overcast of ‘Paragon Point’, which builds with atonal keys that would frighten off M83. The Montreal-based artist even takes some bold steps toward accessibility on ‘Sea of Pulses’, an ambient collage affixed and propelled by some techno-ready bass loops which turns out damned near cinematic. It’s an album highlight that demonstrates Hecker’s willingness to breach his own still-life, yet it also leaves listeners breathless for another surprise… one which isn’t really on the way. Don’t kid yourself: An Imaginary Country, despite being Hecker’s most accessible work – is fraught with challenges and unfit for idyllic stargazing. ‘100 Years Ago’ and ‘200 Years Ago’, the duo which act as bookends, are confrontational pieces that suggest the chaotic unrest of tectonic plates colliding against one another, while ‘A Stop at the Chord Cascade’ literally implies the “stop”, rather than the preferred “chord cascade”, hardly moving amid a standstill of urgency. These tracks exemplify not only an ugliness in Hecker’s landscape but an enormity, and anyone who prefers an imaginary country of peace and comfort may be happier elsewhere. For me, standing beneath the recklessness of a summer storm, the soundtrack was spot-on.

About that foreboding sense of enormity, though: I find it compelling that An Imaginary Country was indeed nominated for the Polaris prize… Canada’s most prestigious award for independent music. This is an album of gorgeous solitude and uncertainty, a range that spans appropriately to the size and general doubt of Canada’s respective dimension and disposition. Whether an ambient record has an honest-to-god chance of winning the Polaris prize, I’m doubtful… but I'm proud for Tim Hecker (and Canadian electronic musicians as a whole) that An Imaginary Country was awarded a nomination of such distinction. If this album is cold, isolated and divisive at times, it’s thusly Canadian as well. I demand a recount.

Transfesa EP - Bovill

Transfesa EP

Bovill
Meanwhile… Records.

SCQ Rating: 80%

Bovill, who co-runs Meanwhile… Records, has the reputation of being a perfectionist. Releasing only the most pertinent compositions in the occasional EP – on a label, keep in mind, that is far from prolific – his work has taken a nearly mythological stance which fans eagerly devour and savour. With Transfesa EP, his second solo offering, the artist maintains a strict serving of four sparkling minimal techno that won’t argue any claims of perfectionism.

As someone who stepped into Detroit techno with Morgan Geist’s early rave-ups, it’s at once exciting and disbelieving to admit that Transfesa EP pretty much perfects the sub-genre. The title track announces itself like a glimmering metropolitan expressway, spiking echoed keys over deceptively sparse beats and eased by a distant bed of ambience. It’s a recipe that pervades this four-tracker, occasionally shifting focus from club bouncing (on the unwavering ‘Slinky’) to after-hour haze with ‘Trescore’, which, with its stretched synth and 4/4 beat, is reminiscent of Four Tet’s Ringer EP. And matching Bovill’s heady beats to atmospheres best comparable to those found on Junior Boys’ Last Exit, it’s frustrating to know that Transfesa EP will likely remain underground, cast off by indie-followers as too techno or, at surface level, synonymous with techno stereotypes.

On second thought, scratch that… and cherish this latest effort by Bovill with all the sanctity you uphold to pristine house music. Whether it receives its due recognition or not, Transfesa EP is utterly futurist; sterile and meticulous, it doesn’t try to evolve minimal techno so much as it articulates – without any filler, pretentiousness or flaws – what minimal techno sounds like at its absolute, perfectionist best.

The End 7" Single - Peasant

The End 7"

Peasant
Paper Garden Records.

SCQ Rating: 78%

Looking back, one of my greatest regrets of 2008 is missing Peasant’s beautiful debut, On the Ground, which I finally discovered this past spring. That full-length was loaded with bittersweet acoustic odes that orbited young songwriter Damien Derose’s soulful voice and, had I heard it earlier, On the Ground would’ve featured prominently on my Top Twenty Albums of 2008. Well, would’ve, could’ve. At least I’m listening now… and right in time; with Derose’s follow-up, Shady Retreat, arriving early 2010, Paper Garden Records has dropped a taste of what’s to come in the form of The End 7” single.

Although the singer-songwriter guild is chocked full of acoustic strum-sters, ‘The End’ – from its first notes – is undoubtedly Peasant, an ownership that proves how instinctive and powerful of a mark his debut left. Here Derose’s strums are countered by minor-key finger-picking, creating a warm unrest that allows the Doylestown native to inquire “Are you alone tonight?”. Another standstill romance, maybe, but where Derose once sang about moving on with ‘Those Days’, he’s now caught up in another polarized relationship, one that hardly reflects the closure of its title. With little time to reflect, we’re tossed into ‘Thinking’, a piano-led stream-of-conscious which picks up the pace and hugs reasoning like that of someone on the defensive. Man, have I missed this guy…

After those teases of Shady Retreat, this 7” closes with a live rendition of ‘The End’ courtesy of Daytrotter. While its arrangement doesn’t differ much from the studio version (albeit being stripped down), hearing Derose’s vocals should remind listeners how genuinely he carries these songs… like chips on his shoulder, arrows to his heart. As with the late Elliott Smith, Derose arms his compositions with a sense of place and narrative to feed his constant yet understated drama. Available September 1st through Paper Garden Records, this is something worth getting excited about. Catch up on Peasant here or pre-order this 7” here.

Watching Summer Wave On and Out

Guys and Gals,


Always catching up on reviews, I am, and while posting todays I thought an update was overdue.

First thing’s first, the winner of SCQ’s premier SKLTN Mix is the one and only CG, otherwise known as CG the Bee Gee or, in some preposterous cases, Corey. Congratulations… I am currently assembling a cache of tracks that, when whittled away, will hopefully be known as The Best Mix You’ve Ever Heard. Expect a few inquisitive emails in the meantime…

Considering I conducted the draw and picked CG’s name over two weeks ago, I planned to have the video of said event up in this post. Sadly, an unmentioned limitation to I-Movie or Youtube is that I can only upload EVENTS (meaning recordings that haven’t been edited). As such, the hour-plus I spent turning a tedious minute-and-a-half into a semi-entertaining thirty-four seconds was wasted. Anyone involved in the draw is welcome to swing by my house and see this topnotch, frustratingly un-postable video.

Alongside these new reviews of The Deep Dark Woods and Grizzly Bear, feel free to check out my recent No Ripcord reviews:

Harmony Handgrenade by Oxygen Ponies

&

Harmonium by The Soundcarriers

(The similarity between titles is coincidental…)

Enjoy the last of these summer days and nights and best wishes to everyone in August! As always, comments and suggestions are encouraged.

Love SCQ.

Winter Hours - The Deep Dark Woods

Winter Hours

The Deep Dark Woods
Black Hen Music.

SCQ Rating: 76%

When winter descends here in Canada, we’re confronted with enough snow and bitter cold to last several months. The southwestern corner of British Columbia usually gets off easiest, followed by - my hometown - the Niagara region, yet wherever you are and wherever I seem to move, there’s no escaping winter’s clutches. Among the bleakest places to hibernate must be Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, the hometown of The Deep Dark Woods, who have characterized this dark season with Winter Hours; an album that fights our cottage-fever with warm tones of traditional country and folk.

Their first single, ‘All the Money I Had is Gone’, bears the alt. country cross that Ryan Adams and Josh Ritter swing around, yet with Ryan Boldt’s emotive baritone and the bluegrass ensemble’s deft instrumentation (Burke Barlow, Chris Mason and Lucas Goetz round out guitar, bass and drum duties), the familiar chords sound entirely fresh. That single is no fluke, as Deep Dark Woods’ irresistible melancholy flows throughout, opening the disc with ‘Farewell’’s far-reaching choral, landing plum-outta-ideas on the barstool for ‘How Can I Try’ and the title track’s beautiful vocal harmonizing. Strange thing is, Winter Hours always seems more hopeful than depressed, entrenching the band’s slow acoustics with a cast of worthy musicians who give ‘As I Roved Out’ its cozy fiddle and ‘The Sun Never Shines’ its classic organ. These additional contributions do their fare share of chasing the snow-clouds away and ensure that Winter Hours can be easily spun front to back.

Of course, it helps that Deep Dark Woods understand you can’t spend your whole winter sulking indoors, as illustrated by the bluegrass-jaunt ‘Nancy’ and the folk-rock pulse of ‘Two Time Loser’. The protagonist of Winter Hours may be dead broke and lonely, but that shouldn’t stop him from the occasional night out. Released on the edge of spring, I delayed purchasing this release because my own seasonal depression decided a record of additional winter blues might push me over the edge. Little did I know how optimistic Winter Hours would be, treating their fair share of heartbreak and isolation with an “aw shucks” customary for their genre. When the frost creeps back over your front lawn (cause you know it will), spend some time with the Deep Dark Woods.

Veckatimest - Grizzly Bear

Veckatimest

Grizzly Bear
Warp Records.

SCQ Rating: 72%

To refute the greatness of Veckatimest at this late stage of the game - two months after its release - is tantamount to attention-seeking. I’m not immune to hype, nor am I a contrarian to public opinion in and of itself. Like you, dear reader, I was pummeled into heart-pounding anticipation well before the album came out, having swallowed every exclamation from the indie press and reserved some hard-earned dough for Grizzly Bear’s follow-up to 2006’s Yellow House. And lord knows I’ve tried: I even toured around Massachusetts - the state where Veckatimest Island is situated - with this album, trying to find some atmosphere in these twelve tunes of that inhospitable rock. Simply put, I am an individual who can admit when an album has failed to grip me in any way and, despite the multiple levels in which I appreciate this Brooklyn four-piece, Veckatimest is a good album catapulted by publicity.

Did he just say good?!? A painful non-descriptor, I know, but perfectly suitable for many of these songs; ‘Cheerleader’ which bounds softly on bass-lines and ‘Hold Still’ are both incapable of breaching their own loveliness with any contrast, any trigger. The lyrics of ‘Hold Still’ nearly sum up this aggravation, quoting “There isn’t anything left to try / Here we go again we’ll carry but then again / We couldn’t take this on / The story goes unformed / As if we never were there at all”. Now the last thing I’d wish is for each track to erupt in the way ‘I Live With You’ or ‘Southern Point’ does, yet much of Veckatimest seems to float by on mid-tempo excursions that end where they began, their circular progressions peppered with light prog flourishes. An unformed story, indeed. Blame for this sleepiness may rest on the band’s foremost asset, vocalist Ed Droste, whose timbre is pitch-perfect throughout but almost begs for compositions as soft and spongy as these. He may lack the guts for the heavier material but Droste’s vocals engage some of Veckatimest’s best songs; ‘Two Weeks’ wouldn’t be as magnificent in his absence and the man basically carries the twilight sparkle of ‘Foreground’. Besides, the band isn't exactly short on vocalists. One could say Grizzly Bear are moving towards easy-rock for the indie crowd with this release and it’s arguable. At the very least it’s more believable than rivaling Veckatimest against Merriweather Post Pavillion for album of the year. Please.

Yellow House was a cavernous, spectral record, with songs that ducked shadows (‘Easier’, ‘Knife’) as often as it projected enormity (the blistering climax of ‘On a Neck, On a Spit’, the endless soundscape of ‘Colorado’) and, while there is no shortage of excellent instrumentation on this new release, I feel no atmosphere at all. For all its hype, Veckatimest is a better advocate for showcasing a creative and multitalented band than being a tremendous album.