Spanish Moss And Total Loss - Shout Out Out Out Out (SUMMER ALBUMS 2012)

Spanish Moss And Total Loss

Shout Out Out Out Out

Normals Welcome Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

“We do play fun dance music, but the lyrical content is usually a little more dire. In terms of lyricism, it's always been important to me to be singing about things that are actually going on, and difficult for me, but I don't want the band to be a total bummer all the time.” – Nik Kozub, from Exclaim! interview. 

Everything from the band’s name down to the reputation of their catalog has seemingly hinged on a party ethic – their name elongated for mind-bending reveries, their fat beats primed for speakers aimed sloppily out of bedroom windows. At least that’s how I viewed the band and their loyal audience: as cosmic kids more interested in raising heartbeats per minute than delivering double-edged swords so sharp, they’re nearly bipolar. But that’s the clever prick of Spanish Moss And Total Loss, a carefully nuanced paradox that hides a lot of heartbreak behind the party exterior.

While Nik Kozub makes clear that the band’s matching of good vibes and sour lyrics has been a well-trodden approach, it’s arguably never been as addicting as on Spanish Moss And Total Loss. Of course it never hurts to have a barn-burning opener like “Now That I’ve Given Up Hope, I Feel Much Better” to launch things properly, its elastic bass and handclap rhythm thrown off-kilter by a haunted piano refrain. From that highlight, Shout Out Out Out Out dive into spaced-out kosmiche (“How Do I Maintain, Part 3”), vocoder-fed techno (“Wayward Satellite”) and saxophone-assisted electro-pop (“Never the Same Way Twice”) without betraying the emotional duality that creates their simmering conflict.

The Edmonton-based six-piece don’t repeat themselves although their template does show some dilution by the time “Knowing” lurches tepidly to a close. Preceding track “Lessons In Disappearing” anticipates that soft collapse, taking the swagger from late disco on an autopilot romp. One could argue that Spanish Moss And Total Loss bails on the party by its final third but, more than likely, the back-end’s busy synths provide an artifice to distract from the band’s declining emotional commitment. Maybe that numbness is an honest result after the party’s peak has passed, or who knows – maybe Shout Out Out Out Out are lessening their grip on the vocoder in order to express deeper analog-based chasms. 

Now That I've Given Up Hope, I Feel Much Better from aAron munson on Vimeo.

Clear Moon - Mount Eerie

Clear Moon

Mount Eerie

P.W. Elverum & Sun Ltd.

SCQ Rating: 75%

At a glimpse, Phil Elverum’s muse, particularly under his Mount Eerie guise, seems largely focused on one mountainous patch of the Pacific Northwest. Yet surprisingly, like an aging love letter to Anacortes, Washington, the last decade of Elverum’s career has adventured a series of artistic maneuvers that only the casual fan could consider genre-exercises. However distinctly the metal leanings of Wind’s Poem might grate against Lost Wisdom’s pared down folk, they all speak a language of isolation and lay out a treacherous sonic geography. This year’s Clear Moon not only relieves any fears brought on by 2010’s patchy odds-and-sods opus Song Islands Vol 2, it represents a triumph in his perpetual search for identity and home.

Featuring methodical acoustic strumming and deeply sparse percussion, “Through the Trees Pt 2” finds the Mount Eerie trademarks neatly aligned but pitted in a tonal overcast of dull synth-layers rumbling in the background. Narrative-wise, one might imagine Clear Moon unfolding similarly to 2003's Mount Eerie’s tale of a boy journeying toward the peak of his hometown; similarly, “Through the Trees Pt 2” carries a complacent calm that only hints at the desperate times laying in wait. Darkly psychedelic dirges like “The Place Lives” and the terrifying title track sit just past the horizon but the trip is tempered by compositions that keep Elverum an unpredictable songwriter. The rhythmic menacing of “House Shape” keeps the momentum fresh while the bombastic horn presence on “Lone Bell” shimmers with iridescent hope.

A wide-eyed look at the terrifying, looming and beautiful, Clear Moon showcases Phil Elverum’s vehicle in yet another atmospheric setting. It reads as bleak – and, make no mistake, it is – but there’s also something in the way Elverum arranges his darkness that latches onto listeners in a fun way. Those who take comfort in completely inhospitable records will roundly rejoice.

Portals - Eras

Portals

Eras

Tranzmundane Music / Bandcamp.

SCQ Rating: 74%

Without having lived it, I can still imagine a time when monochromatic album covers and illegible band names suggested the vast possibilities of independent music’s leftfield. Here in the Bandcamp era, however, they make pretty lousy bedfellows. It would be a dangerous first impression for a young artist to welcome even had Nathaniel Eras’ chosen sound not converged with the experimental electronic fringe that so many reclusive laptop artists now throw their names at. But for those of you who agree with the above sentiments and are, by deduction, modern cynics, take heed: Eras gives a jolt of brainy goodness to a scene ripe with talent but unerringly cloned over.

Beneath the industrial stomps that shellshock “Coma” and the saturated hiss spilling out of “Taxa” waits a convincing melodic sensibility, capable of reorganizing the initial clamoring into something deviously constructed but unique in mood. “Deus” reveals this strength early on Portals, infiltrating a distant choral with an assortment of toybox chimes and minimal touches of bass. “Abeo” and “Ares” continue uncovering Eras’ keen but quiet ear with subtle beat workouts that tonally call to mind Aphex Twin’s Drukqs. These simmering tracks belie the popular impulse to tack some sort of euphoric explosion at the close. It’s Eras’ restlessness, felt in nearly inaudible twists and turns, which prevents the record from getting sleepy.

Granted I’ve been neglecting to mention a half of Portals more menacing than meditative. “Eros” makes an early impression, strutting out in digitized arpeggios, swelling R & B basslines and a thick trip-hop beat. “Oath”, on the other hand, chants and squeals its way through an imaginary horror soundtrack that’s rather unnerving. Despite some uneasy listening, the latter example probably benefits Portals even if it isn’t exactly my cup of tea, providing traction and variety to counter the agitated beauty of the calmer highlights. In any case, Eras reaffirms why people should wander Bandcamp’s daunting universe. Because sometimes, you find life.

Aufheben - Brian Jonestown Massacre (No Ripcord Review)

Aufheben

Brian Jonestown Massacre

A Records.

No Ripcord Rating: 9

SCQ Rating: 87%

If there’s an obligatory mention regarding The Brian Jonestown Massacre more tired than references to the increasingly time-capsuled documentary Dig!, it’s the assertion that Anton Newcombe makes music 'to do drugs to'. The very straightforwardness of it almost screams like an English as Second Language translation, not to mention a backhanded compliment to records as stand-alone brilliant as Give It Back! and Bravery, Repetition and Noise. Newcombe may exude an addict’s smoky snarl when surfacing over the mesmerizingly lethargic “Gaz Hilarant” but he’s actually been sober for over two years, which all but highlights my main beef with “music to do drugs to”: namely, what music can’t you do drugs to? An album that’s too sedate? Or bands whose performances are too high-strung? Or are we really talking about whatever music you don’t like?

By that understanding, if Aufheben – a German word meaning “to lift up” as well as “to abolish” – warrants the “drug music” flair on its digi-pack sleeve, it’s because these eleven songs, under any influence or none, prove very likeable. Better integrating the world-music interests boasted on 2010’s Who Killed Sgt. Pepper? to BJM’s classic retro-futurist rock tendencies, Newcombe has constructed his most level-headed and consistently engaging record since …And This Is Our Music back in 2003. Of the methodical percussion, subtle 60s bass breakdowns and dreamy vibes floating overtop, “I Want to Hold Your Other Hand” validates Newcombe as a still convincing prodigy on days he’s disinterested in chaos and destruction. Disciplined songwriting echoes that good behaviour during other mid-tempo head-grooves like “The Clouds Are Lies” and “Stairway To the Best Party In the Universe”, the latter deserving a place in the batter’s box of any forthcoming BJM hits collection.

Don’t mistake Newcombe’s good behaviour for playing it safe though, as Aufheben teases these mellow, Krautrock tunes between scores of exotic string-arrangements and left-field instrumentals. Not terribly unlike Sgt. Pepper’s opener “Tempo 116.7”, “Panic In Babylon” sets the tone with an urgent drum-beat, Eastern horns and a palpable sense of good old-fashioned, old-world dread while “Face Down On the Moon” opts for a more meditative slice of lead flute and sitar harmonics. Match these instrumentals with “Viholliseni Maalla”, a potent dream-pop collaboration with vocalist Eliza Karmasalo, and Aufheben balances well the alien and expected poles of one stunning vista.

Perhaps more importantly, the tumultuous outfit’s thirteenth full-length makes a persuasive bid to those still clamoring over Dig! highlights, insisting that The Brian Jonestown Massacre have survived their own implosion. Having concreted a new core of top-notch musicians who can handle his personality (Spaceman 3’s Will Carruthers and BJM veteran Matt Hollywood), Newcombe’s forging ahead with Aufheben, making “out there” music reliant on no fan’s opinions, no record company’s advances and no instant magic from a ziplock bag. In other words, a brave new world.

(This review was originally published on No Ripcord...)

Exercises - CFCF

Exercises

CFCF

Paper Bag Records.

SCQ Rating: 81%

2009’s Continent felt at once out of time and perfectly suited to the year’s turning fashions: Balaeric, old school analog beats and even some hints of chill-wave. The concoction fit together like a twelve-piece puzzle but in the absence of an oversized ego, CFCF mastermind Michael Silver’s grab-bag of influences almost came off as too easy, too slick. Even now, the records best moments – arguably some of the best electronic gems heard in 2009 – battle against neighbouring songs that, while just as mature, seem to dilute Continent’s overall statement.

Michael Silver needed a bigger persona in order to pass off Continent’s ambitions as more than simple generosity. Here, on Exercises, the trappings of artistic ego fall in Silver’s favour. The 24-year-old beatsmith remains as veiled behind his compositions as before but with a tighter, low-key focus, this new album nails a special chemistry. Democratically split between Philip Glass styled piano explorations and Gamelan-tinged electronic pieces, Exercises works on a higher level emotionally than its predecessor – and in roughly half of the run-time.

Traces of his other influences remain, and he’s reached back into early synthesizer tones for a few early 80s documentary vibes, but ultimately beat-oriented tracks like “Exercise 2 (School)” and “Exercise 8 (Change)” borrow unique character from their cautious neighbours. Occupied by tidy piano chords and thick swathes of synth, “Exercise 1 (Entry)” and “Exercise 6 (December)” seem skybound, with Silver’s ivories descending like snowflakes against a black canvas. The mini-album’s sure to flex its approach enough to supply at least one stunner – “Exercise 5 (September)”, complete with subdued vocals and a gliding momentum – but it acts less like a dancefloor hit than a euphoric centerpiece to an otherwise somber walk through town. 

Egomodal EP - Max Cooper

Egomodal EP

Max Cooper

Traum Records.

SCQ Rating: 76%

Note: this cover art boasts the vinyl track-listing, not the digital version that features eight tracks.

In anticipation of IglooFest, an annual, outdoor dance-party that takes place amid Montreal’s subzero temperatures, I haphazardly downloaded a pair of Max Cooper EPs for the sake of familiarizing myself. What seemed like a simple means to an end grew exponentially with each listen, and by the time I watched Cooper perform over a cloud of icy perspiration a week later, I’d breached a strain of techno that has always felt too inclusive for my liking.

Egomodal EP does belong to a different set of electronic ears – listeners who don’t pay much mind to the more indie-leaning “home-listening electronica”, I suspect – and is organized for uninterrupted momentum. For an hour-long EP, that means almost half of that span belongs to remixes, which sound a lot like Cooper’s originals despite a few extra gears working on overdrive. As for the main draw, Cooper’s five new tracks further the melodically charged vein of Expressions EP into increasingly complex arrangements. Most recognizable of that 2010 release is “Autumn Haze”, a track of crystalline blips that bounce intrepidly over a subtly nostalgic string backing. The challenging “Epitaphy” and “Micron” whirl around devious rhythm loops and haunting atmospheres whereas “Simplexity” takes the experimental route, flirting with industrial and dubstep flavours that muddle Cooper’s primary talents. Although easily one of the composer’s most generous outings, Egomodal EP is also rather patchy, sliding an assortment of remixes that prolong if not protect the record’s playability. (Granted, Rone’s cosmic take on “Simplexity” completely outshines the original.)

Regardless, here’s an artist who, over a dozen releases in, still hasn’t offered a full-length debut and really, who needs one? As long as each year finds another Max Cooper EP or maxi-single that reasserts his peculiar brand of techno, armchair appreciators and dancefloor purists can continue to coexist splendidly.

Max Cooper will be returning to North American shores for Decibel Festival, happening September 26^th through 30^th.