Easily cutting the best album to come out this year thus far, Destroyer is an interesting project from Dan Bejar (of The New Pornographers fame) that blends post-punkish Indie-pop sensibility with that dreamy jazz quality that marked the delicious commercial efforts of such 80's acts as Swing Out Sister and Prefab Sprout, with results that can only be described as magical.
Atmosphere reigns supreme here to these ears, groove-leaden basslines punctured teeth-and-all with horns and darkling sax, with keyboards occasionally manifesting before pulsating down south of the mix once more. I can see how the typical alternative listener wouldn't think much of any of this - jazz pop anything, "Indie" or not, has never exactly been high on this generation's radar.
People who don't let "old people music influences" get in the way of a good time will see this for the treasure that it is though: a contemporary slice of classy, laidback rock that should dissuade those thinking indie-rock has run out of ideas.
I can't say much for the opinions of those who consider themselves well-informed, but Secede is probably my single favorite individual in the IDM/ambient-electronic spectrum and in a class all his own. He doesn't cut releases very often, but when something does rear it's head it tends to blow most of its competition out of the water, such as the tremendously splendid Tryshasla from 2005.
Bye Bye Gridlock Traffic is this musical magician's 2003 debut, thirteen exercises in organic, nearly unbelievably deep soundscapes that never cease to relax nor entertain. Favorites would include the glitchy phantamagoria of 'Crave & Fall', 'Return To Island CX' with its sparkling keyboards that morphs about a quarater of the way through into some kind of world-trip hop beatfest, and firmament treading 'Outran', a dream amidst many brilliant visions lost in the night sky.
To be blunt, what gets me the most at the end of the day is how Secede succeeds, effortlessly at times, in holding onto a certain human touch to his songwriting, whereas various IDM superstars making their names through Pitchfork and the like appear to struggle violently to obtain a semblance of that very same thing. Hell, even half a trip in this record makes it so I can't even remember what I enjoyed in his more well-known competition to begin with. Scary!
If there has ever been a musician that I would consider to be a boneified personal musical idol, it would probably be Bill Laswell. He's done it all, seen it all, and as a bass player is easily on par with the best that the funk, jazz and any musical world you can think of have to offer.
Before he would work with such established legends like Buckethead and Iggy Pop though, Laswell was part of many an interesting project as a young man growing up in the 70's and 80's, polishing his talents and eventually hooking up in New York city with a bunch of people who would go on to form a great little No-Wave band called Material, with 1981's Memory Serves being their debut shot at the big leagues that be.
But man, what a strange record this is, even considering the scene it was birthed from. It's nothing like the punk-jazz or distorted classically influenced noise rock of their Brian Eno-collected peers. Rather, Memory Serves is comparable to a freakish nightmare where Talking Heads and Magma have a little troll together after a night in the sack without birth control, an embittered progeny which subsequently grows up on a steady diet of Henry Cow and Parliament and decides to write sonatas for a living instead of going to medical school to to get his P.h.d in Psychiatry.
Amusingly enough, the funk influence is a force to be reckoned with: even such exercises in dissonance like 'Square Dance' and sludge kickin' 'Silent Land' can't fully suppress the primal groove which blazes through these songs like a leyline.
However, Memory Serves is at it's most enchanting when the rhythm of the heat manages to work in complete balance with whatever off-kilter arrangement is at play, such as the playfully agressive sax boppin' title track and New Order bounciness that seems to bleed through 'Conform To The Rhythm' from its opening contortions to a fine, percussive fadeout that hints at something beyond its runtime. Where might it have gone if given another minute? Or ten even?
For those will to take a leap into Bill Laswell's bone-crunchingly colossal discography, this might be a great place to begin one's voyage. For everyone else though, it's just a messy fun early 80's slice of experimentation to get lost in for an evening or two.
Regardless of what camp of listener you fall under, though, you'll most certainly find it quality.
Eons ago, I used to hear endless praise for this group all throughout my high school years, but it wasn't until I picked up this Helloween offshoot's debut that I realized that, for once, a whole lot of people can't be wrong. Grease up Stratovarius with a bit of old school thrash crunch (Metallica, Celtic Frost, etc.) and you end up with skittering little hellraisers like 'Bleeding Eyes' and 'Crawling From Hell', but thankfully the band isn't a one trick jackass -- suckers for the melodic sensibilities of early Whitesnake and their contemporaries have plenty to cut their teeth on with the balladic 'Into The Light' while a song like 'When Love Comes Close' is comparable to any of Blind Guardian's best acoustic moments. Roland Grapow's shredding is something to behold at times -- he never gives into the temptation to wank over vocals of veteran Jorn Lande, whose performance throughout the album is truly an inspired one and the main reason you'd want to hear these songs in the first place.
In my opinion, Masterplan is everything their name promises -- a focal point of melodic sensibilities from power metal past and present, while still retaining enough individual identity and charisma to cast it's own shadow against those very same influences. But even if you don't care about any of that shit, I can promise that this is an excellent balls-to-the-wall metal record which the band has (unfortunately) been unable to surpass on subsequent releases. Highly recommended.
Toby Driver is a total fuckin' beast. Along with Kayo Dot and his past work with Maudlin of the Well, his side project Tartar Lamb is drone-jazz el perfecto...with this record being both extremely recent and particularly classy in its approach to the style.
Buckle in bitches: you are in for a helluva ride. It's a four part suite with your names written all over it's decrepit abdomen.
Experimental jazz's coolest cat has never exactly been known for being accessible, but he comes mighty damn close on 1978's Lanquidity (reissued a few years back after decades of scarcity), which features a host of excellent Arkestra regulars as well as trumpeter king Eddie Gale....and anything Gale has worked with is top class, period. The sun god himself also casts his hand at keyboarding, and the results are definitely worth paying attention to!
Basically, this is Sun Ra's typically insane yet gorgeous interpretation of the whole jazz-fusion scene that had been made famous over the decade by the efforts of Miles Davis, Soft Machine, Return To Forever, etc. It's also the finest jazz record to come out in the latter half of the 70's by a country mile. It doesn't blaze quite as fervently as something like, say The Inner Mounting Flame...but boy does it carry far.
Have a long night ahead of you? Don't be afraid to jazz it up with this!
My favorite side project of bassist/producer prodigy Bill Laswell, Sacred System is an experiment in dub, Miles Davisonian jazz fusion and a fair amount of le tribal electronique to give this delicious muffin that extra frosted kick, with results that aren't anything less than stellar when you give the seven tracks here the time they deserve.
In summation, this is ideal zoning/meditative tuneage that may even stimulate your mind, and you could do a helluva lot worse than getting lost in something as snazzy as this.
