Patrick O'Hearn - Indigo (1991)

Another night, another tasty morsel for The Widening Eye. Frank Zappa bassist-turned-Ambient/New Age composer Patrick O' Hearn has produced an extensive and rather intriguing discography since the mid 80's, bridging Steve Roach-esque soundscaping to classical minimalistic ideas and early jungle-esque arrangements whilst continuing to evolve with the times. Kind of like a one man Tangerine Dream with a bit of cold vodka somewhere in the mix.

Serving as something of a median within the man's vast body of work, 1991's Indigo is also Patrick's most accomplished masterpiece and also functions as a transitional product between two distinct decades of output. The keyboard sounds are less Harold Budd and more modernly varied, spiced up in various places by more organic instrumentation such as trumpets ['Upon the Wings of Night'], saxophones, guitars and piano ['The Ringmaster's Dream'].

If you want to experience a waking dream in vivid detail, I don't think you'll find a better album than this one. These songs are so gorgeous that you wonder if Patrick O' Hearn isn't human at all, but some netherborne musician who has emerged out of time to bring enlightenment to the lower planes. Because seriously, one's soul might evaporate like morning mist through the confines of their flesh with bliss like this on repeat.

Listen Here - "Coba"

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Darling Cruel - Passion Crimes (1989)

Yet another strange album from a very strange guy. Once upon a time in the 80's, there was a young gun named Gregory Darling whose musical talent fell into the hands of one Vicki Hamilton, the legendary lass who managed & signed both Poison and Guns N' Roses to annoying stardom at the height of the hair metal epoch. Unfortunately, despite recording 1989's avant-gardish Passion Crimes and hitting it big with MTV while under her wing, Darling was dropped from his label and has since then basically vanished to the point that even the underground people don't know where he is. He joined some punk band for awhile in the 90's, but after that? Who the fuck knows.

At the very least, however, we do have this sole album that The Man Who Never Was released, and it is indeed quite a whopper. Equal parts The Cure, The Church, Peter Hamill and pompish 80's arena rock, this is one of those weird yet wonderfully distinctive recordings that doesn't really sound like it fits into any particular genre despite its melodious and often quite inventive rock-based set. Flutes, sax and carnival instruments seem to pop up just as often as a heavy metal guitar solo, and every song sounds like a myriad of ideas and nuances to serve as colorful vehicles for the torment behind these lyrics. Darling's voice is raspy, viscous and somehow extremely fragile despite its range, and doesn't sound quite like anyone else. As for some of these songs...since when did Middle Eastern jazz-fusion bands cover The Cars? ['Weight On My Shoulders']. And why are the Cocteau Twins writing songs for Motley Crue?  ['Love Child']. BLARGH!!!!!

So yep, this is one amazing fuckin' record. Makes me wonder what Darling would have done next if he hadn't gotten the boot. We can only wonder...

Listen Here - "Weight On My Shoulders"

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Barry White - Put Me In Your Mix (1991)

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say Barry White (when he was alive) probably got more pussy in a single day than your entire family line got in an entire lifetime of roofies and shitty pick-up lines. I mean, just look at that smug face of his on the cover this fantastic, underrated little 1991 release Put Me In Your Mix - if the girls weren't prostating to a glimpse of those pearly whites, they'd do it when his voice comes out of their bedroom speakers. Or maybe it's the purple robe....? *shrug*

Barry White is prime examplage of an artist who really never required experimentation or innovation to kick the ass out of most of his competition -- all the motherfucker needed was a nice beat, some orchestral samples and the willpower to talk into a microphone for 6 minutes and he'd go Platinum faster than you could say "Sex On Legs". Fuckin' lucky bastard...I want that talent!

Anyway, tonight's offering is special as any of the Sultan of Soul's classic 70's material. The smooth yet sensual elements that made White a Soul god from the late 60's through the 80's are still alive and kicking, but now tempered in places by reggae ['Volare] and some New Jack Swing elements ['Sho' You Right', 'For Real Chill'] to edge his established formula into more interesting territory for a new generation of potential listeners, which works out to a T in most cases. But hell, when he can still write and perform a jam as moving as 'Love Will Find Us' with this kind of ease, who cares about the details? White's voice is like hearing the stars being bitch-slapped across the endless night so the cosmic waves can flow a little cleaner through your mind.

Self-evident and damned powerful in the ability to set a mood long after his death, you can't go wrong with an album from Barry White, and Put Me In Your Mix is certainly one of the best.

Listen Here - "For Real Chill"

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Universal Totem Orchestra - The Magus (2008)

Universal Totem Orchestra are a rare breed indeed - Italian, yet Zeuhl. Much like bands such as Magma or Univers Zero, this band plays avant-rock with touched by opera, jazz and dozens of other fascinating sonic flagellates to flesh out divine excursions and choral coalitions. What distinguishes this bunch even more than the genre they choose to indulge in, however, is a very strong grasp of melody and romance within their performances compared to the freakish and generally angular atonal tendencies of other Zeuhl bands. The vocals and use of sax, for example, is definitely different from most of their competition. The result? A unique, yet transcendental 6-track listening experience. Especially for those of you who have a jazz fan buried deep inside your flab.

Sorry about the lack of postage on Turkey day by the way -- I was probably coma'd due to massive quantities of delicious munchies.

Listen Here - "Les Plantes Magique"

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The Rippingtons - Curves Ahead (1991)

You know that good schmaltz you sometimes catch in the wee hours of the morning when you flip on The Weather Channel to check for tornadoes? Interim sonic interludes between forecasts packed with slick 80's guitar, gellin' keyboard textures, funky bass, etc? Today's sacrifice to the blog altar is such a record of chilled out muzak, and one of my favorite albums of all time when all is said and done.

The Rippingtons were (and stilla re) the undisputed despots of smooth jazz from the late 80's onward and specialize in that sort of laid-back sound that nobody seems to quite nail but them. And moreover, Curves Ahead is their 1991 masterpiece that leaves 99.9% of the rest of the smooth jazz wasteland in the dust. It's atmospheric beyond belief and can deflate you faster than a muscle relaxant up the jugular, which makes it ideal for those days where the clouds, coffee and a morning drive seem more fulfilling than whatever your friends are bitching about on Facebook or Twitter.

I know the concept of truly awesome smooth jazz is hard for some of you to swallow, but give it a chance will ya? Open your minds!

Listen Here - "Curves Ahead"

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Simon Finn - Pass The Distance (1970)

An obscure English bard of trippy renown for the recording of this 1970 opus, Simon Finn spins claustrophobic yarns of places out of time ['The Courtyard', 'Jerusalem'] in passionate mad-prophet swagger to the thrum of an acoustic guitar, a sitar, skittering percussion and more to an assortment of beautiful, distorted compositions. His singing is haunted like the distant desert and atonal like a faceless wind, and I don't want to be where he might be. I doubt it's a happy place.

This is truly fine music for drifting in the dark, unsure of where you'll be tomorrow. Maybe it won't even be on Earth. Hell, you may not even be alive. You never really know...do you?

Listen Here - "Fades (Pass The Distance)"

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Old - Formula (1995)

Probably the weirdest Industrial album ever made. Old (Old Lady Drivers) were originally a grindcore band started by James Plotkin, who would later come to fame from his work with doom metal band Khanate. However, by the time they got to this 1995 final album, the group's sound had evolved into something like a cross between mid 80's Cure and a Nine Inch Nails cover band with fantasies about being some kind of shoegazey acid house ensemble. Or maybe they just really like Devin Townsend. Zounds!

Personally, I reserve my love for that seemingly LSD-fueled insanity that went into these tracks. 'Last Look' is 10 minute of House-influenced-reverb-drenched melancholy that grows more and more out of sync as the seconds wind down to delicious oblivion, while 'Under Glass' is Cocteau Twins gone techno in your daddy's pool hall. I find the production quite attractive too: its very layered, not unlike the work of Babyface with his various New Jack Swing collaborations or John Punter with Strangeways back in the late 80's.

Looking for something weird, slick, dreamy and grindcored to take your mind off the bad part of your day? Old are just what the doctor ordered.

Listen Here - "Rid"


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