This Is Book's Music

Bad News From Houston consists of Thollem McDonas and John Dieterich, who may be known for working together in another project, but this is a new project. Even if you know them for their own works, In The Valley Of The Cloud Builder (Post-Consumer) is a beast with its own set of underwear, and it’s ready to party with the living room light on.

The work on this album is on the experimental and avant-garde side of things, where one may find it hard to determine where things begin, end, or where one piece may cut off somewhere, only to continue (or not) a few tracks down the album. Some pieces may begin with nothing but the sound of a piano, but that piano may be run through an echo chamber. Then that piano may be prepared (or not), which will lead it somewhere you didn’t expect it. In a piece like “Changery” that involves a guitar being strummed in different intervals (sometimes sounding like someone pounding a piano with their hands), one may find themselves getting lost within, or running away from it in fear. In “Mile High Desert Meadow Tea”, it sounds like a microphone was placed in a washing machine and someone is creating off-tempo funk on it. Or someone decided to throw a tennis ball inside of a dryer and have the resulting sounds recorded.

In The Valley Of The Cloud Builder is twisted and quite trippy, but is a journey that will be worth a listen or two, before committing yourself to listen to it many times more.

(In The Valley Of The Cloud Builder can be pre-ordered directly from Post-Consumer Records.)

After releasing a number of projects in the last five years, Eleh is about to release a box set compiling three of the albums that came out at the time. Taiga Records have released a 3LP box set called Homage that includes three albums:

Homage to the Square Wave (2008)
…Sine Wave (2009)
…Pointed Waveforms (2012)

These three albums initially went out of print quickly but with the help of Taiga, they are presented to the public once again, this time in box set form. Each record was pressed on 200g virgin vinyl, are housed in silkscreen jackets, and are packaged in a nice and rigid white slipcase. Each copy is hand-numbered, and only 800 copies were pressed.

For audio samples of the music, click to TaigaRecords.com. Homage will be released on April 2nd.

The first thing that made me want to hear this was the illustration of a living and breathing being coming out of a plant. What would I be getting myself into if I listened? Botanist is a one-man band operation from San Francisco, and the concept of the album was so interesting, it convinced me to take a serious listen:

Combining lyrical creativity and musical ingenuity, IV: Mandragora is a concept record on the alchemical creation of a mandrake, and how The Botanist is instructed on raising an army of mandrakes to wipe out humanity. The songs of Botanist are told from the perspective of The Botanist, a crazed man of science who lives in self-imposed exile, as far away from Humanity and its crimes against Nature as possible. In his sanctuary of fantasy and wonder, which he calls the Verdant Realm, he surrounds himself with plants and flowers, finding solace in the company of the Natural world, and envisioning the destruction of man. There, seated upon his throne of Veltheimia, The Botanist awaits the day when humans will either die or kill each other off, which will allow plants to make the Earth green once again.

If anything, this takes Stevie Wonder’s Journey Through The Secret Life Of Planets to a muck darker and sinister level, twisting the concept of what plants are or perhaps a look into what they were before they were used and abused by humans. It’s quite unique, and the fact that it is a concept album, a metal one at that, is even more interesting. There are moments of the production where the sound quality seems a bit thin, but it’s nothing that a bit of EQ can’t fix.

IV: Mandragora was released by The Flenser.

Just when I reviewed the 9th release from Untitled, here comes a fresh(er) release. Untitled10 is the latest release from Untitled, the unknown artist who creates unknown music from unknown sources.

Like previous releases, Untitled10 consists of four pieces, the CD of which is packaged in a plain cardboard cover, accompanied by a packet of images. This release begins on a much more musical note, with a guitar heard playing a casual melody through what sounds like an airport running through a roll of toilet paper, or someone listening to a river stream through a toilet paper roll going through effect pedals. The second untitled track sounds like someone starting up a tape recorder as it locates a proper short wave radio frequency, while picking up anything that comes through. Some of it sounds like a sound man in an empty auditorium, testing out equipment with a microphone and soundboard his only means of pleasure. Things move forward and backward, some of it sounds like bicycle bells, others like chimes one might find on a baby’s crib.

“Untitled” track three could be the sound of rain falling on a Quonset hut, could be chops of firecrackers, could be a fire, could be someone placing a microphone in a plastic or paper back, could be someone throwing rocks towards the side of a house or garage. On its own, it would be the perfect backdrop for a horror movie as one might be lead to think horrible or eerie things. On the other hand, it’s nothing more than cool sounds put together to create this twisted, warbled sound that could be a drone into the gloomy phase of ones life.

The last “Untitled” track sound like someone starting up a toy, realizing it is magnetic (or electrical) in nature, then moving it back and forth to something that causes it to feedback. Then comes a guitar to carry everyone back to the parking lot so eveyrone can drive (or catch a bus) back home. Every now and then, some of the windy sounds may sound like mystical flutes or horses falling down a cliff, but then it fades into the audio unknown and eats itself alive. Then the recording stops as if tape has actually run out, and everything cuts off. The end.

Where Untitled plans to take the listener next, I have no idea, but as long as he/she/they have captured me, I will be a devoted listener for the long haul.

(While currently “out of stock”, Untitled10 can be purchased from Boomkat.com if and when made available.)

The sound of a flamenco guitar is sliced, diced, chopped, and placed in an audio blender, almost to the point where it becomes unrecognizable from its original source. This is what is partially captured on Flamenco Abstractions (Elegua), the latest project from io.

In this case, io consists of guitarist Jose Luis Rodríguez and electro-acoustic artist David Font. Together they merge different words, different generations, different cultures, and different textures to create the sounds that are expressed here, where simple guitar riffs and phrases enter a deep and rich echo chamber, never to return in the same way it entered. It is explored in a 6-piece movement (“Sobre Mineras No. 1-6″) before going into something that could be considered luscious and sensuous, “Sobre Martinete (En Vivo)”. The guitar bounces back and forth in this digital landscape, uncertain of where it will end up. The album ends with the 2-part “Sobre Bulerias”, where things are much more uncontrolled, distorted, filthy, and digital. You’ll still hear Rodriguez’s guitar work but Font’s influence slowly dominates the sound landscape and one is unsure if what you’re hearing is vinyl surface noise or a digital trap. “Sobre Bulerias No. 2″ enters the digital point of no return, as one phase of the album moves into the other, the guitar work moving slowly into the distance and the static and noise sounds like an old radio frequency moving rhythmically into a black hole. It is then you realize the sounds are moving from one generation to the other, and the transformation (if there was one) is complete.

It’s twisted and exotic at the same time, with Rodriguez’s guitar work being fantastic while Font’s textured electronics help to take things in new and unique worlds. It’s quite nice, and I would not mind hearing more works from them, as a duo or as individuals, very soon.

There is someone who has been releasing music under the name Untitled. Or at least the artist’s name is without a name and his or her albums are also called Untitled. For the sake of some sense of continuity, their albums are numbered in the sequence of release so… Untitled01, Untitled02, Untitled03 and so on. The CD’s come in thick, beige card stock, stored inside of a pocket and being accompanied with photos or some type of imagery. That’s it. Each “song” is also “Untitled”, and the identity of the creator (or creators, if it is a duo, trio, or group function) remains unknown.

The appeal for me is exploring the unknown, wondering what they’re creating and how to listen to it. We’re now up to Untitled09, a 4-track CD. Each track (it’s hard to say song, they’re more like sound pieces as they’re not rhythmic, but of course a song doesn’t have to have a rhythm in order for it to be a song) features a good share of what sounds like tape hiss, and the songs sound like they’re slowed down by half, maybe 75 percent. I’m sure if I wanted to, I coudl speed up each track and find out the source material for the sounds that create these pieces. As is, the tracks are very atmospheric and ambient, very spacey and roomy and comes off as introductions or interludes for progressive rock. Keyboards or synthesizers end up sounding like wind going through a church or temple, and what may sound holy and sacred may be nothing more than a few notes recorded, then played at slow levels. Yet there’s a beauty in it, being able to hear something that’s altered and not being sure if what you’re listening to is known or not. Maybe just taking it in is part of its pleasure.

The last of the four tracks is a 20-minute piece that could be interpreted as anything, or at least what you interpret is what you’re thinking of while listening. Is it the last stretch of a marathon? The last thoughts before one is executed? The sound of anticipation of seeing someone you haven’t looked at in years, if not decades? Or is it just life as we know it, explored at half speed? There are points where the effect sounds like audio tape flutter, and in the days of the cassette, hearing that flutter might lead to the taep being eaten up by the tape heads, and snapping. This is a digital world so the tape can’t snap, but what if the song creates a snapping effect? You’re (metaphorically) sitting at the edge of your seat until the track ends, but leaving satisfied when it simply fades out.

I was hooked by Untitled’s work simply by its simplicity, minimalism explored beautifully, and I look forward to hearing what Untitled will offer next.

For guitar playing that is more adventurous than most, look into the works of Andrea Laino and his latest project as LAAND. Electrical Landscapes (Aut) has Laino playing the guitar as if he was an explorer discovering new land, as far as trying to find a primary source of energy, seeing if it’s safe and knowing that it is, proudly twirls wickedly in and out of it because he knows no one is there to see him. He also uses different items to play the guitar and also amplifies other things that aren’t meant to be amplified. Or at least that’s what I get from hearing it. All of it is improvisational and the deeper you get into hearing these Electrical Landscapes, the more I wanted to hear what he could come up with. I didn’t want the album to stop.

The first part features a three-part movement called “Paesaggio”, where sounds evolve and revolve around the guitar sounding like a guitar, to metallic objects playing the guitar strings, to where what you may be hearing is percussion, the strings playing themselves with metal hands, both, or none. Multitrack recording allows Laino to join himself with himself as himself, and that’s when things get eerie with “Lunatico”, as his guitar tones and sweeping feedback may shock the roots of your teeth, leading to the listener discovering cavities one didn’t know existed.

The second part, said to be a tribute to William S. Burroughs, has him bringing in the Echoplex Digital Pro for a bit of delayed action and reaction, helping to balance things a bit from what happened on the first part of the album. Hearing Burrough’s voice mixed in with Laino’s guitar work may be distant and world’s apart, but could have easily been recorded in the present day. At times, Burrough’s voice sounds like a distorted saxophone when run through effects, and he becomes the jazz musician he may not have intended in being.

While running under 43 minutes, Electrical Landscapes sounds greater than most great works that are close to twice its length. What Laino and LAAND plan on doing next, it is uncertain but I hope it will be as interesting as this brilliant piece of work.

Land Of Volcano (Annex 1/Pro-Noise/Grindcore Karaoke) is the latest album from Kimihide Kusafuka, who did this album under the name K2. For those who love pure sheets of uncontrolled noise, this will be the perfect album for you. Each of the four tracks begin out of nowhere at high volume, so you may want to listen to this in a controlled state before turning it up to your convenience. Sounds fluctuate, pulsate, and tear up the stomach as if it was a disease, and if certain things cut in and out of the mix, that was its intention.

Trust me when I say that the pieces here may lead to deafness, and you wouldn’t want that. If you want to feel the intensity of these pieces, turn it up very loud but wear earplugs. Some of the more glorious moments on this come during a jugalbandi of complete distortion and complete clarity. It is then you will know you have approached a saw about to slice your mind in half.

Meaty, beaty, big & noisy as fuck: that’s what this album from Interlard sounds like, and it’s ultragood. If you love your sounds a bit claustrophobic, turned up to 11 but with a sense of groove that makes it too interesting to ignore, check out Meanwhile, five songs where the song lengths are as interesting as the music itself. Shortest song is about 2:45 while the longest song is 13:16. Imagine the last two minutes of Nirvana’s “Endless Nameless” mixed in with some of the deafening jams of Sonic Youth, cut up with the tribal groove of !!! and a sense of distorted freedom that comes from understanding the combination of experimentation and minimalism, and you have what Interlard are about in these five songs. Take on the album closer “Tear Smell”, and it’s a delusional mind fuck sandwiched between two slices of beautiful sounds, as if birth and death are the only times when one will be able to hear sounds grandeur, and life is just a doomed mess. Maybe that’s what it is, or maybe not, but it’s Interlard.

audionaut’s requiem for cats (elegua) is five pieces of sound art, found sound if you will, an assembly of audio construction that comes from an unknown range of sound sources. What you may be hearing is the sound of a generator in garage at half speed, you may be hearing a chopped horn loop in a high school cafeteria, it may be traffic, it could be anything. The title track travels for 22 minutes and what may be the sound of a record could be the sound of a coffee can lid, or a biscuit. It could be a number of sound sources being played at once, or it could be one thing being played a number of times: bells and chimes being played by thumbs, or thumbs being played by chimes, it is unknown.

“at the space academy” sound like a ground wire that no one wants to turn off, the buzz is basically the core of the track and while it seems there are intervals every few seconds, it is unknown.

“camcorder suites” could be natural sound played at four to eight to 16 times its normal speed, there are sound textures heard every now and then, and you’re left there wondering how these sounds could be so exciting. Again, it is unknown.

“tone deaf atheist” sounds like someone turning a few radio frequencies through a downtown plaza full of Asian drums as fishermen end up trimming flowers just because they can and maybe… should? I am not certain, it is unknown.

“assend” is arguably the most musical of the six tracks here, this one being a trippy zone that changes key every few seconds and loops almost endlessly. It could be something very familiar and run through effects, before it leads to the sound of what could be a microphone inside of a bag of microwave popcorn. I tried figuring this out but unfortunately, it is unknown.

The final piece is called “1927″, and it sounds like what could be a long lost radio frequency from a time before there was a means to record long lost radio frequencies, but is calling people in what could be a doorbell played at eight to 12 times its normal speed, or it could be an ‘ukulele strumming along to the sounds of birds that may be someone turning a radio dial, or capturing the distanct sound of a smile. It ends with the frequency sounding more distant and we’re left with wondering if we should go the other way to hear more of it. It is too late, and it is unknown.

requiem for cats may not be the title to describe sounds that may be acceptable or complimentary for cats, but maybe a cat could only be the only being to understand this. If asked for an interpretation of what was played, are we able to translate cat language to a human language of any sort? This is unknown, but what a collage of sound to be treated with.