Posts Tagged ‘Drag City’

The Silence

Masaki Batoh’s output of late has been nothing short of admirable. Between a run of solo albums and his work with The Silence, the man’s pumping out multiple albums per year without the slightest dip in quality. Following up the absolutely crushing Metaphysical Feedback from last year, the band pushes into heavy pscyh Nirvana with Electric Meditations. The record follows its predecessor’s reliance on sax and flute to fill out the shifting landscapes, letting heavy walls of riff and tender folk sidle down psychedelic jazz tributaries. The title track straddles the blend especially well, shifting easily on its feet from electric sweat growl to hushed moments of reflection. The album begins with a similar crash to the gates in “Tsumi to Warai,” which wields sax like a battering ram before letting a snaking bass section writhe against the groove into the opening of the album.

They blister next through a psych-funk simmer, dousing the listener with humid flutes and a tangle of rhythm then wind through the wooded paths that bear the brush marks of his time with Ghost. They get lost in the abstract only to pull themselves from the void of twinkling improvisations and conquer once more. Then, just for good measure, they knock the lid off of a cover of Bo Diddly’s “I’m A Man,” sounding like an outtake from Two Bands And A Legend. The Silence has always seemed like Batoh’s well-oiled endgame — a perfect amassing of players that can finally form the sounds that have haunted his head for ages.

It’s the songwriter at his most varied, but the eclecticism fits together like a puzzle box that’s a portal to a realm of fascinating forms. The panoramas on Electric Meditations are vast and wondrous, and it almost seems like he’s been overlooked in the last few years because people expect spot-on psychedelia from a figure as storied as Batoh. It’s worth shouting, however, that the legend is still plugged into the lysergic portal and passing the visions onto us in records that delight, disorient, and divine some sort of deeper cosmic thrum. Don’t miss out on what Batoh’s been conjuring.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Magik Markers

In the gap between Magik Markers Surrender to the Fantasy and 2020 it’s fair to say that the world has shifted, yet the band picks up their distillation of noise-pop and make it seem just as biting and relevant as ever. The group has long had a proclivity for balancing the brutal with the beautiful, wielding grunge-slung hooks alongside skin-flaying noise and tender moments that poke at the new skin underneath the wounds. The formula hasn’t changed but it feels like in their absence Magik Markers only became better conduits for their brand of barnacled pop shakedown. They ooze into the record, slow and primordial with eyes on the skies and heads in the mist as Elisa inhabits the spectral form for “Surf’s Up.” By the time they’re three songs in the sonic briars of “That Dream (Shitty Beach) are tearing at the listener with a thousand tiny cuts.

Both Elisa and Pete took the break from Markers to release solo works that embraced more tender territory and the tidal tone on “Born Dead” is an argument in favor of Ambrogio’s devastating way with a song. Even outside of the context of the album, the song’s layered synths and cavernous vocals relay a darkness and mournfulness that most songwriters never touch. While it would seem tempting to languish, the band jumps right back into the fray, draining the pool and skating in the sun with spot-on aughts noise pop that pulls me right back to an era when Eat Skull, Tyvek, and Times New Viking blistered the speakers for a summer or two.

As with any impulse in the Markers’ quiver, it doesn’t last as they weave further darkness over the last half of the album —plunging the listener right back into the depths that they plumbed in “Born Dead” and “Surfs Up” with closer “Quarry (If You Dive)” and the winding, tortured “CDROM.” The tonal shifts never feel wedged though — surging through bouts of depression and regret balanced with the requisite anger and joy necessary to deal with the overwhelming feelings. While bright spots appear, the album is more contemplative and haunted by the past than any of their previous albums. The lure of dark waters is difficult to resist and like the Markers maybe we’re all not dealing well, but we fight through nonetheless. 2020 is likely a year that we need Magik Markers more than ever. Its good to have ‘em back.




Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

The Silence – “Electric Meditations”

Masaki Batoh isn’t wasting any time these days, cranking out excellent solo records and new material from The Silence at a dazzling clip. The latter is back on the heels of their heavy hitter from last year and from the sounds of the nearly eight minute title track, “Electric Meditations,” it’s going to be just as ferocious. The song crawls in on a stomping riff before the band lays in with fat bleats of sax and Batoh laying down a faraway lyric over the top. It burns straight through — growling, groaning, and letting the listener get a nice sear on ‘em between the grit on that guitar and the bulbous sax blasts that permeate the song. The Silence has proven to be some of the ex-Ghost songwriter’s most intense material over the years and from the sounds of this one, that reputation isn’t going anywhere soon. The new record is out November 6th from Drag City.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Tashi Dorji – “Now (Pt. I)”

The breathless pace of Tashi Dorji is admirable, to say the least. Adding to his already packed 2020 release schedule the improviser announces a new LP for Drag City. This time the constant collaborator retires alone to the studio, which sounds tame but it’s a rarity for someone so often captured in the live setting. “Now (Pt. I)” is turbulent, fractured, tense, and at times frantic, but it reflects the times it was written in quite concisely. Dorji burrows into the fuming storm at the heart of the modern era, bringing the frustrations of the past few years boiling to the surface. With the focus squarely on his playing, this promises to be one of his most focused in a little while, and the stark spotlight peels back the pain of us all. The LP is out September 25th from Drag City.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Magik Markers – “Machine”

Got busy over the last couple of days, but that doesn’t mean that the return of Magik Markers was lost on me. The band announces a new EP for Drag City and it sees the trio back in fine form, picking up where they left off at the beginning of the last decade. Hammer-lock drums hold “Machine” fast to the pavement, but the rest of the track tries its hardest to lift this one off into the haze above. Elisa’s floating in a fog of echo and dodging the dust that the guitars kick up all over the track. The band was long known for their ability to lacerate a crowd with a cocked eyebrow and the ozone fizzing off the amp, but they’ve also had a knack for reigning the chaos in for the studio take, providing a pop launch pad for the the fury to come. “Machine” makes the case well that this should be on your radar and tucked neatly into any wantlist you’ve got scrawled, screenshot, or digitally cued in your life. The Markers are back. Make note.





Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Masaki Batoh

With his return to the fold of psychedelic folk (with a turnoff into blues last year) Ghost’s Masaki Batoh has reestablished himself as a master of the craft. Not that I’d ever had any doubts about Masaki’s prowess, but its nice to hear him embracing the delicate vibrations that result in melancholy bouts of rarefied air once again. While his work with The Silence has seen him reconnect with legendary psych drummer Okano Futoshi (Acid Mothers Temple, Cosmic Invention) he shifts to yet another high profile name for this record, letting Hiroyuki Usui (Ghost, Fushitsusha) create a lilting, skittering backdrop to his verdant vignettes. Often Usui holds back, framing Batoh’s work in shifting winds of sound, but there are moments when the percussionist acts as a perfect foil for the songwriter, as on “Speculum” in which the two artists play off of one another with graceful elegance.

Largely Batoh has shirked the lonesomeness of Nowhere, at least in the studio, inviting other members of Ghost and The Silence into the sessions. Though, musically, this record still leans into the solitary winds that he explored on his last LP. Likewise there’s an embrace of fluidity in language, with not only English seeping into his repertoire, but Spanish and Latin this time as well. Batoh doesn’t cobble his influences haphazardly, though, and the language shifts and instrumentation (which ropes in flute, piano, lap steel, saxophone, contra bass) gives the album a tapestry quality that’s meditative, if not also rustic. With the exception of a dip into heavier pscyh on the closer, Smile Jesus Loves You feels like the hermetic album he’s been longing to make, even if there are friends nestled in his cave this time. The mountain winds, and sunrise hues are rampant, and ultimately quite welcome. If Nowhere whet your appetite for more haunted folk from the master, then this will help quench the ache.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Sir Richard Bishop

On his latest album Sir Richard Bishop moves forward and backward simultaneously. The record slips away from the yoke of organic string sounds that have grounded Bishop throughout his career – roping in electronic pathways, less organic textures, and a trend towards the avant over the ethereal. It’s as forward moving and adventurous as anything you’d expect from an artist rooted in the winking world textures and chaotic burn of Sun City Girls. Yet it’s also an ambitious experiment from an artist comfortable enough in his own skin that he’s able to balance virtuosity with curiosity. The record gazes backward in its patchwork approach by becoming a sort of sister album to his excellent aughts installment Polytheistic Fragments. Like that album the tone shifts from track to track, along with the instrumentation, but the overall feeling is one of becoming a soundtrack to some unseen film. The songs are vignettes that drip with sadness, sanguine solitude, and anxious intrigue. The themes have long threaded themselves through Bishop’s work, but he ties the knots particularly well between the pieces here while keeping up his approach of utilizing different instrumentation for each track.

The latter angle doesn’t become a gimmick but rather a conduit to bring out new shadows and shades in the unseen history of Oneiric Formulary. Where before he’d simply switch the tone and tumble of his fingered phrasing, now he lets the caustic gnaw of electronics creep into the mix. His labelmate and contemporary Ben Chasny has done something similar on his latest for DC as well, but Chasny makes synths feel like they were always in the DNA of his songs. Bishop makes it clear that they’ve come to corrupt. This becomes particularly clear on “Graveyard Wanderers”, a scraping, hulking beast of a track that’s without any of Bishop’s typical fluidity, instead hounding the midsection of the album with an overbearing dread. Not to be outdone, he follows the itch of electronics with a bagpipe dirge that churns the dread in yet another way before letting the languid stringwork and zonked electric slides return. Any follower of Bishop through the years knows that abrasive is in his oeuvre and he lets it linger here alongside some of his most accomplished runs and lyrical picking. This far on, Bishop is still looking to stir the pot and succeeding nicely.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Flat Worms

There’s something fitting about Flat Worms naming their sophomore album after the last safe space in the world from a human contact perspective, while also naming it after one that’s in dire danger from humanity at large. Antarctica is a brittle, brutal, and quite honestly fair assessment of the predicaments we all find ourselves facing in 2020. Even before the proverbial rug was pulled from the amassed nations of the world, the band found themselves in a pessimistic crouch, uncompromising and unrepentant. Who else to bring these brutalities to fruition, then, but the patron saint of disposition himself, Steve Albini. The veteran producer gives little in the way of softness to the band and, in turn, they give little back. The record is fashioned in the mold of ‘90s rock that seeks to bring on a full body itch like an unwashed wool sweater. Though that doesn’t mean its not without comfort.

There are certainly hooks dug into their disdain, but they wear their frustrations on the surface first and foremost. The fire is warm here, but the smell of lighter fluid makes it unpleasant all the same. The L.A. band has been steadily building their sound over the past few EPs and singles — working up a ferocity that breaks loose on Antarctica. Their debut was lean and lanky, but this one’s put on muscle. The bass thunders but keeps its hips limber. They lay down a bedrock of metal bitten rhythm that traces the tail of the Northwest down a rabbit hole lined with Wipers singles, Mudhoney deep cuts, and Green River nihilism. The leads scream from the strain of feedback and bile. There’s been a revival of ‘90s impulses lately, it was bound to happen, but few of the revivalists have dug into what made the crux of grunge vital like this trio has. With this album Flat Worms find that same match strike that melds the hip-thrust hunger of metal with the careening trajectory of punk. Nostalgia be damned, this one feels like its got a talon in ya, and the twisting is both brutal and glorious all at once.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Six Organs of Admittance

There’s always a need to celebrate when a new Six Organs gem tumbles down the belt, and his latest Companion Rises sees Ben back in fine form. Shedding the constrictions of his Hexadic system, which marked his last couple of releases, the album is locked back into the smoggy-eyed smolder that marks some of 6-orgs’ best works, though this time around he’s subbing a crinkled dose of technology in place of splicing tape and overdubbing percussive takes though the night. While there’s always the possibility of hampering the formula and making it feel like a digital copy of a copy that’s somehow both too crisp and yet still off-center, the addition of programing sits seamlessly into Chasny’s style. The programmed percussion still lollops with the same skitter those old hand drums did and that’s part of what makes it click.

Atop the patter of virtual sticks, Chasny lets the guitars do what they do best in the context of Six Organs – they tangle into ornate nests of notes, they singe themselves with a delicate fury, they rest the ornaments of production in a hammock of six-string security. What’s more he makes synthesizers singe in the same manner, pushing their production to the most organic edges of the mechanical spectrum. They ring and burble like replicant technologies, hardly aware they aren’t grown from the ground. When Chasny fuses the future with the past his bio-organic burn feels like an evolution of sound – nylon strings bending around in circular paths that lead forever down in repeated loops of copper wire and crushed circuits. The spark of guitar fury is still there like a wick bound to set the songs aflame and the blaze is beautiful – full of warmth, subtle flickers of orange and yellow, and an ashen ending that feels transformative.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments

Sir Richard Bishop – “The Coming of the Rats”

Another dark rivulet of folk pools out of the upcoming Sir Richard Bishop LP this week. “The Coming of the Rats” is decidedly tempered when it comes to string velocity, compared to the tangle on previous peek “Celerity,” but the measured pace doesn’t dull the impact. Creeping with the kind of menace that would befit that title, the song shows off contact burn electric leads dueling with the quiet lope of acoustic for a cut that’s etched with soul collapse and bile. The song reeks of an internal struggle against better instincts, succumbing to a darkness that threatens to consume. The album is on its way April 17th, and this only makes the wait harder.



Support the artist. Buy it HERE.

0 Comments