Archive for the ‘Albums’ Category

Post War Glamour Girls – Live at St Austin’s

Posted: 18 October 2016 in Albums
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Christopher Nosnibor

It makes sense for a band renowned for their killer live shows to release a live album, but it takes a band with a certain amount of guts to make that album a project that’s part of a festival’s proceedings, and to go for the live album by way of their third full-length. Post War Glamour Girls have got guts, alright, and Live at St Austin’s was recorded as the ‘watch a band record a live album’ Sunday night session at the end of this year’s Long Division festival in Wakefield.

They open with a very curious hybrid of ‘Sestra’ and ‘Brat’, which respectively stood as bookends to their debut, Pink Fur. In parts completely unrecognisable in relation to either of the originals, it’s a more sedate and altogether less fiery reworking. James Smith shows remarkable restraint, his rowdy raving replaced by a crooning style, which sits alongside some soulful harmonies, the likes of which haven’t been heard from the band previously. Structurally, it’s also completely different… and comes to an abrupt and ungainly halt that sounds like the tape being chewed. Well, it is live, after all. Anything can happen and you only get one take.

‘That’s probably it for music,’ James quips. ‘I’ll now be doing my stand-up set’. Granted, there’s a lot more music and no stand-up, but you wouldn’t put anything past this band. So premiering a new track from their upcoming third album by way of a second track is pretty much par for the course. There’s something of an early- to mid-eighties guitar pop feel to ‘Polyanna Cowgirl’ (commercial pop was seemingly a fair few shades darker then), and it boasts a bold and hooky chorus.

If making their first album a greatest hits / best of set seems like the obvious a to go, you know that’s precisely what you’re not going to get, and second album Feeling Strange (released less than six months before this performance) is largely shunted to one side in favour of their debut, new material, and a handful of covers – which, naturally, are off the beaten track and are drawn in from far out on the left-field (and their version of Elvis Costello’s ‘Shipbuilding’ is as moving as it is unexpected… not that it should be expected for a band who’ve previously covered Robert Palmer).

The vinyl, which presents an abridged version of the occasion to present a different aspect of the set-list (in an alternative sequence) omits the spiky, goth-tinged rendition of ‘Stolen Flowers Rust’ and two of the tracks culled from their second album, presumably on account of space. ‘Cannonball Villages’ (not on the vinyl) is one of the standouts of Feeling Strange and builds an immense, dark, brooding twisting epic journey. As Smith growls the refrain ‘I knew the moment I laid my eyes on you / that I would do anything to get my hands on you,’ it sounds as much like a threat as an expression of desire. Closer ‘Count Your Blessings’ – a bleak choice of a set-ender, if the truth be told – is also omitted from the vinyl, and the fact that such a great rendition can be relegated to the download is testament to the depth of their material – and of course, their unswerving perversity in selecting unreleased tracks and covers over others. Single cuts like ‘Jazz Funerals’, ‘Southpaw Stance’ and ‘Felonius Punk’ don’t get a look in

The slowed-down version of ‘Black Dolphin’ and the dreamy version of ‘Gustave’, on which Alice takes lead vocal duties, offer very different perspectives on established songs, and the piano motif which runs through the Curesque take on ‘Red Terror’, with its crazy reverb action, again places the familiar in an unfamiliar context. The addition of organ and keys to a number of tracks also adds a new dimension to the sound.

Live at St Austin’s works precisely because of its imperfections and its – superficially, at least – perverse set-list. As a live album, it captures the immediacy of a band who thrive on live performances, and at the same time, are all about taking risks and showcasing new material. Go to a PWGG gig and you’ll see a band testing themselves and the audience with new material. This makes the inclusion of debut single ‘Spitting Pearls’ all the more surprising and welcome. They’ve probably played it about twice since its release: it’s a personal favourite, and they more than do it justice here, Smith finally unleashing his full-throated Tom Waits holler. It’s fucking brilliant, and met, briefly, with a stunned silence.

Live at St Austin’s is an honest live album: it’s not that the sound is rough, because it isn’t: but in places, the instruments aren’t perfectly balanced and there are some dud notes and off-key harmonies. And that’s precisely why it’s so good: it sounds like you could actually be there, it’s not dressed up and overdubbed and polished to studio quality. It’s very much a document of the band that Post War Glamour Girls are, a snapshot of a band who are continually evolving, forever restless, always trying out new arrangements and new material. And yes, they’re the kind of band who place art over commerce, who really are bursting with creativity and are making music for the right reasons. And they truly are one of a kind.

 

Post War Glamour Girls - Live At St Austin's Cover

Gaëtan Gromer – Noise Level

Posted: 16 October 2016 in Albums
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VoxxoV Records – VXVCD011 – 19th September 2016

Christopher Nosnibor

The purpose, primarily, behind Aural Aggravation, was to give coverage to niche music produced by lesser-known artists and little labels. The idea was also to publish reviews geared toward a more long-form format, favouring more journalistic analyses than the soundbite snippets which dominate the mainstream music press (such as it exists now) and many of the more popular websites. Ultimately, of course, the ambition was to run a site which gave myself, as founder / editor and main contributor, free reign, to write about what I liked in a way I liked. It wasn’t so much the cliché that if other people liked it, it’s a bonus: I figure that if I like it, there’s an audience for it somewhere.

Vindication of this approach hasn’t just been in the traffic we’ve received – Aural Aggro will never achieve world-domination but after a year in existence, it’s built a steady and respectable readership – but in the labels and artists who’ve sought us out to submit releases for review because they like what we do. It’s mighty gratifying, and has led to the discovery of some fantastic acts and labels, too.

And so it was that microlabel VoxxoV found us and put their eleventh album, Noise Level by French artist Gaëtan Gromer our way. It’s about drone, noise and ambient music, and that’s what we dig here – amongst other things.

Noise Level is an album to get lost in, but also an album to listen to. The detail is what matters. For what seems like an eternity, so little happens/ but of course, a little is a world away from nothing. Then, amidst the elongated drones, small sounds, water-like drips and ripples disturb the tranquil surface. Barely audible, indecipherable vocal snippets and samples crackle through the airwaves. Notes bubble, drift and turn, wafting formlessly, invisible yet present, the subtlest ebb and flow forms an other-worldly soundscape. Burs of sharp static interfere with the flow, but fail to break out of the shadows. Gradually, so gradually, the notes turn and mutate, pulsate and undulate. Scratches of treble scour away and roughen the edges. Insectoid skitters flicker and clamour as circuitry bleeps, sonar calls and responses. Long, drawling notes sigh in resigned anguish on ‘Le Bibliotheque de Babel’.

The warmth hinted at by the soft-edged swells of sounds on the album’s final track, the ten-minute ‘Always Coming Home’ are countered by grazing guitar drones and clattering, arrhythmic percussive ruptures. Over time, it builds in volume and intensity, the guitar coming to the fore as the album’s only recognisable instrument, a bruising, dense mass of sound bringing the album to a powerful close. With this, Gromer is done, and goes whistling on his way.

 

Gaëtan Gromer – Noise Level

11PARANOIAS – Reliquary For A Dreamed Of World

Posted: 15 October 2016 in Albums
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Ritual Productions – 28th October 2016

11Paranoias do heavy psychedelic with the emphasis very much on the heavy. Their fourth album, Reliquary For A Dreamed Of World is a downtuned, ultra-low frequency, mega low-tempo doom sludge trudge through the darkest places of psychedelia. The crushing riff that lands halfway through ‘Peripheral Metamorphosis,’ the album’s first track, registers around the same sonic zone as Swans’ ‘Cop’. There’s an eternity between each pulverizing drum smash, which lands with the force of a planetary collision, and the power-chords are heavier than is conceivable for mere instruments to make: this is music that’s nothing short of galactic in its enormity and weight. It’s the sound of dark matter combusting.

Five minutes into the 15-minute mammoth that is ‘Destroying Eyes’, a whip-crack treble-topped snare snaps through the dense murk of noise to propel a vocal track, layered in delay and reverb to plough a New-Wave inspired furrow before it all explodes, unexpectedly, in a blistering wig-out centres around a driving goth-tinged groove.

After the hypnotic ‘Avallaunius’ chills the intensity – at least for the first three minutes or so, at which point it brings the noise – ‘Mutus Liber’ brings it low and slow and goes for the crushingly heavy in a big way, the mangled vocals all but lost in the tsunami of immense power chords. ‘Meditation on the Void’ is the darkly hypnotic workout the title suggests, whipping up a cyclone of psychedelia which threatens to collapse in on itself. After the slowly spiralling ‘Phantom Pyramid’, the brevity of the final track, ‘Milk of Amnesia’ is unexpected. In fact, a squalling barrage of feedback a snarling, ripping bass from which emerges something that for all the world resembles a distorted segment of Fields of the Nephilim’s cover of Roxy Music’s ‘In Every Dream Home a Heartache’, it’s unexpected in pretty much every way imaginable.

Conjuring mental spaces and a hallucinogenic, mirage-filled alternative reality, Reliquary For A Dreamed Of World conjures a world that’s s much a nightmare as a dream. It’s a powerful album which, while heavy – and oftentimes, monumentally so – displays a remarkable knack for a deep groove. It’s an album that will bend your brain, while crushing it by sheer force at the same time.

 

11PARANOIAS-cover-2000PX-dark

Christopher Chaplin – Je Suis Le Ténébreux

Posted: 14 October 2016 in Albums
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Fabrique Records – FAB058- 21st October 2016

Christopher Nosnibor

On looking at Christopher Chaplin’s latest album cover, I’m reminded of Peter Hammill’s The Future Now. He may have a full beard, but Chaplin looks every bit as odd and wild as Hammill on his first post-Van der Graaf solo record. The strangely suggestive joints of meat which adorn the back cover only heighten the sense of the bizarre.

The comparisons to Hammill’s album end on the exterior, though: Je Suis Le Ténébreux (while ‘ténébreux’ has numerous translations, including ‘dark’, it’s I am the Enigma, in this context) contains four extended tracks, on which Hans-Joachim Roedelius and Christine Roedelius recite segments of text inspired by ‘The Enigma of Bologna’, a text in Latin from the XVI Century inscribed on a tombstone near Bologna. Poet Claudia Schumann also provides and performs poetry texts, and they’re accompanied by French actress and soprano Judith Chemla and Italian tenor Pino Costalunga.

The music is experimental, and frequently more incidental, than the focal element of the album. The compositions feel free, fluid, and serve to primarily create atmosphere, in a dark and appropriately mysterious-sounding manner. Low, grating rumbles groan beneath scraping strings, swells of scratching discord ebb and flow, slowly, deliberately. Sudden jarring bursts of noise blast from the long, ominous string drones. There are moments of musicality, delicacy and grace, subtle chamber orchestral passages which drift through the mist, to slowly dissolve.

The fragmentary pieces of oration, sometimes half-sung, sometimes whispered, often echoed and distorted, weave in and out. Often indecipherable without recourse to the accompanying booklet (especially for speakers of neither French nor Latin), the vocal incursions are as much another layer of atmosphere as narrative. Aggressive bells and lumbering piano combine with low percussion and sinister, whispered vocals on the title track.

The enigmatic text, which is essentially a long riddle based around a man named Lucius Agatho Priscius and a woman named Aelia Laeilia Crispis, includes the classically paradoxical lines, ‘’Tis neither ‘tis neither -But ‘tis all and each / Together without a body I aver / This is in truth a sepulchre / But notwithstanding, I proclaim / Both corpse and sepulchre are the same’.

The aura of death and otherness radiates from every corner of an album which twists and turns and offers no satisfactory resolution to its own internal complexities. It’s a restless work, and one which isn’t entirely satisfying because it doesn’t seem to ever settle in any sense. Given its inspiration, it’s perhaps just the way it ought to be.

 

ChristopherChaplin_JeSuisLeTenebreux

Sophe Lux & The Mystic – All Are One

Posted: 13 October 2016 in Albums
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James Wells

Sophe Lux & The Mystic is a solo vehicle for Gwynneth Haynes, the younger sister of director Todd Haynes, and the former front person for the band, Sophe Lux (a band who, I’ll admit, I haven’t encountered). Still, new name, new start and all that, or something.

All Are One promises ‘Glam-operatic rock’, and it’s a fair summary of an album that’s forged with analogue gear for a vintage electro sound and a keen pop bent. ‘Your Wonderland’ opens things with a thumping old-school gothy drum machine beat melded to a pulsating synth bass, some chilly keyboards and a dramatic vocal performance. Rumbling thunder and fear chords ripple through the folk-rock-tinged rush of ‘The Love Comet’, a shimmering electropop number with a dark edge.

The title track combines lilting folk with cinematic, soaring, soundscapes and an insistent bassline, bursting into a bold, heraldic mid-section. With elements of Eurythmics, Kate Bush and Queen all in the mix, the sense of scale is immense. Why have one drummer when you can have a whole battalion? Choral vocals swell and ascend to the skies.

The sparse, piano-led intro to ‘Infinite Colours of Desire’ prefaces a Stereolab-like bubbling analogue backing to a full-on soul delivery from Haynes (she gives some big soul grit on the groovesome retro-styles ‘Love is Waiting’ too. As the country-tinged radio-friendly rock of ‘Who Knows What Wonders Might Arise’ evidences she’s an artist who’s more than comfortable turning her hand to any style, and, moreover, makes it sound effortless. Such versatility is rare, and it’s even more rare for it to be displayed on a single album while still making for a work that feels cohesive. And yet All Are One feels extremely well-ordered, a solid body or work that’s more than a bunch of songs slung together. Sophe Lux has got something, and it’s more than wide-eyed flamboyance that says ‘artsy’: she has a charisma that radiates from every note and between every note. Mystic(al) and magical, All Are One is at once a pop album, and something joyously different.

 

Sophe Lux

Manuel Knapp – AZOTH

Posted: 11 October 2016 in Albums
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Ventil – V004

Christopher Nosnibor

Having been impressed by the Kutin / Kindlinger / Kubisch / Godoy collaboration, Decomposition I-III, released on Austrian label Ventil Records, I was eager to get my lugs around Manuell Knapp’s latest offering, which purports to see the Vienna/Tokyo based artist depart from his ‘analogue home-turf to go exploring in the digital fields’. None of this forewarns of the fact that he pours napalm over every last inch of every field in a five-hundred-mile radius and hurls an incendiary missile straight into the middle of it just a few moments into this devastating album.

There’s something stark and straightforward about the track listing for this release: AZOTH Side A and AZOTH Side B. In a way, it gives the listener a blank frame in which to place the music, and equally, it gives nothing away.

The synthesised plucked chimes follow warped Kyoto motifs, while explosions blast all around. The contrast between tranquil folk tropes and the sound of a war raging makes for an unusual and unsettling experience. Gradually, the notes become increasingly dissonant until, before long, all semblance of musicality is obliterated in an ear-splitting wall of noise and rubble. From the wreckage emerges dark, chthonic drones, monstrous, alien sighs, which tear from a whisper to a scream. It’s fucking brutal. Brief moments of tinkling synths taunt the listener with the prospect of respite before the next merciless, neuron-melting assault. Brief moments occur where the noise and the fear chords emerge simultaneously, inviting comparisons to Prurient, but for the most part, AZOTH is the kind of atomizing noise attack that’s Merzbow’s trademark.

Knapp certainly grasps the power of frequency – and volume – and uses the two in combination to achieve optimal sonic torture. When it comes to overloading sonic noise, just when it seems impossible to push the circuitry any further, Knapp tweaks it a bit more, amping up the shrieking blast of noise to levels beyond madness, pummelling the listener from every angle with snarling bass noise competing with a shrill, jagged, high-end squall. While many noise recordings are generic or plain lacking in imagination – Harsh Noise Wall being a particularly dire example of how derivative noise-related subgenres can be, and the moribund nature of concept music centred around a weak, one-dimensional concept, Knapp is attuned to the importance of dynamics and textural variation.

Knapp also knows about art and exploitation: the vinyl version is released in an edition of just 15 copies, each with unique, hand-painted art, and comes with a price tag of €666. Amusing in an ionic way, it’s worth noting that at the time of writing, only five copies remain. This is the kind of release that won’t have broad appeal, or, indeed, much appeal at all in he scheme of things, but will always attract some truly fanatical devotees – and speculative purchasers with cash to burn. But in all seriousness, viewed from a broader perspective beyond merely sound, AZOTH is a work of art. And, ultimately, the sound is art too. It is, of course art, of a challenging, avant-garde nature, rather than of the entertaining, accessible, poster and postcard reproduction variety.

Side 2 marks a change of tone and begins with rumbling, dark ambience and hints at being something of a counterpoint to Side 1. The low, ominous drones eddy bleakly around in a tense, turbulent atmosphere. And then the screeding feedback tears through, while a growling drone worthy of Sunn O))) blasts beneath, and in an instant, everything is fucked. Total aural annihilation ensues amidst an avalanche of flanged laser bomb detonations fire in all directions: it’s bewildering, overwhelming.

The totality of the blitz is all-encompassing. AZOTH is about as uncompromising as can be.

 

AZOTH

Cut Worms – Lumbar Fist

Posted: 11 October 2016 in Albums
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Opa Loka Records – OL160096

Christopher Nosnibor

It begins with a long, low, ominous hum. The movement is so gradual as to be barely perceptible. Slowly, so slowly, it grows, swells, and turns, its density, depth and texture shifting, microtonal layers emerge and fade. Dolorous chimes ring and resonate in the sonic mist. The individual tracks are segued together to form an extended, evolutionary work. Brooding strings strike and organs waver on ‘Stone Ether’, and over the course of the album, Cut Worms stalls time to create space and distance, ethereal soundscapes drift, soft, sculpted, immersive.

The forms and structures are as subtle, fleeting and inscrutable as the infiniteness of space and the existence of dark matter. Equally, the origins of the sounds which fill the album seem wholly removed from one another: Lumbar Fist is an electroacoustic work, created with live generated and processed sounds, without any prefabricated beats or loops, and as such, the process entails considerably more than the all-too-common mechanical laptop machinations of ambient works.

Richard Van Kruysdijk – the man who alone is Cut Worms (and what an evocative moniker that is… not that the album title’s far behind) has spent a long time honing his craft, and Lumbar Fist stands alongside artists like Tim Hecker, Oren Ambarchi, Glenn Branca, Stephan Mathieu, Will Guthrie and Jim O’Rourke not just as an exemplar, but an outstanding example of atmospheric, drone-orientated ambience.

 

Cut Worms - Lumbar Fist

Halshug – Sort Sind

Posted: 9 October 2016 in Albums
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Southern Lord – 30th September 2016

Christopher Nosnibor

There’s something rotten in the state of Denmark, and Halshug are the band to soundrack everything that’s rotten, bleak and uncomfortable in their native country. From the pleading, agonised screams and tears of a man being tortured, to the last howl of feedback, Sort Sind is a merciless and brutal album. Beneath the deluge of power chords, a mess of overdriven, serrated metal churn, the welter of thunderous, hell-for-leather drumming and dense, chugging bass, there are actual hooks and choruses to be found – but not many, and this statement should not be read that this is by any means a pop album, or that’s it’s accessible or easy going. It really isn’t.

The vocals sound as if they’ve been cloned from Lemmy’s DNA, and this hoarse-throated roar leads the power trio through nine abrasive tracks. The Mötörhead comparison carries into the music, too: like Mötörhead, Halshug (trans. ‘decapitate’) combine punk and metal to create something harder, heavier, faster and more attacking, without resorting to the clichés of either genre.

The album’s title translates as ‘Dark Mind’, and the themes of substance abuse, parental neglect and growing up in deprived areas of Denmark dominate the album. With track names translate to ‘Scum’, ‘Violence’, ‘Defeat’ and ‘Lonesome Death’, it’s a fitting title for an album fuelled by rage and frustration, delivered with an energy that’s pure catharsis.

Recorded live, produced and mixed at Ballade Studios in Copenhagen by Lasse Ballade, who also produced and mixed Blodets Bånd, Sort Sind is bursting with rawness and immediacy the music demands.

 

Halshug

Claire M Singer – Solas

Posted: 7 October 2016 in Albums
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Touch – TO:101

James Wells

It’s perhaps due to the formulaic nature of television dramas that a certain type of orchestral music has become almost a signifier for rolling countryside, and people in bouffy dresses and full skirts or frock coats and hats riding horses, brawling in taverns and battling high seas, or otherwise taking the and bidding one another ‘good day’. Such pieces are then played, ad infinitum, on commercial classical radio as exemplars of contemporary classical music. It’s by no means the fault of the composers or musicians: it’s inevitable in the arts that commissions and funded projects will determine the outlets of their work.

The medium isn’t always the message, though, and while the pieces featured here are largely products of specific commissions, Claire M Singer’s work retains a strong focus on her own compositional interests: (quote from press). Imposing strings, bold and evocative sweep and arc through ‘A Different Place,’ as rousing percussion drums a rolling, thunderous tattoo. ‘Ceo’ is an altogether sparser composition which casts a more gloomy atmosphere, and the title track is an extended meditation on the album’s theme (‘Solas’ translates as ‘light’ from the Gaelic) and Singer’s instruments of choice. The organ’s majestic grandeur is very much brought to the fore, and resonates on a deep, subconscious level.

The slow-building sweep of ‘Eilean’ is gentle yet at the same time subtly stirring, flowing into the humming swell of the solo organ piece of ‘Wrangham’. Disc two contains just one track, ‘The Molendiner’, co-commissioned by Glasgow art gallery The Civic Room and Union Chapel, London, which spans twenty-six minutes. Centred around ‘the precise control of wind though the pipes’ of the organ, it utilises various organ types to create a vast sonic expanse, which hangs, drawing out an immense mid-tone humming drone. This probably doesn’t sound like the greatest advocation, but trust me, it’s subtly powerful, and as a whole, Solas is a moving collection of works.

 

Claire M Singer - Solas

Kindlinger / Kutin / Kubisch – Decomposition I-III

Posted: 6 October 2016 in Albums
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Ventil – V002 – 1st May 2015

Christopher Nosnibor

This one’s taken a while to reach me, but I’m pleased it finally has. Decomposition I-III is a collaborative work between Peter Kutin and Florian Kidlinger which is designed to ‘lead the listener through three territories antagonistic to human life,’ Antagonism is something of a dominant theme here: Decomposition I-III is an album based on field recordings, which simultaneously sets out to ‘leave the now moribund category of “field recordings” behind’. Antagonistic but perhaps justified: how many more albums of birdsong and marketplaces, rippling tides and passing cars does the world really need in order to be brought into closer proximity with a sense of environment?

Decomposition I-III takes unusual locations – to say the least – and scrutinises them from the most oblique and often microscopic perspectives. And when an object – or a sound – is viewed from microscopically close range, the viewer’s perspective is altered. Something small or quiet becomes immense and excruciatingly loud. And so, Decomposition I-III is presented as an album which is ‘radical and merciless, estranged and aggressive yet still poetic… a bizarre narration.’ If the notion of an albums based on field recordings being ‘radical’ or ‘merciless’, let alone ‘aggressive’ seems a bit far out, you should probably listen to this before passing judgement.

‘Absence’ evokes the experience of standing on top of a mountain in a gale. The wind roars and buffets. Corrugated metal roofs bend and creak and scrape and clatter. Demons howl and shriek in the darkness as half-tunes warp and twist out of shape. The tempest abates, leaving a dull rumble and extraneous clanks which reverberate ominously. The origin of these sounds? The internal mechanisms of a telescope during the calibration process. All of a sudden, a full-on white noise roar blasts out: the Pacific Ocean, in full force. From within the barrelling wall of noise, layers of sound and other incidentals filter through.

‘Introspections’ represents a change of tone, but again takes an unusual slat on its utilisation of sound. The harshness of winter conditions is magnified in snow-blinding sharpness at the start, as the crunch of boots trudging through thick, ice-crusted snow. The footsteps halt, and only the sound of dripping water in a cave and a dull, distant roar hangs heavy in the dank atmosphere. Slowly, the sounds shift, a ringing hum and the crackle of broken glass, or ice, contrast starkly with one another. The sinister tones are uncomfortable and unsettling.

‘Illusion’ is so quiet at first as to be barely present, before a mid-range hum thuds in, a thick, abrasive, multitonal, jagged wave throbs and scrapes.  Shifting, drilling, buzzing and vibrating, pulsating and throbbing and rattling, clattering, battering, beeping, rolling and scratching, it needles at the senses.

While sonically, the three experimental pieces are well-suited to vinyl, the fact the first track, ‘Absence’ is split over the first two sides is something of an impedance to the flow. I’m not averse to getting off my arse and turning over a platter, but it’s a chew when a track’s cut in the middle. So, in a way, I’m also pleased to experience the album in its digital form, which is still mastered as four separate tracks. Decomposition I-III is an album best taken in a single sitting – not because it’s easy, but because the full impact and resonance of the deep-delving sonic excavations have the greatest impact when digested in this fashion.

 

Decomposition

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