Posts Tagged ‘Lo-Fi’

24th March 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Ironically, it’ll take more time to upload this review of the latest single by lo-fi indie / alt act Argonaut than it will take to play it, let alone write about it.

For a band who really pushed themselves in 2023, releasing a track a month to evolve their ‘open ended’ album, Songs from the Black Hat, which wound up featuring thirteen tracks, and who may have been expected to ease the pace a bit while they took stock and began to assimilate the practicalities of a new lineup, they’ve really surpassed themselves so far this year.

The video is pretty slick in relative terms, but the song itself is a classic and quintessentially Argonaut lo-fi cut with big, thick, buzzing bass and guitar, and the dual vocals which really do define the band’s sound – Laura’s hyper-bubbly pop tones contrast with Nathan’s monotone drawl, and here they really do exploit the quiet/loud dynamic form over the course of an explosive and thrilling minute and a half. Yes, a minute and a half: sneeze and you’ll miss it. But in that time, they still pack in a strong, hooky chorus, and I’m assuming the song is a reference to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia rather than the band, Fightmilk – and while they may never be as cool as the former, they’ve got a clear edge over the latter. So that makes them pretty cool, really.

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17th February 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Writing on their single ‘Existential Dread’ in these virtual pages in October, James Wells was hugely enthused by the track, but made no bones about the fact he wasn’t keen on the band’s name. But listening to this, it makes perfect sense: with a filthy, serrated bassline that grates away like a rusty saw, it’s nasty alright, and probably best not to be aired pre-watershed. It’s punky, but also owes an immense debt to The Fall, not least of all with the delivery of the sneery, snarky vocals, chewing on the refrain and spitting it out, mangled and messy. The there’s the thumping repetitive drumming and, appearing unexpectedly, some quite buoyant 80s indie synth work. But it’s not just some cheap Fall rip-off – although its lo-fi fizz is integral to its appeal – but brings elements of The Pixies into play as part of its grungy four-chord stomp. They’re not wrong when they describe it as ‘Simple. Direct. Violent.’ And say that they’ve made ‘a song that sounds exactly like the adrenaline rush when you realise that life will never be the same again.’ Clocking in at two minutes and fifteen seconds, there’s no space for mucking about.

They add: ‘We made a song about something complex and difficult. Identify. Surveillance. Scrutiny. Or maybe it is a song about sending dick pics or shoplifting? Really, it means whatever you want to mean. In Crowland you decide what something means. What is truthful.’ One may argue that this is something of a cop-out, but by the same token, it acknowledges and accepts that songs take on meanings which are personal and individual to each listener, and to impose meaning is likely futile – or a likely cause of disappointment to some. There aren’t many lyrics to unravel, as it happens, with the verses consisting of the lines ‘Pixelate me! Hide my face!’ between choruses consisting of the title repeated. Its simplicity is its genius.

5th January 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

While I’m still sifting through December’s releases – it seems as if 90% of 2023’s releases landed on 15th December – I’m most conscious that 2024 hasn’t only arrived, but is blasting forwards at a rocket pace. The first week has evaporated already. Where does time go? Where does life go? I find myself contemplating these questions daily, weekly, not as part of some existential fret, but simply as I jostle with the everyday contradiction of the so-called work/life balance. For the majority, the very concept is a myth. They work, they work, they work… and then they die. This is the reality of contemporary capitalism, and apparently, we need to shut up and deal with it.

I shall park the political rage momentarily, while addressing this. Here we have ‘Choppy’, the new single release from Berlin punk rock duo Circolo Vizioso, pitched as ‘a high-octane single spawned of depression and failed love story and… the first taste of their debut album Verrueckt (out March 1st) and as showcasing ‘their unique brand of high-intensity, lyric-driven punk, created with electric violin, guitar and drums. On this album, Circolo Vizioso wrestles with isolation, lack of social and human contact, and a hunger for music and art, which we all felt during recent lockdowns.’ It’s also pitched as being for fans of Sonic Youth, The Black Angels, Fugazi, Nirvana, Buzzcocks, Shellac, Gang of Four, Schleimkeim, Pisse, Abwaert, Old Time Relijun. Of the bands among those with which I’m familiar (It’s a falsehood that even the most knowledgeable music critics have heard every band, however hard they might pretend it’s so) this is all positive, and these are the kind of bands whose sound provide a sonic template for exploring some dark and complex emotions and navigating challenging situations and a messed-up society. Music is more than mere entertainment: it’s an outlet, a way of dealing with difficult things, of exploring and working through them, and on the evidence of this release, Circolo Vizioso unapologetically channel these difficulties into their creative outlet.

‘Choppy’ is as raw and primitive as it comes. Rough and scratchy, it feels like a demo – but to pretty it up with production would be to strip it of its primal immediacy. Listening to those first few bars, I’m reminded of early Pavement, in every way: it’s rattly, ragged indie, cleanish guitars fuzzing as a condenser mic on a portable cassette recorder overloads. It’s heavy with melancholy, and the tempo switches and drags and races. And the accompanying video – ultra-saturated, blurry – is an eye-bleeder which perfectly mirrors the mood and the no-fi stylings. The violin makes for an unusual slant, bringing further tension and scrapey noise to the dysfunctional party.

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It’s been quite the year for Argonaut, as they land the final instalment for 2023 for their ‘open-ended’ album project Songs from the Black Hat, they started back in October of 2022, and which has seen them release a single a month this year, and despite being reduced to a three-piece due to geographical disparities, they’ve maintained their momentum.

One major benefit of doing everything DIY is having no constraints or dictations, and an open-ended album doesn’t have to conform to any rules of cohesion or length, and ‘Christmas No. 1’ is a bit different from the rest of the album to date – namely it’s an overtly Christmas song, replete with a soft-focus, shimmery, tinsel-draped video.

‘Musically channelling all the classic Christmas songs (6/8 timing, jingle bells, key change, anthemic coda singalong!) and lyrically tracing Lorna, Nathan and Deb’s first London Christmas to our last. Please download for free, play alongside Wham Shaky and Macca and have a number one Christmas and a punk rock new year!’

Watch the video here – best enjoyed with a glass of port, or maybe Bailey’s if that’s your thing:

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Criminal Records – 24th November 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Regular readers – and fans of Argonaut – will have probably observed that we’ve been pretty consistent in plugging their open-ended album-in-progress Songs from the Black Hat, which has seen the li-fi DIY indie act self-release a song a month via BandCamp. But October’s tune is today getting an official release on a real label – namely Criminal Records, home of The Kut, with whom they’ve released two previous albums.

Nathan explains the band’s methodology for the album’s continual evolution this: “At band practices we each write song titles on slips of paper & put them in the hat. One is then picked at random. We jam around that title & see what alchemy occurs. Most times the magic flows & the combined band chemistry creates something we are really pleased with.”

With two previous albums on Criminal Records, Argonaut’s newest release is produced by Jack Ashley of Popes Of Chillitown, and mastered by The Kut who was drummer/producer on Argonaut’s self-titled debut.

I still can’t hear the world ‘vulnerable’ without thinking of Nathan Barley and an image of David Bowie pissing into a Dualit toaster, but perhaps, particularly since the pandemic and our government’s shameful treatment of the poor and the disabled, I’ve become significantly more sensitive to the way in which vulnerability can be life-shaping, and rarely in a positive way.

Whereas perhaps even in the not so distant past, vulnerability was perceived as being synonymous with weakness, a great many of us understand that it is a fundamental facet of the human condition, and recognise that almost everyone is vulnerable in some way at some time or another. This may not be true of the right-wing tossers who scoff at showing vulnerability – or sensitivity to it – as being ‘soft’ and ‘woke’, but anyone who is a reasonable human being can empathise with how circumstance and life events can place strain on an individual, and just as we’re getting to a place where we can talk about mental health without being stigmatised, so we appreciate that to show vulnerability in fact requires strength in a way we didn’t not so long ago.

The fact that ‘we’ are the vulnerables – all of us – is the crux of the song’s lyrics, along with the painful truth that others will exploit vulnerability for their own ends:.

We are the vulnerables

And we are being used

We are the vulnerables

Me and you and you and me and you

Because it’s Argonaut, it’s a natty tune in the classic indie / alternative style: Lorna’s vocals are sweet and ultra-poppy and there’s both jangle and bounce to the instrumentation – but Nathan can’t resist bringing blasts of fizzy, fuzzy distorted guitar. It all stacks up to a superbly catchy indie pop tune from a band who have quite a catalogue to catchy indie pop tunes to their credit, and no doubt plenty more to come.

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We’re still not 100% sure where exactly Christ’s Gasoline is, but garage punk duo Black Mekon have spent the best part of the last two decades putting their birthplace on the map. The two masked brothers have been handpicked to tour across America, Europe and Japan by the likes of Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Guitar Wolf & King Brothers – and  released no less than twelve albums, and nine 7” singles. And that’s not to mention finding time to somehow create their own video game, action figures, bubblegum, a fully functional Arcade Machine, the “Mekonizer” fuzz pedals, an animated movie, and several comics along the way.

Their 13th album will be released into the world on Friday 13th October, titled NEAT!, naturally named after their own fanzine. In an unexpected deviation from their strict “one-take-will-be-fine” DIY ethos, for the new album they teamed up with Stockholm based garage rock legend Lucern Raze to share production duties. “I mostly did it for the money, but I also wanted to help create a Mekon record that doesn’t instantly make your ears bleed” , shares Raze; “this one’s probably 10% more listenable than the rest.”

NEAT! will be released worldwide via the bands long term sufferers PNKSLM Recordings on October 13th, with an exclusive pink and white vinyl version available exclusively from Rough Trade as well.

Ahead of the album, you can listen to all 2’11” of ‘Cheap Date, Expensive Drugs’ here:

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8th September 2023 – Cruel Nature Records

Christopher Nosnibor

One of the things that really makes Cruel Nature stand out as a label is that you never know what they’re going to put out next. Many labels – and music fans – claim to be eclectic in their tastes, but such claims rarely hold up to scrutiny. Anything that involves a permutation of guitar, bass, drums and vocals isn’t ‘eclectic’. Cruel Nature are eclectic in the John Peel sense, spanning the full gamut of experimental rick and electronica with a fair amount of jazz on offer too.

As the bio sets out, ‘Dragged Up are an off-kilter psych-garage proto-punk band. Formed in Glasgow in late 2018 by Eva Gnatiuk (Las Mitras), with Simon Shaw (Trembling Bells) & the writer Lisa Jones. In 2019, Chas Lalli (Vom/Bad Aura) & Julian Dicken (The Cosmic Dead) joined. In 2022 Stephan Mors (The Owsley Sunshine) replaced Dicken on drum duty… Their debut mini-album "D/U" was released in 2020, show-casing their seamless cross-pollination of doom, psych, proto-punk, garage, and spoken word.’

They give a track-by-track summary of their latest offering, Hex Domestic (which does have connotations to my intertextual brain of a collision of The Fall and Pavement), and the track-by-track summary maintains this vibe:

‘Hex Domestic’, is their new E.P. consisting of:

Juvenile bone-throwing at the shut-in occultist (Hex Domestic)

Posthumous Pac-Mania (Fairytale in the Super Arcadia)

A lungful of mud, a hail of toads (Hurricane)

Peering out from the eiderdown, crawling back in again (Blaming the Weather)

So now you know what the songs are about… And you’ve seen the cover art, which is a black metal parody, the horned goat almost butting at Bathory… but how do they sound?

The title tracks comes on like The Fall circa 83, jangling guitars nearly in tune, merged with Sonic Youth. It’s slackedrist, it’s proto-grunge, it’s indie with edge and at the same time it’s loose and harks back to simpler times when bands could spend a day or two in a ‘studio’ which was no more than an 8-track in someone’s garage, cut a record, and get it played by John Peel.

‘Fairytale in the Super Arcadia’ is almost seven minutes long, and it sticks to the band formula and froths with budget distortion, plugging away at the same riff for it’s almost seven-minute duration without a moment’s respite.

The three-minute ‘Hurricane’ is necessarily explosive and blows everything away, and ‘Blaming the Weather’ maintains the meteorological theme as it guides the EP to a close.

Hex Domestic is wonky, lo-fi, the clean but ramshackle guitars and overlapping vocals defining the sound, its sound very much replicating that of the late 70s and early 80s. It’s budget and it’s boss.

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Keeping up with their schedule of a single released on the first of each month, Argonaut have pulled ‘Not Motivational’ from the Black Hat.

So when they write ‘September’s single is not motivational,’ they mean it most literally, going on to outline the song as being ‘punk pop protest with a dual vocal assault high on energy and attitude. A catchy diatribe against bad influencers and motivational speakers who aren’t.’

We’ve all seen and heard from these leeches.

Listen to ‘Not Motivational’ here:

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Argonaut are keeping them coming at a rate of a song a month for their open-ended album, Songs from the Black Hat.

We’re fans of this, not least of all because you never know quite what they’re going to bring next.

Keeping it DIY and no-budget, Nathan and Lorna’s sixteen-year old has, for the second month, made the video to accompany the track. Simple, but effective, it’s very much in keeping with the Argonaut ethos.

Check it here:

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1st May 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Argonaut are a band who have certainly embraced the potentials of the Internet, making the most of the ability to take ownership of their release schedule and optimising the possibilities for their DIY aesthetic, not limited to home recordings released within a week via Bandcamp and no-fi videos posted to YouTube.

Nathan and Lorna kept things flowing through lockdown with their homespun ‘Videostore’ project, and now they’ve reconvened, the band are making the absolute most of the limitless options of streaming formats.

Historically, an album had to be no more than around forty-five minutes to fit on a 33rpm record: CDs expanded it to seventy-two minutes, which was probably the length of most double albums, only much cheaper. Tapes provided greater duration but less durability, especially over longer formats: the old C120s were dangerously fine, meaning double-play cassettes were things to be handled with care (as the three copies of The Cure’s Concert and Curiosity I lost proved, although however carefully you might handle a cassette, the heads on your tape deck just stropped and chewed stuff out of spite). More recently, CD capacity has expanded to eighty minutes. Every medium has its limitations: digital streaming has limits to quality and you never know if a track or site will remain, and streaming when your Internet connection drops every three minutes is a massive pain the fucking arse. And it perhaps goes without saying that downloading a track just doesn’t have the same buzz as owning something physical like a 7” or even a CD. That’s something that’s difficult to explain to anyone under thirty, who considers physical ‘stuff’ just so much clutter and the prospect of going to a shop an inconvenience. I get it, but I guess it’s hard to feel you’re missing out on something you’ve never experienced.

But what Argonaut have realised is that an album doesn’t have to be a completed article on release, and this is where their latest project is really interesting. Songs from the Black Hat is probably the first ‘open-ended’ album, whereby they just keep adding songs to it with a new song released on the first of each month. Whereas The Wedding Present’s ‘Hit Parade’ project also saw the release of a new single each month, it had a fixed end, on the premise of there being a 7” single released each month – the album, a compilation, was seemingly an afterthought and its parameters were always going to be finite. Songs from the Black Hat as it stands has no parameters, and ‘Save’ is the sixth song and something of a departure, not just in terms of the album, but for Argonaut more broadly.

They’ve built a career on punchy post-punk tunes which are often concise to the sub-three-minute mark. But as they write of ‘Save’, ‘Clocking in at six and a half minutes, ‘Save’ is Argonaut chanelling [sic] nineties indie anthem 12 inch remixes a la MBV and the Telescopes.’ And it is indeed a beast. As they also explain, ‘The lyrics were inspired by the Thai cave rescue and a genuine primary school comprehension test answer to the question ‘why didn’t Grace Darling save everyone at the same time?’

It’s a reverb-soaked behemoth where the echoing drums soon become overtaken by a chubby bass and a yawning synth drone, with multi-layered bubble-gum pop vocals, reminding us that ‘You can’t save everyone’. No doubt our government will be playing this at the airport in Sudan as they turn away citizens with work visas and the like but no physical passport. But facetiousness aside, this is a beautiful and sad song that also bursts with fuzz and reverb, and spins vintage and contemporary together with a rare deftness of craft.

Let’s see what they pull out of the hat next month…

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