endless endless endless / e.p. hall / sentient machine (another rum bunch of random offerings)
endless endless endless: black talisman – this frankly is rather beautiful. in every way. handsomely packaged as some kind of laser etched shamanic artefact. and aurally the kindof shit that wouldn’t sound out of place on not not fun or next to james ferraro’s holy mountain output. self described as a post-noise duo that plays guitar and gameboys. i came expecting dj scotch egg instead i got a fountain of bliss. a balming wash of drawn out orgasmic whale noise, korgesque squelch and nes eight bit percussion.
they inhabit a soothing elseworld of guitar plink and fuzz and twinkling klang. it’s noise, but one enveloped in a snowy blanket of collaged and unwrapping, unfurling, evolving swoosh. oddly organic despite being made by machine, black talisman is a soothing, warm, pre-comedown elated treacle of melting harmony. it’s all blurred polaroids and repeated electrick agitation and loop upon loop of gentle tongue inside ye earholes. it’s occasionally unsettling, with a creepy boards of canada on downers feel, an almost psyched-out folk vibe. imagine the skaters brighter, murk-free sound filtered through the synthy japanesey machine clank and street chatter of blade runner’s ambience. a crude trope that in all likelihood makes little sense outside my head but fuck it, that’s where this music belongs.
if i had more time this would’ve been in a post of it’s own. but i don’t. so go to the bandsite. there’s a tonne of albums for free. and for the love of christ buy this.
e.p. hall: mommy crow - more beautifully packaged noise. noise as noun, not genre y’understand. this has proved a rather fitting introduction to morning-time following last nights jack rose fingerpicking slideguitar beer excesses.
remember regina spektor before major label antiseptic turned her into a saccharine produced sugary shadow of her former self? well this is what i’d rather she was doing. chucking out occasionally noisy rattling folk murmurings. all things bookish, creepy, and thinky. quoth the raven. in other words (and there are a lot of those) there’s something of the heart and brain and guts about this. something stripped and bloody and bare-boned about the whole affair. but one rich in emotion and language and imagery.
most of the time it’s just lady singing with guitar (a voice that reminds me of a less naif-ish joanna newsom (and i dig joanna newsom)) and then it branches out into xiu xiu style electronickery or cello drone or birdsong or burbling noise or avant percussion, as on churchyard. hell, the emperor’s note even chugs into fizzing arcade fire moves. it’s a decidedly robust, satisfying listen, and one that despite it’s apparent monochromatic minimalism rewards repeated listening.
anyway this is out on the twenty fourth november followed by a euro tour with drekka (whose bluesanct recently put out a fabulous screenprinted boduf songs vinyl). go get. go see.
sentient machine: sentient machine – fuck me this is slick and sexy. like an oil spill on a white alaskan shoreline. sounds like what trent reznor does now but with fire in their ample bellies. is it just me or has rez written some spreadsheet formula for composing nine inch nails songs over the past three records? anyway this has all the spit sheen and polish of million dollar studio album. how the hell they got this to sound so bloody expensive i dunno. maybe i’ve been lo-fi too long and gone all aural mr kurtz…
so hints of faith no more, in the quirky pop-metal of architecture man. hints of killing joke on she blew me away’s tribal stomp (which develops into pure bombastic synth pomp in a stupidly awesome seventies prog, power metal vein). it’s an unrelenting twenty odd minutes, unafraid to inject the punkfunk, toot some big-ass brassy brass, weedelyweedeley solo like zappa (i demand more schmears of zappa over more songs!), chomp down on some disco biscuits, angularly grind out those geetar chops and get all eighties l.a. sleazy on hard enough, a song which has a jazzy breakdown that smacked a big grin across my ugly mug. yr man adam insists there’s an albini influence in there. i don’t hear it. but then i didn’t write the goddam thing. decide for yrselves and get this sparkling pile of audio wonder free from the bandsite.
