98 The Hard Way: EPs, Days 24-25

Isis: The Mosquito Control EP (Escape Artist)

At this point in time, Isis weren't quite as comfortable with the 'post' half of the post-metal tag. The calmer moments don't necessarily feel out of place, but they aren't a fully integrated part of the band's sound yet. As such, what Mosquito Control amounts to is about a half-hour of crushing,abrasive sludge metal, like peak period Neurosis' heaviest moments, that rarely lets up but never gets stagnant. Really, that last part alone makes this the highlight of the band's early years - as they started integrating electronics and ambient sounds into their overall aesthetic, they overdid it to a certain extent before things fell into place almost perfectly on Celestial, so this EP, which just bludgeons the shit out of you for 28 minutes, comes off smelling like roses even if it's the least 'progressive' of the bunch.

Yes, I'm saying that their concept EP is their least progressive material. Besides that little wrinkle, this is very much a straight ahead sludge metal album. That doesn't stop it from being a very good one though, I mean just listen to the confluence of elements near the end of "Life Under the Swatter" where the tribal drums collide with the chunky rhythm riff as a wash of treated, dissonant guitar descends on the track, that sort of thing doesn't happen on lesser albums for sure. There's also the fact that, as a concept record, it really does get the feeling of a giant insect invasion across through sound alone, even without Aaron Turner's rasped lyrics. Once again, not exactly the hallmark of a lesser release. The only real criticism I could level at it is that it's a bit too derivative of Neurosis at times - "Hive Destruction" could pass for a "Locust Star" sequel if not for the vocal style - but that's not exactly a bad thing when you get down to it. All in all, while this doesn't go as far into the post-metal realm as the band's best known material, it provides a solid foundation of balls out rocking that grounds even the band's most experimental material from here on out. [8.3/10[

Arab Strap: Here We Go / Trippy (Chemikal Underground)

I've never had a very bad drug experience, truth be told. Probably owes a lot to the fact that even in the wildest days of my youth I never went further than alcohol, pot and mushrooms when it came to drugs - no prescription drugs, nothing inhaled or injected, not even ecstasy - but nevertheless, I have no 'bad times on drugs' stories like a lot of my friends did. Worst I got was a few mildly disturbing hallucinations the first time I did 'shrooms, but after that nothing stands out besides being able to actually come out of my shell a bit more at parties when I had a little more chemical courage in me. This really just a long-winded way of saying that if "Trippy," both on a lyrical and sonic level, is anything like a bad drug trip I'm very, very glad that I kept it pretty vanilla in my partying days.

"Trippy" adds a new layer to Arab Strap's sound, one that I don't think they ever re-discovered thereafter and definitely not one that has any precedent on their previous outings: menacing. Malcolm Middleton's guitar, even before it gets distorted towards the middle of the track, sounds much more threatening, Aidan Moffat's vocals are frantically ranted in a way that even his most desperate moments couldn't approach, and the addition of what sounds like an actual live rhythm section - there aren't credits on the EP itself to confirm or deny that speculation, but it sounds very live in comparison to the obviously synthetic rhythm section on "Here We Go" - adds a lot more depth to the proceedings. That's all before you get to the song itself, the way it progresses from a normal, albeit darker tinged, Strap track and slowly, but surely evolves into something far removed from that. First, it gets vaguely mathy as Middleton's basic arpeggio starts to slip into 5/4 occasionally, then the straight 'chorus' pattern slides into 7/4 giving the track an unbalanced quality. Then the second guitar, relegated to moderately creepy marginalia for the first bit, becomes more and more present encroaching on the song until it merges with the main riff. Then the song goes into overdrive, becoming increasingly frantic as the bad trip at its center reaches its breaking point, eventually breaking into a much more 'modern rock' styled palm-muted power chord section that I don't think anyone would have thought would fit in an Arab Strap song, never mind fit in logically. All the while Moffat's describing the recipient of the drug fairy's menace as he becomes more and more paranoid - the first time the second vocalist jumps into the mix screaming 'GET AWAY!' is frightening beyond compare - until things get even weirder.

Arab Strap have thrown caution to the wind before and allowed their songs to devolve into techno interludes before - think of legendary b-side "Drug Song for Paula" - but the one they go into on "Trippy" is something much, much better than they usually get to. It's not just that it flows so logically out of the previous song, or that it really does approximate a faceless rave DJ to a frighteningly accurate degree, but that as it happens the song never goes out of focus; The bass riff never lets up, and eventually the guitar adds a modified version of one of the main riffs to the margins of the mix. It's a little thing, but it makes the track that much more engrossing to me; here was the left turn of the track, the moment that the build up turned into instead of exploding like the Mogwai song this seemed to be aiming towards, and yet instead of it sounding like that it remains grounded in the basics of the track up to the point. It also helps that it lasts long enough that it's actually a tangible episode of the saga as opposed to a minor detour.

"Trippy" might be the one song I remember Arab Strap for if I limit myself that way in the future. It may not be their quintessential moment, if anything it's the antithesis to their normal style, but at the same time it brings the two core elements of the band to the fore: Middleton's ease with naturalistic, seemingly unpracticed playing and Moffat's storytelling ability. It highlights both in a way that's at once unexpected and yet perfect, allowing the darker tone of the track - I think I saw a review that referred to it as a lost chapter of Trainspotting and that's as accurate a description as exists - to let the core duo indulge in a variation of their normal schtick without it sounding too out of place in their oeuvre. It's the ideal fodder for a b-side, as this definitely would not have fit on Philophobia tonally yet is as high quality as any of the band's best moments.

I suppose I should mention the actual A side at some point, so here it is: "Here We Go," one of the better tracks off Philophobia though not a highlight. Your basic Arab Strap tune. The drum machine makes me want to kill myself. Gets slaughtered by the flip side. Almost wish that this was a single sided addendum to Philophobia, but any vehicle for giving "Trippy" to the general public is a good one in my estimation. [9.3/10]

Samael: Exodus (Century Media)

Blame/Thank the rise in prominence of keyboardist Xytras, I guess. After a few albums of solid if not exactly noteworthy death metal the direction of the band seemed to be driven by giving Xytras more input. Passage was the first step, fully integrating electronics into the band's sound where they'd been a shading before. Exodus is the next logical step in that direction, testing just how much the two sides of the band - the synthesized, industrial textures that were coming to the fore and the mid-paced black metal roots that they were pushing aside - could peacefully coexist without ruining the band's sound. You can hear that duality quite clearly on the title track, and more importantly you can hear why the industrial edges were to the band's advantage at this point. Really, any track here would be a mid-level black metal track without the extra layers added by the synthesizers, whether they be overt ("Exodus" and especially "From Malkuth to Kether") or more subtle ("Mark of Caïn.") It's the synthesis that manages to elevate the material to a slightly higher level, and while there's nothing as great as "Rain" or the forthcoming "Infra Galaxia" to be found here, the EP is probably the band's most consistent release on the whole, never really knocking any of the tracks out of the park, but also never faltering too badly the way that its surrounding albums did. [7.6/10]


Coil: Summer Solstice (Bee Stings) (Eskaton)

The issue I have with this release, easily the weakest of the Equinox/Solstice series, is that it feels more like patchwork than like a real album. It's a weird case where the individual songs are fairly good, "Summer Substructures" in particular, but they don't connect in the way the vast majority of Coil's releases do. You've got a proto-MtPitD number, a throwback Love's Secret Domain-style track, a full on organic ballad that bears more in common with the resurgent Throbbing Gristle material than anything and a weird sound collage, all great entries into that particular mode of Coil's output but they feel very out of place next to each other. Unlike the rest of the series there's no through line, no unifying concept that draws the disparate parts into a tighter whole. I mean, I don't expect them all to be as unified as the Equinox EPs were, but I do expect a certain attempt at tying the songs together - this is Coil after all, and even their least essential releases are made of material that feels like its of a piece with its surroundings. This feels far too disjointed even if the material is more than adequate. [7.7/10]

American Football: American Football EP (Polyvinyl)

Something happened between the recording of this and the recording of the American Football LP a year or so later: the band got really, really good. There's hints of that here, particularly in the vaguely mathy guitar patterns that Steve Holmes lays out during the bookending tracks, but even the best stuff here feels so slight and ill-conceived next to even the lesser tracks on the LP. I really hate to trash this retroactively, but in light of the easy grace that the band conjured up on their next releases, the stuff here feels awkward and unrealized. In short, there's no ease to the proceedings, everything feels forced from Mke Kinsella's overly high-pitched wails to the instrumentals' attempts at something more complex. It's he band finding its feet basically, nothing to be ashamed of but definitely not something I'd hold as highly as the LP either. [7.2/10]

Download link and image courtesy of A Wolf at the Door.

Mogwai: No Education = No Future (Fuck the Curfew) (Chemikal Underground)

Every change that Mogwai made between "Xmas Steps" here and "Christmas Steps" on Come On Die Young was for the better. That's not to say that as it was presented here it's bad per se - I mean, if this was the only remnant of the song ever recorded I'd be perfectly fine with it. But being confronted with it after already having "Christmas Steps" stamped onto my cerebellum it's easier to view it as a rough draft of one of Mogwai's best compositions. Hell, it's not even like the differences are all that drastic bar the big change in the second climax, where the lurching, feedback-punctuated sludge of this version is replaced with an actual discernible chord progression that's more distorted than the preceding guitars. In the end it's nice to have an embryonic version of the song, if only to demonstrate how pieces evolve in Mogwai's world; minor changes that result in a much better final product than even the fairly good demo versions could provide.

Outside of that, the EP contains a pair of shorter pieces that show the evolution that the band was going through at this point, between the more aggressive tone of Young Team and the tighter, more extravagant sound of Come on Die Young. More specifically, they showcase how vital pianist Barry Burns was becoming to their overall sound as they moved forward. Both "Rollerball" and "Small Children in the Background" feel like the band took stuff in the vein his solo pieces from Young Team and arranged it for the whole band this time around. The results still have Burns front and center, but feel much more complete and inclusive than their obvious predecessors. While neither is top shelf 'gwai material, they're damned good for what could just be written off as 'transitional' pieces. [8.4/10]

Dirty Three: Ufkuko (Bella Union)

Oddly enough, the two pieces here that feel the most like they were meant to go with Ocean Songs are the two that weren't actually on the bonus disc that came with that particular album. The three that were - the rollicking "To Aster!," the more jagged "Mihelkos Arm" and the accordion assisted "Cast Adrift" - all sound like the sort of thing you'd hear on Sad and Dangerous or the band's self-titled album; much harder and more upbeat than the meditative edge that took over on Ocean Songs. "Wish I Could" and "Three Wheels" on the other hand feel much more of a piece with the material that Dirty Three were pushing out at this point in their career. They're the sort of drawn out, evocative pieces that the band made its specialty after Horse Stories, not quite on the same level as Ocean Songs' stuff but certainly much more in line with it than the previous tracks. The oddity of what ended up where aside though, this actually feels like it's own release, much more so than the concurrently released Sharks EP. The gradual easing up that occurs as the EP progresses works very much in its favor, moving from the much more energetic and fiery "To Aster!" through to the much more languid and ethereal "Wish I Could" with a gradual decrease in energy that lets the whole EP hang together as a unit. [8.4/10]

The Seatbelts: Cowboy Bebop - Vitaminless (Victor)

  Disclaimer: I have never seen Cowboy Bebop. At all. It's one of those things that lingers on my mental 'Oh I should really watch that...' list, which is very much like my mental 'Oh I should really listen to that...' list in that there about five items I add for every one that I watch. So it's not something I will sit down with any time soon...but the music that I'm hearing from it has my interest even more piqued.

Specifically here we're talking about "The Real Folk Blues," which is equal parts pastiche of cheesy action show theme song and legitimately entertaining and layered song in its own right. It's and endlessly listenable song, one that seems to encompass all the other aspects brought in at various points on this EP - jazz, rock, humor - in one barnstormer of a 6 minute track. The rest of the material here isn't anywhere near that good, but it still paints enough of a picture - one confirmed by the full lengths that came out around the same time - of a composer and a set of musicians that are able to handle all manor of moods, styles and tones without any sense of strain. You want straight up jazz? Here's "Odd Ones" and "Cat on Mars." You want lounge music? "Piano Bar 1" coming right up. In the mood for some trip-hoppy French music? "Fantaisie Sign" looms on the horizon. It's an impressive array to cover in such a relatively short release, but unlike "Real Folk Blues," none of them reach that other level - OK, "Fantaisie Sign" comes damn close - that makes them classic material. [7.9/10]

5 Star Corner: Coil - Autumn Equinox (Amethyst Deceivers) (Eskaton)

I urge you to do the following:

1. Procure a copy of this EP. I won't tell you to shell out the 100$+ I've seen it go for on eBay - though it might almost be worth it - but get it somehow.

2. Turn off the lights.

3. Put on some headphones - good headphones - and hit play.

4. Close your eyes. Do NOT open them until the EP is over.

Why go through all this? Well, it's all about the experience with any Coil album, the process of letting the overall feeling of things enfold you and put you somewhere that you'd never think music can take you. This is especially true of the era that this EP fully ushers in after having it hinted at on the previous two Equinox/Solstice EPs: the Music to Play in the Dark era, or my favorite era of the band's output. The most moody, the most evocative, the most layered, the most transportative. Autumn Equinox might actually be the highlight of this particular model of the band; at the very least it's the most gently evocative 20 minute span that they can claim responsibility for, and that's definitely a feat for these guys.

The word that I keep coming back to when I think of this album is 'regal.' The mood may be gentle, but the execution is lush, opulent and full of splendor. "Rosa Decidua" lets a trio of vocals - one angelic, one sinister and one soulful - bounce off each other as if they're at opposite walls of a great hall, echoing over and through each other. The subsequent instrumentals are equally open, if that makes sense. I mean that they sound like they've got more breathing room than your average Coil nightmare piece - "Switches" in particular is full of powerful moments of near silence that punctuate the escalating intensity of the various odd sounds that the instrumentalists are throwing at you. It's a necessary breather before the much more grand and stunning "The Auto-Asphyxiating Hierophant," which even more so that "Rosa Decidua" plays with the openness of the EP's sound. At its core there's a sinister orchestral fanfare, around that, there's complimentary vocals coming from either side, and no matter what they're saying the message is that you should be afraid by now. That orchestral fanfare? It's coming for you on heavy feet that sound like they're getting closer. You should run now but you don't know where you are.

In this scope, the finale of "Amethyst Deceivers" represents a peaceful death. It's a stunning piece - even more so here than on The Ape of Naples - of effortless, soothing beauty as if to calm you down after the nightmare fuel of the previous track. Instead of telling you to be afraid, the vocals are now telling you that you'll be alright. The music is spare yet full, driven along by a simple upright bass and a meandering harpsichord that never quite become a unit, but somehow anchoring the track when put together. It's as free as the EP gets, never seeming to repeat itself but still getting to the hypnotic, lulling place that the calmer parts of the Music to Play in the Dark series occupied. And then it ends on a soothing yet spooky note with Jhonn Balance whispering the title while panning from one ear to the other. All in all it might be my favorite Coil track of all time, or at least the one I'm most likely to have played at my funeral. [9.6/10]

98 The Hard Way: EPs, Days 22-23

Hurl: We Are Quiet In This Room (My Pal God)

Any band can take some songs and throw them together on a CD. Any band can realize that those songs play better in a certain order. Very few bands go to the trouble of making the songs work together in such a way that they must be played in the order they've been laid out. Even fewer bands seem to compose songs with the express intent of them leading into each other in organic, meaningful ways. For this fact alone, Hurl win me over. They've gone to the trouble of making the loping, minimal "This Numbness" build into the frantic, angular "Test the Waters" in such a way that the two tracks are both inexorably connected and each their own entity. They've done this for pretty much the length of this EP, even including their cover of Nice Strong Arm's "Amnesia" in the tapestry, and they've made it sound effortless all the while.

This EP is a definite grower. At first I was just moderately respectful of both the band's chops and the sense of unity the EP had, but every subsequent listen has pulled out new things to be awed by. All this before it became more than obvious that the songs themselves were all great examples of extremely mathy indie rock, like what would happen if Minus the Bear's DNA was mixed with Don Caballero's. The two guitarists expertly wind around each other without stepping on toes, bassist Matt Jencik - sometime Don Cab member, and it shows - ably handles the more melodic playing over the guitars' scenery and while the drummer isn't a virtuoso he navigates and directs the changes with a nice, deft touch. I still wouldn't call this a sterling example of the form, but it's certainly one that keeps me coming back. [8.4/10]

The Azusa Plane: Cheltenham (Ochre)

If Cheltenham is anything like it is portrayed by Cheltenham, I don't think I'd put it on my travel itinerary whenever I get around to visiting England. This EP sounds like failure. It reeks of a dead industrial plant that used to provide jobs but has shut down and begat an unemployed massive. In the background, you can almost hear a child's spirit breaking as he realizes that he's stuck here forever. That's the level of detail that The Azusa Plane imbue this piece with. The beauty of it is that that detail is spawned from as few elements as possible; two heavily treated guitars occupy either channel and play very few notes, each is stuck against a stark drone. It's almost like the more minimalist-leaning pieces of Steven R. Smith's catalog, but played for depressing effect moreso than anything Smith's done, or Jackie-O Motherfucker if they were stripped down to just the guitar figures. Essentially, it's droney space rock with a heavy negative streak that rewards a close listen just as well as it fills the role of background music. That's as much as you can ask for with this type of thing, really. [8.2/10]

90 Day Men: 1975-1997-1978 (Temporary Residence)

I struggle with what to rate this one, honeslty. On it's own terms it's definitely upper-middle tier post-hardcore imbued math rock - think the intersection of Unwound and U.S. Maple - with fantastic bass playing and hints towards bigger, brighter things based on the ease with which it uses atmosphere. In the scope of what 90 Day Men would become shortly hereafter, once they brought on keyboardist Andy Lansangan and moved into much less abrasive waters, it's significantly lacking and utterly juvenile. So how to proceed? Do I rip into it for not being anything like the band that, quite frankly, I don't think they knew they could become, or do I set aside the future greatness and offer it praise for being what it is?

If the rating wasn't a big enough clue, I lean towards the latter quite decidedly in this case; regardless of how it fails to measure up to the twin triumphs of To Everybody and Panda Park, this doesn't even seem to be the work of the same band. This is a group of young, angry guys who worship at the altar of Steve Albini ("Streamlines and Breadwinners" couldn't sound more like Shellac if it tried) but have a nascent sense of songcraft that occasionally rubs against their more abrasive instincts ("My Trip to Venus" is incredibly catchy, especially that little guitar break in the chorus, for all its dissonance.)  They probably spent a bit of time digging through the Gravity Records back catalog ("Sweater Queen" calls to mind Clikitat Ikatowi until it builds up to that half-speed breakdown) but might have eyes towards Chicago-bred post rock even before they know how to harness that sound ("Sink Potemkin" and especially "Hey, Citronella!" seem to have appropriated an epic streak or two from that lot, even as they thrive on uncomfortable levels of abrasion.) It's a very young sounding release, but at the same time it's incredibly practiced and polished. It's of two minds, but never sounds like an identity crisis. It doesn't hint towards the melodic beauty that they'd unleash a few years later, but it works its own kind of magic within its own confines. [8.1/10]

Download link and image courtesy of Last Train to Cool.

Clinic: Cement Mixer (Aladdin's Cave of Golf)

If you look at them in the abstract, each of the first three Clinic singles follows a similar pattern; the A-side is usually a fairly energetic rocker while the two B-sides are some combination of a moody instrumental, an even more energetic punk approximation and a slow, atmospheric ballad. In the case of "Cement Mixer" the punkier number is eschewed leaving a pair of moody number on the B-side, but the title track is probably the hardest rocking of the A-sides from this period. "Cement Mixer" almost sounds like a reprise of the previous single's "D.P.," except it feels much more relentless. Everything from the driving guitar line to the vocal delivery seems to push the track onward at a relatively breakneck pace while still maintaining the hookiness that all three A-sides had in spades. It's nowhere near the perfection of "Monkey on Your Back, but it's easy to see why it's the one that led to their breakthrough.

The B-sides aren't as much of a letdown this time out, probably owing to the whole not having to live up to "Monkey on Your Back" thing. "Kimberly" especially seems like the blueprint for most of Clinic's better ballads from here on out - unsettling as fuck, but with a weirdly sweet undercurrent. "Voot" fills the instrumental requirement, and while it doesn't quite match "Evil Bill" in that department it's a nice enough way to end the single. [8.5/10]

Clinic: Monkey on Your Back (Aladdin's Cave of Golf)

Why is it that the way that Ade Blackburn snarls the word 'nervous' during the first verse makes it sound so damned unnerving? Is it the scuzzy, VU-ish organ backdrop? The delivery, with that first syllable extended to the perfect point to induce spine tingles? Is it just that the whole song is so weirdly engrossing yet unbearably tense that every word carries menace not exactly inherent to it? Whatever it is, every time he says it, my back feels like it's been bombarded with tiny shards of ice. That's what one word does in this song.

So yeah, without extending myself into further hyperbole, "Monkey on Your Back" is absolutely perfect. It's perfect in the macro, it's perfect down to the tiniest details, like that bass swoop that kicks in during the second verse then becomes part of the main riff for the third, or the weird 'frame missing' vibe that the instruments dropping out before the third verse lends to the song. It's not the first time the Clinic showed just how good they could be - "Porno" was equally noteworthy if not as perfect - but it's the first time they hit the nail right on the head without any reservations. It's their mission statement, really: take Spectorian grandeur, add Velvet Underground abrasion, let the atmosphere do the rest. Really, even if the rest of this single was utter gash there's no way that I could hand it less than 4 stars.

Luckily though, both of the B-sides deliver even if it's on a much lesser scale than the A-side. "Evil Bill" in particular re-affirms the band's ease with mood and atmosphere as it takes about half the running time of most post-rock tracks to develop a similarly deep reserve of mood and tension. "D.T." is much more slight than either of its bookends, but in terms of displaying the band's versatility it does a decent job of showing how well they take to noisier material while still retaining their core Spectorian vibe. Neither lives up to the standard that "Monkey" sets, but both are integral parts of the band's canon nonetheless. [9.1/10]

Download link courtesy of Amor Louco. Contains the full self-titled compillation with all three of Clinic's early singles.

Tintoretto: The Sound of Someone You Love Who Is Leaving...And It Doesn't Really Matter (Highwater)

Ever wished that someone would take the Shotmaker / Max Colby split and combine the two sides into one EP? If so, your wish is Tintoretto's command. They've taken Shotmaker's aggression and drive and married it to Max Colby's tight, intricate playing and math-rock inclinations, essentially giving you the best of both worlds in one fairly excellent package. It's far from being at their influence's quality level for the whole 21 minutes, but there are moments, particularly on the raging, intense "Rifle Merit Badge" and at various points during the two longer numbers, that suggest that had they kept going long enough they might have gotten there eventually. What's here is good enough to keep around though, definitely an overlooked entry in the later day emocore scene. [8.0/10]

Dowload link courtesy of Wisconsin Sickness.

Clikatat Ikatowi: River of Souls (Gravity)

I don't know what exactly it is about this particular release that catches my fancy while the rest of Clikitat's discography never did much for me. At any rate, this release basically stations Clikitat Ikatowi as the Public Image Ltd. of the San Diego hardcore scene. The guitars are icy and distant, the bass is warm and almost dubby, the drumming is amazing - Mario Rubalcaba can be a beast when the mood strikes him - and most importantly, the songs are intricate without being too proud of that fact. Take closer "Pleiadian Dance" for example; it winds through about a half dozen themes, all in different times and tempos, but it doesn't call attention to that fact the way a lot of math-rock inclined bands do, it just feels like that's the way the song should logically go. At the same time though, it almost feels like they're holding back to some degree. "The Appliance" feels incomplete, like they had another 4 minutes of material that went with what was presented but just decided to cut it off. Likewise, there are a few tracks that hint towards a much heavier jazz influence than they ever manage to show, like the shuffling rhythm of "Ramble on Candywrappers" or the drumming on any given track - like I said, Rubalcaba's among the best drummers I've heard in this type of band. That restraint stops this short of being a necessity unfortunately. It's a big step up for the band - just as they dissolved, natch - but it feels like it could have gone even farther and been even better. [7.9/10]

Download link and image courtesy of Shiny Grey Monotone.

Three Mile Pilot: Three Mile Pilot (Gravity)

 While the rest of Three Mile Pilot's output post-Another Desert seemed much geared towards where the various members were heading afterwards, this EP finds them looking decidedly backwards. I'm not just talking about the elegaic cover of Brian Eno's "By This River," though that is a highlight here, but the material here feels very much like it was meant to come in between Chief Assassin and Another Desert. "Worry" especially feels like a transitional piece, working both the unsettling, cold aggression of the former and the art-pop of the latter simultaneously to glorious, if slightly muddled effect. "Wahn" has it's toes even further back in to Assassin territory, almost dropping the piano that became so integral to the band's sound towards the end of its run. Really, this functions more as the last gasp of Three Mile Pilot before the main members started to lay out their post-break up course, and while it's not as consistent a farewell as I might have hoped for - it's probably their least unified release overall - it still manages enough quality material to keep from breaking the streak of 4-star level greatness that the band ran with through their whole first run.

Oh, and "On a Ship to Bangladesh" is the least 3MP thing they've ever done, and it's also awesome in all its cheesiness. Not a highlight so much as an interesting side-trek that merits note. [8.2/10]

Jaga Jazzist: Magazine (Smalltown Supersound)

 Given how much they'd refine, expand and improve upon the ideas that show up here, it's easy to write off Magazine as the embryonic stages of what would become one of, if not the, most interesting and forward thinking jazz ensembles of modern times. Really, you'd be half right to ignore this and go straight to A Livingroom Hush - the electronics that would become their trademark isn't fully integrated into their sound, the music is nowhere near as dynamic and multifaceted and they throw in a random, incredibly forgettable slice of singer-songwriter piffle in the form of "seems to Me" that sticks out like a sore thumb. But at the same time, this gives context to the greatness that came only a couple of years later. You can look at this less as a piece of the puzzle than as a rough draft. I can easily picture the core members looking at this after it was completed and parsing out exactly where they got it right - "Serafin i Junglen," most of "Swedish Take Away" - and what just didn't work - "Seems to Me," the overly repetitive first couple of tracks - before starting up on their next album. In that light it makes sense, but as it is it's a flawed first step for one of the most reliably forward looking group of the last decade and a bit. [7.6/10]

5 Star Corner: Fridge - Orko (Output)

Choose chaos. Choose to let Keiran Hebden indulge in a couple of minutes of Branca-worship towards the end of the otherwise staid groove of "Distance." Choose to let free jazz interludes take over the mix of "Jessica." Choose to let things run wild.

This EP is a minor masterpiece of post-rock as it should be, not post-rock as it is. The tracks here are held down by impeccable grooves courtesy of the band's rhythm section but not dictated solely by their whims. Each of the tracks has room to breathe, room to let the trio's various odd whims run wild. These pieces are fluid, unrestrained compositions that have the intimacy and unpredictability of a live jam session. Every time I think that a given track will keep going in one direction, stay the course laid by Adem Ilhan's impeccable bass grooves and Sam Jeffers' precise time keeping, a new element pops into the mix to drag it away from that course.

Take "Distance as the template for this; starting out with a simple, hypnotic groove it abruptly devolves into arrhythmic jazz for a few minutes, destroying the established rhythm only to have it resurrect itself with just as little fanfare as it was dropped with. Not all the tracks are as self-destructively inclined as that - "Jessica" skips the formality of an establishing groove altogether - but that sort of unpredictability permeates the whole release, keeping the listener on edge while never giving the impression that these guys don't know what they're doing. It's a tough balance to pull off, but Fridge at this point in their evolution had mastered it.

I think the biggest thing in the pro-column for this EP is that you can hear the trio getting as bored with post-rock as a lot of listeners became not too long after this. You can hear the restlessness, the desire to branch out beyond the sound they'd established on Semaphore being channeled into some exceedingly creative directions. In other words, it's the sound of a band destroying the box they'd been placed in, carefully hinting at the dancier direction they'd take on their next releases without fully revealing it while forcing their way through jazz to get there. Listening to the evolution of Fridge through their 1998 releases alone is like watching Neu become Squarepusher over the course of 90 minutes. It's not the direction I might have expected to hear them take, but the results make for one of the best strings of releases that the whole post-rock scene has to offer. [9.5/10]

98 The Hard Way: EPs, Days 19 and 20

Arab Strap: Afternoon Soaps (Chemikal Underground)

The reason I think I find Philophobia to be a bit of a slog on the whole is that it gets lost in its own world towards the end, becoming more insular without ever quite drawing me in. It's a function of its length more than anything, so it makes a lot of sense that the EPs that surround it fare a lot better, or at least call for more repeated listening, than the album itself. Here, for instance, you could say you're getting more of the same, even reprising one of the album's highlights in "Soaps," but the end result is that 15 minutes worth is easier to stomach than a full hour. It also helps that a great deal of the time is spent letting Malcolm Middleton shine over Aidan Moffat's rambling misery. The last part of "Forest Hills" especially reminds me why Middleton is one of my stealth favorite guitarists; it's one riff repeated over and over for 5 minutes, but each recurrence has these subtle differences - a stray note here, a seeming miss-hit there - that give the track a strange new layer to its already hypnotic atmosphere. It's a distinctly human element of their sound that often cuts against the inhuman, programmed drumming to give the tracks life in an unexpected way. It's almost too bad that such a great example of what the band are capable of when things turn out right shares space with an overly maudlin re-imagining of "Soaps" though. There was a bit of a miscalculation in the decision to ramp up the drama of the song when its charm lay in its deliberate small scale. "Toy Fights" fares much better, borrowing the riff from Mogwai's "Summer (Priority Version)" to back up a sweet duet about the joys of simply vegging out for an afternoon with your woman. It's a nice touch to have the overlapping 'you' and 'I' halves of the song deviate form each other so frequently while maintaining the same overall lyrics for both. [8.1/10]

!!!: The Dis-Ease (Sound Virus)

Given how far they've come from this little 7" in addition to how under-known it is, it's easy to forget that !!! once had their toes much, much further into the punk side of dance-punk than the other way around. Of course, given the fact that the backbone of the band - vocalist Nic Offer, Guitarist Tyler Pope and drummer Mike Gius - were recently the core of The Yah Mos, a strict post-hardcore outfit, the punkier shades of this single don't come as much of a surprise. What might come as a surprise though is just how well they pull it off. Both of the songs here are miles ahead of anything that The Yah Mos did, seamlessly fusing the energy of that outfit with funkier bass playing, well deployed saxophone and trumpet and a much improved sense of structure. "The Dis-Ease" in particular benefits from the latter, threatening to collapse through two chorus of off-kilter, herky-jerky guitar rhythms before it pulls itself into focus fora minute or so, the rebuilds itself back to its former chaos all without losing an ounce of energy. Plus there's all manner of colourful detail at various points - that panning guitar that punctuates the choruses should not work, but it's always mildly exhilarating to hear - which give the song endless replayability. "The Funky Branca" is much more straightforward and melodic, though no less invigorating. I could swear that I almost hear tinges of (very white) afrobeat in the chorus, with the tandem trumpet and sax stabs between spiky, clean guitar rhythms, though once again the band pulls that into chaos as the chorus finishes (kinda like the descent at the end of the theme in "Theme de Yoyo" and yes I am comparing !!! to Art Ensemble of Chicago deal with it). It's too bad that they shed this side of their sound almost immediately because while their later material may be much more polished very little of it is this immediate and forceful. [8.3/10]

The Gloria Record: The Gloria Record (Crank!)

  'I just want something beautiful to happen here'

When I was doing my initial toe-dip into emo a few years back one of the biggest disappointments I'd come across was Mineral's two albums. I know, 'sacrilege!' 'heretic!' blah blah blah, but there was a fundamental disconnect between the band as they were sold to me and the band I finally heard. The big turn off was the vocals though, something about Chris Simpson's drawn out phrasings and overall dramatics just rubbed the wrong way against the music. So when I finally got around to hearing his second band, The Gloria Record, I was a bit apprehensive. Luckily though, the band here seems to understand what kind of music is needed to compliment and elevate Simpson's vocals; give it a lighter touch, a more acoustic base and a hell of a lot of room to build and recede. Essentially, make the music as dramatic and sweeping as the vocals could be.

It's obvious from the first short track here that I'd be much kinder to this band than I was to Mineral, but it's not until the grandiose, 8 minute centerpiece of "Torch Yourself" that it was obvious just how much of an improvement I was witnessing. The song couldn't be simpler on its surface, a basic acoustic rhythm with some light electric riffs over top, but as it moves along it gains so much urgency that the eventual climax - one of the best in the genre for my money - feels appropriately epic, not unearned at all. None of the other tracks reach that height again, but they carve out a nice little sound, halfway between Lullaby for the Working Class' chamber folk and standard indie emo a la Emo Diaries. Most importantly though, the sound fits with Simpson's vocals perfectly. The drawn out vowels he favors glide effortlessly over the heavy acoustic rhythms and slight riffs in a way that they rarely did in his previous band. Hell, the one track here that feels most Mineral-esque, the headlong rush of "Grain Towers, Telephone Poles," is the one moment I find most problematic on the whole release, and even that is tempered by the fact that it retains the core sound of the rest of the EP while trying to apply it to a more driving tempo - though to be fair, the climactic cut off is excellently handled. It's almost as though Simpson and fellow Mineral alum Jeremy Gomez understood the problems I saw in their previous band and gathered this group of musicians to go about correcting them, and in the process created something beautiful and lush in ways that Mineral could only dream of reaching. [8.6/10]

5 Star Corner: Lifter Puller - The Entertainment and Arts (Threatening Letters)

'She says it's great getting high
She says it's lame to get fried'

"Plymouth Rock" is, appropriately, the touchstone for everything Craig Finn did in Lifter Puller. It's the microcosm of the insular world that he's created, part The Rules of Attraction, part getting drunk on words, and it takes less than a minute to go by. Yet in that glorious 49 seconds everything gets laid up as bare as the verbose style can accommodate. The boundaries that his protagonists can never keep within, the reasons for their constant excess - think of it as a prologue to the whole Lifter Puller mythology.

Actually, think of The Entertainment and Arts as the Readers Digest version of that mythology; it gets the broad strokes right, the world of college/high school kids who live party-to-party and get in over their heads as they get deeper into the scene, but skimps on the specifics. Hell, there's only one song of the six that mentions any of Finn's catalogue of recurring players by name, and that's a re-recording of a song from the bands' debut ("Star Wars Hips.") For a guy who spent this band's whole recorded output Tarantino-ing the tale of Juanita, Special K, Nightclub Dwight, Eyepatch Guy etc. seems especially stingy, but it also gives a bit more detail to the scene itself. There's shoutouts to the unsung denizens of the various locales ("Let's Get Incredible" - apparently built on a joke Finn made about recording a rap album that was 100% shoutouts), details on the anonymous sex at foam parties ("Roaming the Foam") and even a one-off character study for someone who doesn't show up anywhere else in the band's mythlogy ("Sangre de Stephanie.") Essentially, by forgoing the specifics it gives additional depth to the world Finn had spent two albums populating prior to this, which is a very neat trick especially when coupled with the fact that, on the whole, this might just be the best - well, most consistent - release in the LP canon.

In keeping with the idea that this is a summary of what LP are all about, it manages to cover a lot of ground with relative ease. On a lyrical level you've got all the touchstones deftly checked off by the end of "The Candy Machine and My Girlfriend" - 80s pop culture references, abundant assonance, parallel structure in lieu of/enhancing repetition, Finn sounding he's getting drunk off each successive syllable when he gets into a run...other than ignoring the meta-narrative it's exactly what you expect at this point. There's also the usual bounty of Finn's bon mots and gift for strings of words that just sound perfect together - 'My advice is to dye your eyes and stay inside' especially seems like the best set of words ever assembled by anyone - in addition to actually making sense as a sentence. "Sangre de Stephanie" might even be the best set of lyrics that Finn ever wrote, almost reading like a short character study more than a song. It's also as good a place to comment on the band displaying a greater sense of composition on here than they had previously, "Nassau Coliseum" excepted, letting the song flow perfectly from jagged post-punk to near silence back to full on rock out mode in response to the progress of Finn's lyrics. So not only does the album do everything you expect a Lifter Puller album to do, it manages to do some of them better than they had before. [9.4/10]

98 The Hard Way: EPs, Days 17-19

Coil: Spring Equinox (Moon's Milk or Under an Unquiet Skull) (Eskaton)

Spring might actually be my least favorite season if I were to rank these things. It could just be that the comedown from winter in my particular area is quite harsh and uneven - this year alone we've had 3 thaw outs that then refroze making the roads extra hazardous - but more than that, it's a transitional season. One where you can't go out and do much. It's too damp to start thinking about a game of touch football with your friends or softball. Outdoor volleyball's out of the question unless you like frequently slipping onto partly frozen ground. It's the one season where it's possible to feel stuck inside - the weather's nice on the surface, but underneath it's not ready for you to do much with it.

Coil get that feeling. The first of their 4 Equinox/Solstice EPs is the most uniquely foreboding, the most claustrophobic. The mix is simple and uncluttered, letting the usual elements of this era of Coil have ample room to breathe and resonate, which pays off wonderfully in the second part when William Breeze's acoustic guitar and violin enter the mix to add a soaring melody yet can't stop the tension that's been built up for the previous ten minutes or so. Jhonn Blanace's vocals are used as an unsettling underlayer to the mix, swirling around Peter Chrisopherson's ambient synth pads like a ghost in the machine. The pump organ that acts as a hook to both parts is just as haunting, sounding like a relic of a time long past that can't bear to never be heard again. Everything comes together in a quietly unsettling package, like a microcosm of all the things that would make the Musick to Play in the Dark LPs so wonderfully frightening. It may not sound like spring in the classic sense, but it captures something about the season that I can relate to; this is a season where you can't quite get to doing what you wish you were doing. This is the one season where you are trapped. [8.9/10]

Download link courtesy of The Pop Stalinist. Contains the full series of Equinox/Solstice EPs, all of which are worth your time and the others of which I'll be discussing a bit later.

Modest Mouse: Other People's Lives (Up)

This one's a moderate disappointment. Think about it, all the other Lonesome Crowded West-adjacent singles were either epic, godly or at least featured one utterly transcendent moment. This one tries to have a bit of each in it, but it fails a bit. Neither "Other People's Lives" no "Grey Ice Water" are as good as they want to be. The former is too long without any of the interesting rhythmic flourishes that a lot of MM's longer tracks did, the latter is too slight and ephemeral to make any sort of impression. Both have their good elements - the harmony vocals on "Grey Ice Water" and the feedback rhythm of "Other People's Lives" - but they don't do enough with them to really cause me to consider either song a winner on any particular level. They're still good songs, but when the band had been on such a roll leading up to this one it stands out like a bit of a black mark by stopping there and not making the leap into being extraordinary. [7.7/10]


Third Eye Foundation: Fear of a Wack Planet (Domino)

Think of this as a step into the light. After the suffocating darkness of Ghost it's only logical that Matt Elliott might make overtures towards a slightly less downtrodden sound, and while this is still in his moderately foreboding wheelhouse it's infinitely sunnier than the material that came before. Part of that comes from it being much, much less oppressive in its darkness. Ghost was a suffocating album, one where any time you thought you'd found a patch of sunlight, Elliott would conjure up a cloud to mask it before you noticed. This EP though is much more open and dare I say inviting. The elements of Elliott's sound are still there, but there's space between them this time out. The trip-hoppy percussion skitters where it used to crash. The melodies that used to crawl along like they'd just washed down their uppers with Nyquil here soar almost angelically, be they the choral vocals o nthe title track or the string loop on the extended take of You Guys Kill Me's "A Galaxy of Scars." The atmosphere that used to roll in like a dense fog is reduced to a fine mist. And yet at its heart this couldn't be anything but a Third Eye Foundation release. It's still foreboding, but it forebodes with a much more subtle touch than previously. [8.4/10]

The Beta Band: Los Amigos del Beta Bandidos (Regal)

 This is probably the most overlooked of The Three EPs. I can understand why at least; if you're listening to the whole compilation it's the final set of songs, and since there's no real stand out track here there's nothing to draw you into it the way that "Dry the Rain" did for the Champion Versions section or "Inner Meet Me" did for The Patty Patty Sound. I know that when I first got The Three EPs none of these songs stood out no matter how I approached them, but in the end that becomes their charm to me. This is the most unassuming of the set, I guess. The one that goes about its business with a sort of quiet, professional confidence that doesn't need those big moments to assert itself. It's by far the most consistent of the set too, not having a high point as towering as "Dry the Rain" that the rest will never reach, nor a point as low as "The Monolith" to drag it to a halt. On its own it's probably the most fully realized EP of the bunch too, much more unified than Champion Versions but much less one-note than Patty Patty Sound. All that's a way to say that it's definitely better than many would give it credit for on first go round. Each listen makes it rise a little bit in my estimation, and while I doubt it will ever usurp Champion Versions as my favorite of The Three EPs, the much more subtle joys it offers are well worth revisiting. [8.4/10]

Boredoms: Super Roots 7 (Warner Music Japan)

Step One: Don't think of the remixes as such, think of them as the build up (EWE) and comedown (EYE) necessary to make the centerpiece (Boriginal) have the impact that it does. Think of the EP as one 33 minute piece, not a mammoth, all destroying 21 minute slice of manna from Yamatsuka Eye's heaven bookended by pointless remixes thereof. I won't ever claim that they're teh best parts of the EP, but I will also never claim that they aren't essential to my enjoyment of it.

Step Two: Know your context, part one. The concept of this release pulls it into focus a bit. It's one riff, explored for all its worth for 33 minutes. That riff, from Mekons' "Where Were You" pops up in various contexts, forms and variations over the course of the EP, but it's never not recognizable. The core repetition announces itself quite clearly, but the variance therein gives the release an out from being dismissed as too one-note. It's almost like the original song was handed to bands as diverse as Neu, Boards of Canada, Talking Heads and Sick of It All to cover, themn those covers were played sequentially by Boredoms as they would interpret them. Yet for all the jarring changes of pace and mood it plays out as a unified piece. Quite an achievement, really.

Step Three: Know your context, part two. Think about where this falls in the Boredoms chronology; they've just released Super Ae, which was a big departure from the noisy, ADHD punk of their early material (and even from the refinement thereof that gave us Pop Tatari) into the fields of rhythm heavy nirvana. After that would come Vision Creation Newson, which might be the most trance-inducing album ever made by humans. This is the bridge between the two, taking the somewhat rudderless exploration of Ae and giving it a focal point. The results from the basis for what the band would do on VCN; go far afield but keep it all in focus and tied to something tangibly of that song.

Step Four: Listen to it on headphones. Like with all later period Boredoms, this is the key. [8.7/10]

Can Can Heads: The Formation of Oxen With Fire (Bad Vugum)
Putting it bluntly, this EP sounds like shit. It's impossible to describe the sound of this particular release without the descriptor 'as recorded on a late 70s model tape deck' being tacked on to any sort of comparison point. Those comparison points, however help redeem the whole endeavor; it's obvious from the first blast of "Happy Birthday Jesus" that these guys studied their Dog Faced Hermans and Contortions albums about as diligently as they could before they recorded anything, and that dedication to the right influences gives even the most tape-hiss addled, overly trebly moment of this release a high enough base value that the irritation of the recording method is minimized somewhat. It also helps that the recording style has a bit more charm in this context than in most others. Noisy no-wave is one of the few genres out there where horrible recording quality can come close to enhancing the experience, and on a particularly forgiving day I might even say that the 6 songs here benefit from the lack of production value - "Deep Bed Granular" especially has a high degree of grit in this circumstance that makes it bite a bit more than might be expected in a better recorded format. So let it be said that even I, who rails against the purposeful fucking up of a recording by means of tape deck recording, can find a circumstance where I'm grateful for its presence. Just barely. [7.7/10]

98 The Hard Way: EPs, Day 16

Modest Mouse and 764-HERO: Whenever You See Fit (Up/Suicide Squeeze)

Collaboration is all about filling in the gaps. Think about any group project you've ever been a part of: each individual brings something different to the table, and if you've got a good group the things that each person brings fill in the things that others in the group lack. So why is it that most musical collaborations don't take full advantage of this phenomenon. Most of the time you wind up with either two bands that are so similar that in the end they just wind up basically doubling each other, or two artists who only really engage in collaborating at one level or another as opposed to fully integrating into a new band as it were. Perhaps the disappointment I have with collaborations rarely working ideally is what makes me so enamored by "Whenever You See Fit," but that's still only part of it - even without the more collaboration-y flourishes there's a great composition at the song's heart that even a straight run through would reveal.

There are two ways that the collaboration aspect elevates the song though . Most importantly, there's the way that each of the 6 members involved here fill in the gaps that they perceive, mainly because it's like they were already tailor made for the purpose they wind up serving in the final song. Both bands have their strengths and their weaknesses when compared to each other - yes, I'm saying that Modest Mouse at their peak had weaknesses, deal with it fanboys - but they're much more complimentary in that sense than I might have imagined. Isaac Brock may have a unique style of guitar playing and an equally unique and expressive vocal style, but both can come off as overly unhinged and without context. John Atkins' guitar and vocal styles aren't unique or particularly noteworthy, but he's got much more of a keen melodic edge than Brock. Polly Johnson is a competent time-keeper who goes about her duties with minimal flourish - think Meg White if she could use the whole kit consistently - while Jeremiah Green is occasionally so much about the flourishes that the beat is only ever implied (note: this is one of his best assets in my eyes, but for the sake of this discussion let's pretend it's not.) Both Eric Judy and James Bertram are great bassists, but the bands they spend their time with use them in such different ways that when they come together it results in a much more complete - and huge sounding - bass presence. That's the key word for the way that the two bands work together here: complete. They complete the picture that has gaps of varying sizes when they only have their part.

The other way that the collaboration benefits the end result is that the sound is much, much bigger than either band on its own. It's not just the doubled instruments, though that does help a lot, but there's a sense of epicness to the song that I don't think 764-HERO or Modest Mouse ever achieved on their own. That's certainly saying a lot w/r/t MM since they had an epic streak of their own to contend with, but at this point that streak resulted in much more fractured wholes that the one on display here. I think of this as what a song like "Trucker's Atlas" wanted to be but didn't quite get to: a cohesive, 14 and a half minute piece that feels like it could go on for at least five more minutes without wearing out its welcome. Just listen to how smoothly the song moves from each part to the next, the way that the false ending and re emergence flows so logically...these are moves that so many post-rock bands fail miserably to realize yet here we have a one-off collaboration between two indie rock bands that gets them almost effortlessly on the first go round. That's the reason I love this song so much in a nutshell; it gets everything right without sounding like it worked to get there. Effortless genius is hard to pull off convincingly, so I can't help but reward it when it happens.

I'm not mentioning the remixes in too much detail because that's not the point here. sure in the scope of the complete release they should be talked about but as far as I'm concerned they're not a detriment or an asset. If anything they highlight the reasons that he original works so well as its own entity by isolating and amplifying certain aspects of it on their own, so they can't really ruin the release the way that some people would claim they do. They give context to the preceding 14 and a half minutes, and that's a valuable thing. [9.3/10]
 
Burning Witch: Rift.Canyon.Dreams (Merciless)

It makes a lot of sense that the compilation collecting this and the Towers 12" was one of the first releases from Southern Lord Records. You can pretty much hear the beginnings of most of their flagship acts in Burning Witch, though like many beginnings the steps are a bit unsure. The ideas are much better realised here than on Towers, mostly because these ideas plant the seeds from which Khanate would grow a few years later as opposed to just sounding likea more fully realized version of O'Malley's previous band Thorr's Hammer. The Khanate similarities come down mostly to the vocals, and while Edgy 59 (why would anyone refer to themselves by that name?) is a long way from Alan Dubin's unique yelping he goes for that same uncomfortable place, making the vocals as ugly as he can to compliment the heavy, bludgeoning backdrop. It's definitely a step in the right direction for all involved though, O'Malley's gradually getting more varied in his guitar playing - check out the spacey interlude from "Stillborn" - and while the people he's surrounded with here aren't as great as the one's he'd find for his next few projects they fit with the more Sabbath-y aesthetic on display here quite well. [8.1/10]

Download link and image courtesy of Angry Chairs Redux.
 
Dirty Three: Sharks (Anchor and Hope)

The comedown from Horse Stories still retains enough of the scope and aggression that makes it my favorite Dirty Three release. Given that of the four tracks here only one is truly 'new' material - the stately "Two Am" - it's debatable whether it should be thrown in the 'odds n sods' compilation bin or not, but the material here is definitely worth looking into if you're a fan of the band. Specifically, the demo of "Hope" here is close to usurping the final version in my affections, if only for the uniformly squeaky violin line finally coming into focus in the final few runthroughs, and the live version of "Running Scared" with Nick Cave is exactly as great as it sounds like it would be on paper. "Two Am" and "Obvious Is Obvious," rescued from their split with Low from the previous year, are quality side-takes from this era too, not quite in the same mold as Horse Stories but a ways away from the calming landscapes of Ocean Songs yet. So yeah, stopgap measure or not it's a nice little release to have around. [8.2/10]

Saturnus: For the Loveless Lonely Nights (Euphonius)

This barely qualifies as metal if you ask me. I'm not saying that as a good thing or a bad thing, just an observation. I mean, sure, there's a bit of death growling on "Starres," but outside of that the new material on here reminds me more of a slightly doomier, not blessed by female vocals version of any number of Projekt Records artists from this time frame than any even borderline metal artist. Maybe that's for the best though, I have yet to hear the band's debut album, but the live tracks from it on here don't get me as excited to explore it upon re-listen as they did initially. They're essentially second tier My Dying Bride tunes, not bad bad but certainly not as intriguing as the new material here. Most intriguing is closer "Consecration," which may feel like a one-off experiment moreso than a definitive change of direction, but the results show much more potential within the band than their earlier material might have hinted at. Outside of that, "Starres" uses textbook metal growls to punctuate a nice, moody and gothic tune quite effectively, and both "For Your Demons" and "Thou Art Free" forego traditional vocals for straight up recitation over similar backdrops. It's tangentially metal-ish, but whether you like it or not might have more to do with how you feel about Lycia et al than how you feel about My Dying Bride. [7.5/10]

Tarentel: Tarentel (Temporary Residence)

What would happen if post rock bands never quite got to the 'rock' part of the equation? The more I listen to Tarentel's early material, the more I think that that was their primary mission statement: Take this whole post-rock thing that's developing and rob it of its logical endpoint. This is an EP that's all about holding back, never letting the pieces hit their climax even when that seems to be all that's left for them to do. Yet for all the implications that that might raise about the music, it never feels like a tease. The pieces are designed from the get go to be wholly satisfying as pure build up, developing a full-blown hypnotic quality in only a few minutes that any drastic change in volume would only mess up. Essentially, the band are subverting the expectations of their presumed genre, edging closer to Labradford's immersive ambient rock than to something like Mogwai. The sparseness and subtlety are its greatest assets, whether they explore them meditatively as on the fist track or in a more upbeat manner as on the second track. The highest compliment that can be paid to this one is that the 30 or so minutes it takes to listen to it go by much more quickly than I ever expect. [8.5/10]

98 The Hard Way: EPs, Days 14 and 15

Melt-Banana: Dead Spex (HG Fact)

Another thing about chaos without context; in some instances it can work. In some instances it can work really well. Case in point: the longest song on this EP is 71 seconds long. The whole EP goes by in less than 5 minutes. And yet even after it's over it leaves its mark, maybe even better than some of M-B's other releases from this time. Somewhere between Agata's less-guitar-sounding-than-usual playing - half the time it seems like he's trying to replicate turntable scratching on his guitar and succeeding - Yako's as-unhinged-as-usual vocals, and the necessarily solid rhythm section that's necessary when you're courting 200 bpm at every turn it coalesces into as cohesive a statement as you'd expect from this incarnation of Melt-Banana. That statement may be 'We are the poster kids for leaving ADD untreated,' but it's a statement nonetheless. [7.4/10]

Braid / Burning Airlines: Split 7" (Polyvinyl)

The things that both bands do to their respective covers here are at once welcome yet slightly off. Braid, for instance, take the upbeat Naked Eyes version of "Always Something There to Remind Me" and slow it down enough so that it avoids being a flat out ballad but enough that it feels a bit...well, awkward. And yet at the same time that's a bit of its appeal, the drum patterns seeming to fumble along while perfectly keeping time, the synth lead being transferred to the bass, the fact that they're a good enough math-rock band to make straight 4/4 time feel alien and off-kilter. It's textbook Braid in that respect: finding the most awkward way to be normal, leaving me with mixed feeling while still coming away a bit in their favor. Burning Airlines fare better with Echo and the Bunnymen's "Back of Love," but while they retain a lot of the original's spirit they also smooth it over a bit. The vocals are robbed of their increasing urgency as the song progresses - one of the best things about the original - instead opting for a slightly more melodic variant of J. Robbins' usual vocals. It's a case where neither band lives up to the original, but they do enough to make it their own that i can't fault them too much, even if I'm less than likely to dig out these versions all that often. [7.6/10]


Arovane: i.o. (DIN)

I can't quite figure out how to approach this one. On one hand, this is decent enough, low key IDM that seems to have a nice understanding of how to give the mechanical, impersonal sounds at its core a bit of life. On the other hand, it sounds pretty much exactly like a somnambulent Autechre EP, without a hint of the personality that later Arovane material would develop. Looking at it from either angle, it's easy to see where the improvements are to be made. This is very, very definitely a first step and does very little to hide that fact...hell it almost sounds like the embodiment of your friend saying 'I've just made this song on my laptop, let me know what I can do to make it better.' In that light I have a lot more respect for it than I usually have for the blatantly derivative, but it still falls into that classification and the respect I have for it doesn't cloud over that fact. [6.9/10]
 
Three Mile Pilot: The House Is Loss (Paralogy)

Note: The link goes to the obsessively detailed Pukekos post with all the late peiod 3MP singles as ripped from vinyl as opposed to me ripping the songs from my copy of Songs From an Old Town We Once Knew. They're good quality rips, so enjoy.

 If "In This Town I Awaken" (from the split with Boilermaker) was the last step on the journey of 3MP, this 7" is the penultimate step, and it's surprisingly one of their better singles. It's got the sort of weirdly spiky, angular art pop edge of early Pinback tethered to the newfound instrumental expanse that was hinted at in the best moments of Another Desert, another Sea, which basically hints towards the direction that both halves of the band would go in after their disbandment. It also makes great use of what I call the "Paralyzed" guitar tone, the bright, bitingly cold tone that Andy Gill dialed in for Gang of Four's best moment, especially in contrast with the full-bodied distorted rhythm guitar in the chorus sections of "The House Is Loss." "The Silver Monkey Syndicate" is almost as good, though it feels a bit more like it belonged between Chief Assassin and Another Desert in terms of tone it still has more than a little of Pinback's spike to it, and that's always welcome far as I'm concerned. All in all though, it's nice to see that even in their final recordings (prior to their recent reformation of course) 3MP managed to remain the most consistent band of the 90s. Honestly, I have a hard time thinking of any other band from that decade that I can pull out any given release and have it satisfy me anywhere near as much as the average 3MP release can, and this one's no exception. [8.3/10]