In this ever-expanding musical world, there’s a wealth of 7-inches, cassettes, CD-Rs, and objet d’art being released that, due to their limited quantities and adventurous sonics, go unnoticed by the public at large. TMT Cerberus seeks to document the aesthetic of these home recorders and backyard labels. Email us here.
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Variations for Oud & Synthesizer [7-inch]
[No; 2010]
By Jspicer
Leave it up to sonic explorer Keith Fullerton Whitman to effortlessly combine the mechanisms of synthesizer with the Middle Eastern strains of the Egyptian Oud. The resulting 7-inch is two quick sides of futuristic nostalgia. Like the crazed philosophers who dare to dream the pyramids as creations of alien life forms, Whitman puts these ideas into sound. Admittedly, one can’t help but sense a bit of a Faltermeyer/Hammer undertone to the oud/synth combo, skewing the hypotheses of mad scientists into space-age cop chases in the midst of desert winds, UFOs, and anal probes. No matter the hyperbole attached to KFW’s latest, this combination of exotic strings with lunar technology may be just as sacred and questionable as the holy lands. Where did it come from? Is Whitman a life form of this orb?
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Ragged and Right [12-inch]
[Thrill Jockey; 2010]
http://www.thrilljockey.com
By Jspicer
The untimely death of Jack Rose left a gaping hole in the folk scene, as former residents long packed up the cats and moved to more peculiar environs. But before Rose parted the physical world for the spiritual, he tagged teamed with country folk’s brightest beacon, Dave Shuford, and the duo cranked out four twanged jams that suckle at the teats of Delta blues, Wild West ragtime, and backwood country-grass. The assault is relentless, from the Vernon Wray (brother of Link)-penned “Prison Song” and its dark veneer through the Merle Haggard heartbreaker “The Longer You Wait.” Jack leaves us with a glimpse at his own compositional glory with “Linden Avenue Stomp.” The upbeat rambler points to The Allman Brothers’ “Jessica” in its open road production, and the presence of Shuford’s backing band The Helix flesh out Rose’s flying fingerings into a foot-stomping melody far too catchy for even the staunchest anti-country congregates to ignore. There’s a long, sad goodbye to Jack Rose still to endure, but it isn’t to be found here.
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Muscles [CS]
[Unread Records; 2010]
http://unread-records.com
By Gumshoe
Is this a Lucky Dragons recipe? A Secret Mommy blast of mouth sounds? Field music for the nu century? Yep, all three, really. Ethan Rose, too. This is Fie Mu in the most essential sense of the word, though. Constantly skittering to new environs, often fast-forwarding through what could be voice-over boredom, always keeping an ear out for that which isn’t addictive enough to stick. I have an old Raccoo-oo-oon tape that sounds like this (I can’t even find it anymore), all stampeding bass bubbles and samples scree. I don’t want to say Muscles will someday brave the same peaks, but the groundwork has been laid. The art is amateur-cool too, just like r-coon’s. There’s even a list of source material and collaborators (which include Cave Bears, L.E. Methe, Joe Tingley, Tyler Whitney; only Cave Bears ring a bell): “Metal Tech/C. McAlister collaboration tapes soiled from a leaked sewage pipe” … “The Story of the Atom Bomb, Vol. 1, narrated by Bob Hope” … “Assassination of a President — The Four Black Days first eyewitness account” … “John Wayne - Texas Funeral” … “The Dream World of Dion McGregor” … The list goes on and on. If this doesn’t pique yr curiosity, nothin’ will. Did I mention this is a compilation, not a proper release? Helmed by Christopher Fischer, btw.
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Lunar Life [7-inch]
[Atelier Ciseaux; 2010]
http://www.atelierciseaux.com
By Jspicer
Megan Remy returns with a head full of steam on Lunar Life, a junk-and-electronic mash-up of playful proportions. In the same vein as Annie Sachs, Remy deconstructs pop melodies to their most juvenile and haphazardly rebuilds them with a unique set of mangled Legos; colors mismatched and bricks akimbo but somehow a recognizable structure to be lived in by jaundiced little people. The title track is dominated by a busted Casio drone and a wooden block rhythm borrowed from Fifth Grade music class. Quaint is often used to describe such an effort, but here not only is it an apt descriptor, it also signifies the highest form of flattery. Remy’s youthful excursion is equally catchy and accidentally inventive; gold-star-worthy if ever something was. B-side “Take Over Dynamix” is far more sinister, perhaps the disillusioned creator of side A succumbing to big business and global destruction. It’s hard to paint a smiley face on the shitstorm of Earthly politics, and “Take Over Dynamix” echoes such sentimentality by positioning itself as far from the mechanism as possible. The void grows larger with each passing note, Remy content to hole up in her Playskool bubble and close the door on a world not ready to play nice.
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Cascaders [CS]
[The Curatorial Club; 2010]
http://thecuratorialclub.blogspot.com
By Jspicer
The renewed cassette culture has given any predisposed individual the chance to release their own musical endeavors at minimal risk and little cost. It’s no wonder wastelands of the world are finding a voice where most thought there was none. Although it is hard to consider Brooklyn an urban dumpster, one could rummage through the piles of decaying talents and fill a lifted shopping cart to the brim with discarded intelligencia. It’s from this unrecognizable rubble that Jamie Granato emerges, cocoon discarded in favor of spreading hypercolor wings. As Cascaders, Granato’s debut is a combination of synthesized drone often associated with musics from the ‘underground,’ yet it maintains a noisy vibe all its own. Notes tremolo, guitars shoegaze, and drums rattle as remnants from a thrown-away subculture trashed a decade ago. Combining familiar rock and pop idiosyncrasies with experimental execution, Granato builds a sturdy shanty in the midst of the fallout, able to withstand the next sonic boom or shift in style. Cascaders isn’t about seizing the moment but about permanent residency, and Granato has found himself the finest pasture in overflowing landfill.
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“Droplet on a Hot Stove” b/w “Nen Vole”
[Underwater Peoples; 2010]
http://www.underwaterpeoples.com
By Jspicer
Few labels have caught the New Jersey turnpike vibe quite like Underwater Peoples, so it comes as no surprise that the venerable label would be issuing two castoffs from Julian Lynch’s self-released Born 2 Run. While the two tracks here wear the 2008 4-track sheen present on Lynch’s album, it’s the universal pop melodies that wrap around “Droplet on a Hot Stove” and “Nen Vole” that propel them to a plane only Lynch occupies. Both tracks are carefree, boasting a lazy summer vibe as they effortlessly float from Lynch to ear, hypnotic and dreamy. It’s as if we’re transported to the days when guys and gals crowded wood-paneled stationwagons to socialize at drive-ins and car hops, when radio songs spoke directly to their audience, dripping with innocence and teenage daydreams. This is the power of Julian Lynch, and to revisit it anew through this 7-inch is a pleasure that only an authentic egg cream and California waves can capture. Buy this and hold hands (and nothing more) with the one you adore.
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Split [CS]
[Stunned; 2010]
http://stunnedrecords.blogspot.com
By Jspicer
Mystery lies beneath this split from Indonesian newcomer Duck Dive and his American discoverer Dewey Mahood. Unlike Coronado and Cortez, Mahood does not conquer; he nurtures. Duck Dive’s side is a Mulligan’s Stew of warped electronics, eerie sound effects, and uncharted territories. It is the future promised in Blade Runner and Brazil. Beyond the layers of gray tones is a host of sounds that shine a ray of light in the uncompromising visage of 80s gloom. Consider it the sledgehammer to the effigy of Big Brother. Mahood’s latest project, Edibles (as if he weren’t busy enough with Eternal Tapestry and Plankton Wat), switches moods and styles and somehow the split maintains its balance between somber melodies and sunny tones. Mahood bravely tackles the chillwave phenomena with a healthy infusion of dub influence, and unlike recent dub super project We Like Cats, Mahood has discovered the island vibes and good humor without billboard gimmicks. Not that many rock the tape deck anymore, but this split — created worlds apart — is a readymade mix tape to slam into your dash stereo or delicately placed ghettoblaster. Feel the rhythm.
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Vibracathedral Orchestra/Infinite Light [7-inch]
[Krayon Recordings; 2010]
http://www.krayonrecordings.net
By Jspicer
Mick Flower flexes his guitar muscle over two sides to this mammoth 7-inch. Following a string of three LPs meant to produce a slow burn, Vibracathedral Orchestra ramp up the speed and intensity on their half, “Get It?” Other than the mysticism that hovers over the whole of VCO’s catalogue, there isn’t much to gather from the posed question other than a bad case of the Joneses. It’s the power Flower possesses with his magnetizing riffs. Infinite Light introduces us to Flower’s newest project, featuring Magik Marker/Spectre Folk icon Pete Nolan and guitarist Barry Dean. “Baptized by Intuition” is what one would expect from a pairing of Flower and Nolan, the heaviest rhythms providing syntax to the storming of the gates of Hell. It’s hard to get much of a handle on the width of the melody since it’s from a so-so live recording, but the strange falsetto and “No Quarter” vibe that invades midway through the track’s triumphant run lends itself to visions of what will be when this trio makes a proper recording. Strange things lie in wait for those brave enough to enter the land of Mick Flower; consider this 7-inch a quick survival guide.