“It Takes Me”
It’s a refreshing surprise when an artist manages to find a pseudonym that actually befits their music. When christening and content fall in line, it becomes clear that the artist making the music isn’t doing it accidentally, but actually has an inkling or vision. For us listeners, such sure-footedness earns our faith. Sure, there’s a certain appeal in the absolutely oblivious artistic “genius,” who supposedly produces out of feeling and drive, unburdened by self-conscious demons, pretentious theses, and grand plans. But then again, there’s something indelibly honest when the artist knowingly and unabashedly tells us their lofty goals… and then delivers.
See: Sun Glitters, who falls definitively into the latter camp. “It Takes Me” sounds indeed like flecks of daylight splintering along, a stuttering yet driving beat sprinkled with shards of optimism. I hear this song as a symmetrical companion to some tracks by recent blow-up Washed Out. The cuts on Within and Without are clear-eyed visions through turquoise baths; Sun Glitters’ work sounds like the long, aureate shadows of late afternoon. See? The name fits like a sun-baked glove.
The High EP, where you can find “It Takes Me,” is out soon from music/is/for/losers.
The remix album holds an odd place in today’s musical landscape. A long tradition in DJ and dance culture, the notion of reworking existing material has recently spilled into our “experimental underground” in a major way. The Cyclist’s Bending Brass, an album that sounded like a bunch of remixes in the first place, is a prime example. It’s been further reworked as Rending Brass, out now on the Oakland, CA label Crash Symbols, and the results are pretty interesting. Most of the tracks strip away the source’s sonic murk to reveal a joyful, throbbing slice of late-80s/early-90s dance music, a core that to my ears feels hidden in a lot of recently happening shit. Stream the record below or snatch it for free on the label’s Bandcamp.
Mike Wexler sounds like if Nick Drake were in The Grateful Dead and hung out with Jandek or something. But not really. Wexler’s ageless voice and timeless instrumentals are achingly familiar yet blatantly new. On “Pariah,” the leadoff track of Dispossession, Wexler wheezes out gloomy psychedelia while retro organs gently drag the tired groove into a rather epic start to a rather fantastic new release.
Dispossession will be released by Mexican Summer on March 6. But it looks like you can order the LP from the site right now right now.
• Mike Wexler: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mike-Wexler/30053716145
• Mexican Summer: http://www.mexicansummer.com
“Music For LSD 1” [exerpt]
And it just takes and takes away from each bit that you’ve built upon. Rocketing you, becoming a part of that piece inside none of us; lacking fervent exotic inertia. Nine now, nine. Molding yourself and image into spanning as much time known to known, to you. Resistance is the ocean and you join it miles away. Bubbled in thought. Bubbling your blood. Bend. Bend with it now. Swim in unperceived colors. Let your hair grow and fall and lose weight and age, color, lightness, senses, a dog barking, etc. Four? Fine, four. Warp with what’s reeling in the reel mind, your mind. *oops shit break* Yeah, yeah, and yeah, you’re just floating —er wading in the water of, well wait, the ocean and, like resistance, or um, not resistance. Don’t resist. Fuck, I lost it! But you can easily find Cray’s Music For Lysergic Acid Diethylamide tape on Discriminate Music meow to make up your own mind and shit. Rocket Machine Tapes sold out of ‘em!
From The Mouth of The Sun
“Like Shadows In An Empty Cathedral”
The record label/mailorder haven Experimedia gives us Woven Tide, Dag Rosenqvist and Aaron Martin’s debut as From The Mouth of The Sun. I wrote previously about the Experimedia release from Lawrence English, which feels like a nice prelude to Woven Tide and particularly the track “Like Shadows In An Empty Cathedral.” Both conjure a certain physical weight through drifting bass tones and a beautiful higher register that never quite settles into a melodic context. In iTunes, the album’s genre tag is ‘Ambient Classical,’ and there is a certain kinship here to the hyper-consonant modern classical works that flourished in the 20th century. I think the notion that the sorrowful, strictly tonal billows of sound stand as a testament to ‘purity’ in the face of extreme dissonance is important to keep in mind. Though I’m not really sure what Rosenqvist and Martin set out to accomplish. I’m probably full of shit.
Dolphins Into The Future
Canto Arquipélago [trailer]
There is no amount of cinematography that can compare to the vast scope of sound melted with Lieven Martens’ fins. Swimming in the deepest, hottest part of Earth is a good way of representing what Dolphins into the Future have to offer visually. Or vast green fields fading into each other, such as the cover of Canto Arquipélago. Canto Arquipélago was mastered by Graham Lambkin and is available for pre-order now, but is being shipped March 6. These five tracks I’m sure would better serve your suspense while waiting for the physical copy to drop, but just transcend patience, or something.