So, how was your weekend? Mine was good. It was pretty nice out. 70s, sunny, the first really nice weekend we’ve had of the season. Naturally, whispers of the word “camping” were brushing by my ears. I got pretty excited about it; we even BBQ’d, and I was imagining sitting out under the stars with a roaring fire in front of us the whole time. S’more’s, smiles, etc.
And then I sat down to write about Vilké, the new full-length release from veteran Portland noise-ist Daniel Menche, and started becoming terrified. “Vilké” is the word for a female wolf in Lithuanian, and Menche used the sounds of howling wolves as the core for the music found on this double LP, thereby obliterating any notion I had that sleeping outside, in the woods, in the dark, with the wildlife, in the cold, might actually be a smart, sound, and safe idea. I didn’t want to go camping any more.
I guess I should have been a little better prepared. Menche is a guy with previous album titles like GUTS and Beautiful Blood and Scattered Remains and Radiant Blood, and so themes of the flesh and animality were bound to be followed here in his audible portrait of the wolf, her environment, her plight, and of course how we as humans can exhibit all of these things within her. Menche’s dense soundscapes and keen sense of pacing and compositional suspense make this a real gripper, a quiet mix burned deep with a force to make it seem deafening, menacing in just about the most intimidating way imaginable. It’s a weird metaphysical/psychological mindfuck type of thing that happens as you make your way through this sample, especially if you check it out on, say, a full moon. Heart hammering blood through the temples, itches you didn’t know needed scratching before becoming suddenly excruciating. I think you know how this one ends.
Our first listen to the album here is also accompanied by some visuals for good measure, provided by the album’s resident artist, Faith Coloccia:
Daniel Menche’s Vilké is out May 14 on double vinyl and cassette via SIGE.
“Bookfiend” [feat. DOOM]
Now playing: “Bookfiend,” in which cricket crunk originator Clams Casino breaks us off with another symphony of whale calls, raindrops, and other samplings straight off the sleep machine soundscape. This time, however, they’re blessed to serve as background fodder for the villainous rants of metal-faced inventor, sorcerer, and world conquerer DOOM, who sounds perhaps a bit truer to form than he did on last year’s Key to the Kuffs. Overall, it’s a sick little tune, one which will likely inspire a gut reaction calling for more from this team-up, but considering the supervillain’s recent track record, it’s just as probable that this is yet another random, singular communiqué dispatched from whichever dank lare he’s currently occupying across the pond.
Run The Jewels
4-bar intro, 12 bars El-P, 12 bars Killer Mike, 4 bars El, 4 bars Mike, 4 bars El, coda. If you’re tryna hear the two dudes behind some of the best hip-hop albums of 2012 — and, you know, all those classics a decade or two back — trade breathless verses for a few minutes with no chorus in sight (other than a few bars of spammed vocal sample), here’s the “Get It” SoundCloud stream. After the track ends, something else from Fool’s Gold’s stream queues up immediately, but you know you’re just gonna hit the play button on “Get It” and dive back in again.
The duo named themselves Run The Jewels after LL Cool J’s beat-stopping command in “Cheesy Rat Blues,” aligning their output with hip-hop a few golden ages ago. “I’m stuck in a time capsule when rap was actually factual,” Killer Mike spits, and you believe him: these two might be higher above ground right now than ever before, but the vibe is still Independent As Fuck. Hear them toss off tongue-twisting internal rhymes and thread their birth names into the proceedings, as El-P’s synths spew a chromatic progression over a tight grid of echoing kicks. The stripped-down beat reminds us Mr. Producto doesn’t only deal in the blaring-siren apocalyptic death march — the man knows that a simple, utilitarian boom-bap can cut right through to the vital nerve.
Fool’s Gold promises us a “free album and limited edition items” from Run The Jewels in June, along with a tour in July. The summer can’t get here quick enough.
If there’s something my sig-nif loves move than dinosaurs, let me know, because I can totally get a surgical rept-ivert operation for love. Actually, the partial meaning behind this C Monster pseudonym is because she always calls me “Monster.” And now I’m on the hunt for any version of Rampage, so we can share a mutual appreciation in giant creatures and shit. Anyhow, this “Mangrove” video is my sig-nif’s wet dream. Like, when she’s sleeping and peeing the bed, she’s definitely thinking exactly how this video appears, scene-by-scene. And it’s disgusting.
Also, Bataille Solaire restored my faith in synth-driven psych-out banging last year with BAAL-SHAMASH et son char céleste. I think I listened to that through and through and through, through the months of April and May. Funny “Mangrove” is popping off right now in my ears and in front of my eyes. Anyhow, new tape by Bataille Solaire called Documentaires coming out on Constellation Tatsu ASAP. So scope it that fast!
Last week, we sang the praises of Date Palms’ expanded ensemble — this week, we see them in action. The video for “Dusted Down,” which appears on the band’s forthcoming The Dusted Sessions LP, unites two disciplines we all know were born from the very beginning of time to be together: drone bearing the influence of Hindustani classical music/the American West and hallucinogenic live video synthesis. Recorded at video artist Andy Puls’ Whistlehut studio, the band’s live performance sparks the video into swirling abstraction, fusing the five musicians into an oscillating rainbow prism or a kaleidoscopic drone symbiote all covered in tendrils before returning them safely to their human forms. Hear loping guitar and bass phrases lock into a modern era Earth-core mantra groove, as Marielle Jakobsons’s violin moans a tremulous melody above Gregg Kowalsky’s chiming synth figures. As the track’s trance state deepens, Puls’ processed undulations give way to a trail of all-consuming blur — and the band strips it all the way back down to the most essential tone.
The Dusted Sessions arrives April 30 from Thrill Jockey. Pre-order it on LP or CD. Put it onto your turntable or into whatever plays CDs inside your home. If you turn off the lights and close your eyes, I bet you too could morph into a multi-tendril swirling rainbow entity right there in the middle of your living room. I promise you it really won’t be that hard. Don’t give up.
“Meta Y Dinero”
There’s that thought process that goes:
Fuck garage pop! I’ve had my fill. I’ve seen the willy-mics and the inter-generational greasy hair enough times that I don’t need to jump around at the front of every show in that vest I cut myself with a kitchen knife, adding my own Beach Boys backing vocals and wantonly belly-slamming the lead singer with every off-the-mark snare roll. In the morning, I don’t need that particular genre of tinnitus that comes like a distant, rolling thunderclap followed by a quick, piercing, flash of high hertz dolphin song. There are genres of tinnitus, right?
Then there’s this.
And my school-kid Spanish kicks in.
Though whether it would get me through a night with Los Blenders in Mexico City is debatable.
And the clouds start some foreplay with the sun.
And I realize I’m lying to myself, and this is great.
My favorite Spanish word?
Trabajaba. He used to work.
And this still does.
• Los Blenders: http://losblenders.bandcamp.com