Gora Sou
“Bay of Seven Moons {Swan Dive Prelude}” (Rose Modular Remix)

It’s that feeling you get when you wake up on a dewy morning, and in the year 2603, faith is a totally different animal internally. The moon had deteriorated by obliterating asteroids around 2212, the Earth lost plenty of tidal shifts, experienced unusual gravitational wakes, moods that have bugged the study of psychology, and pure dark nights. Around 2410, the population growth hit it’s max, and starvation was at an all-time high, thus began a massive exodus for open land and food. Between the times ROCKS showed up – the first three around 2481, the last four almost immediately around 2532 – human life decreased and emotionally evolved into families and clans; grouped beliefs became pinnacle for survival. Until the seven moons began rotating our Earth, helping us gravitate and process psyche much quicker, humans were never in a darker state. Now, after nights of hunting and foraging new foods and shelters, you awake at and take the “Bay of Seven Moons {Swan Dive Prelude}” into collective praise of the Gora Sou monument afloat above the water, backed by the power of Rose Modular.

Rose Modular (duo including Holly Waxwing) remixed a track by Gora Sou called “Bay of Seven Moons {Swan Dive Prelude}.” Above is inevitably the prophecy of time that Gora Sou beholds in the tips of his key scaling fingers. Layer upon layer of pure sound explorations and melody mixture, Gora Sou just “let’s it happen,” as humans will always TRY, but continue to submit to the adaptation of life and art. Glad Rose Modular was around to spin their take on “Bay of Seven Moons.” Noumenal Loom popped out Gora Sou’s newest album Living XXL on tape, and you can grip it here. Enjoy the remix below:

• Gora Sou: https://soundcloud.com/marc-bel
• Rose Modular: https://soundcloud.com/rose-modular
• Noumenal Loom: http://noumenalloom.com

Divino Niño

“Initials LV”

A sense of leisurely romanticism infuses Camilo Medina’s croon. Youth. Lust. The pursuit of virgin flesh with hedonic tenacity. Like Polaroid revelers well-versed in Springsteen-ian games of seduction, the Chicago-by-Columbia singer and the other three members of Divino Niño play like they’re leaving bloody fingerprints on the diaries of every “long blonde hair[ed]” lover along the coast of Lake Michigan. In a blanket of floral harmonies, the band initially sounds too hypnotized by their own swagger, but soon hit a pleasingly psychedelic stride in the song’s bridge. Lyrics like “rip my clothes in half” are expressed halfway asleep, as if written on a sunset train journey through the desert, daydreaming about the girl who left two single initials in liquid cursive at the base of his thumb.

“Initials LV,” the first off of Divino Niño’s debut album Pool Jealousy, serves three directives:

1. To let us ignore Alex Turner, Medina’s British foil, since he is dangerously close to going off the deep end.

2. To let us release that hot, hot pressure in our loins that has been building up all winter in a pelvic thrust that carries us out the front door and onto the new spring lawn, where the grass is more than happy to perforate our skin with microscopic cuts.

3. To let us, once again (I say once again, but Oh Joy! For some of you, it will be the first time), do what we do best: try to get the attention of the opposite sex in a way that is cool, confident, and ultimately meaningless.

Pool Jealously is out April 8 on The Native Sound. Go here for more information.

• Divino Niño: http://www.divinoninoband.com
• The Native Sound: http://thenativesound.limitedrun.com

The Body

“To Carry The Seeds Of Death Within Me”

After their mammoth 2013 album Christs, Redeemers unceremoniously collapsed your chest and threw your stuporous mass of bones and tissue into the shallow end of the pond to heal among the muck and the lily tendrils feebly lacing around your limbs, you’d think The Body might need to take a breather. Maybe gather their wits, gather your wits, lie low in the shadows for a minute. False: The Body never rests. The Portland-based duo’s next full-length LP I Shall Die Here smashes into our consciousnesses on April 1st, and the boys brought along some backup for this round: sub-bass-mongering dark ambient warlord Haxan Cloak (whose Excavation LP still astounds with each spin). Independently, both artists continue to push the limits of extreme recording practices, capturing bowel-rending bass tones and noise-charred treble/static voices on their ongoing quests to replicate the apocalyptic blast of their live performances. Together on the same session, The Body and Haxan Cloak overlay their trademark tropes (death-howl vocals, whistling synth samples, sludge-paced live drums, skittering dub edits) into cavernous mixes collectively saddled with enough negative ions from both camps to charge your grimmest reveries well after the music ends.

The video for I Shall Die Here cut “To Carry The Seeds Of Death Within Me,” directed by Richard Rankin (the man behind these previous The Body visual masterstrokes), introduces us to a character capable of mirroring the music’s singular horror. His goals and motivations are clear. His methods: sound. He gazes at himself, and we gaze at him. Prepare yourself to witness his task.

• The Body: http://atalossrecordings.com
• Haxan Cloak: http://haxancloak.tumblr.com
• RVNG Intl.: http://igetrvng.com/

Platinum Vision

COCO’s66^^2.8.2014

“I’m just a smelly, smelly giraffe.”

“What troubles could have befallen this giraffe? This poor freak of nature, shaped like a construction crane… he feels that he’s no more than a smelly, smelly giraffe. The sort of giraffe that wanders around the edge of the watering hole, looking for a companion — another Serengetite — who might be able to tolerate his smelliness for long enough to listen to the long list of things he hates. Having observed this particular giraffe from the safety of my Jeep Wrangler (decked out with four-dimensional vector prairie camouflage and a winch with a big fucking hook on the front), I can only determine that this misanthropic creature will be driven to starvation soon. The other giraffes will exile him, beating him mercilessly with their necks when he comes near, for lack of a better style of combat. Soon, though, the other giraffes will accept him back into the tower, but only because they know he is the weakest, and when the lions come they can offer him as a sacrifice by beating him with their necks and then galloping away….”

The preceding anecdote was adapted from the unintelligible in-the-margin scribblings of the lyric sheets of Matt Mottel. In addition to his memberships in Talibam! and NYMPH, he is the singer of the band Platinum Vision. The group recorded a live set on February 8, with Mottel leading a tight group of musicians — Drew Sayers (saxophone), Alex Asher (trombone), Rick Parker (trombone), Dave Treut (soprano saxophone), Jim McHugh (guitar), Adam Caine (guitar), Nick Lesley (drums), and William Flynn (bass) — through his bloated fantasies of instinctual, carnal passion and expensive wine. Inside his head, a small metal ball — the diameter of a nickel and the weight of a large orange — rolls back and forth, keeping tempo, which Mottel transmits to his bandmates via telekinesis (he explains his distaste for wires during the set). This is the only conceivable explanation for how the band manages to execute their fiercely tight set, with saxophone and guitar playing licks thicker than the three-foot tongue of a smelly giraffe tearing leaves off a large shrub.

Witness all of this yourself: Platinum Vision are playing two gigs this month in New York. The first is on Sunday (3/23) at Brooklyn’s Littlefield with Tuareg group Imarhan Timbuktu. The second show is next Thursday (3/27) at Trans-Pecos with Eidetic Seeing, Martin Bisi, and Nola Gras.

• Platinum Vision: http://platinumvision.bandcamp.com

Tara King th.

“Mutuelle Appreciation”

Didn’t know how I felt about this video for “Mutuelle Appreciation,” considering I drove to work today listening to Hirondelle Et Beretta, the newest Tara King th. release on Moon Glyph. My hesitation stirred at first thinking Tara King th. in general is a Vox Populi rip-off, or just some hack from Tampa getting “retro” and French for the fuck of it. Well, I was genuinely wrong. The second bit of hesitation arose when I felt like a video to this FAUX and exceptionally well Cinemascoped cassette would be killing the imaginative listening vibe that spreads on thick in sound. Not to mention that Hirondelle Et Beretta was brilliantly recorded onto cassette, which is where you’d hear the soundtrack-esque style of song writing Tara King th. submits to: 60s foreign spy/terror/monster b-movie put on VHS around ‘88. But the visuals for “Mutuelle Appreciation” don’t get too airy. At least, it remains as unspecific as the vocals of the song.

For real, Tara King th. is an interesting personality to invest in. “Mutuelle Appreciation” is merely the tip of her iceberg, as Hirondelle Et Beretta gets deep in musical lore, like many cassettes have been dabbling in this year, and keeps on promising listeners everywhere. I guarantee, if you reel the entire cassette on your own, you’ll start telling people, “Oh, oh – this is the scene where… [imagination ensues].” Scope Moon Glyph immediate for Hirondelle Et Beretta by Tara King th. and feel your brain chemicals pump to the tide of music.

• Tara King th.: http://www.tkth.com
• Moon Glyph: http://moonglyph.com

Golden Retriever

“Flight Song”

Each welcome burst of new material from Golden Retriever provides the singular delight of hearing a live unit stretch their performance tactics into new and unexpected directions. Since the beginning of their catalog, Matt Carlson and Jonathan Sielaff have excelled at juxtaposing the academic, tightly-controlled strains of contemporary electronic, ambient synth, and long-form drone musics with the freewheeling, lyrical voice of live woodwind performance. More than a synthesis of “human” and “inhuman” elements, Golden Retriever offers the chance to perceive joyful irregularities within the order of rigid electronic systems, as each voice airs its fine grain in the context of a larger spectrum of interlocked tones.

“Flight Song,” a cut from the duo’s forthcoming LP Seer, crams numerous opportunities for sonic discovery into its seven minutes of running time. Hear Carlson’s ornate modular synth patch blossom from a series of self-consuming arpeggio phrases into soaring lead passages, chiming through gorgeous chordal progressions in recursive jaunts up and down the scale. Sielaff’s bass clarinet fanfares duck and weave through the sympathetic trails of synth melody, alternately bolstering the lower register with moments of subdued resonance and sliding through a motif that comes to serve as the piece’s recurring head. The resultant session has the potential to lift the opera glasses of the stodgiest contempo-classical boffo, and send basement synth-freaks off scrambling to grip previous releases before their glory fades into the shelfspaces of the savvier OGs.

Seer lands on March 25 via Thrill Jockey. You can preorder it now. ALSO: FIND THE ALBUM STREAMING OVER AT FACTmag HERE.

• Golden Retriever: http://goldenretriever.bandcamp.com
• Thrill Jockey: http://www.thrilljockey.com

  

CHOCOLATE GRINDER is our audio/visual section, with an emphasis on the lesser heard and lesser known. We aim to dig deep, but we'll post any song or video we find interesting, big or small.