“Going Backwards to Recover What was Left Behind”
Christina Vantzou. Attractive in an intense, polite fashion, an astounding composer, apparently a good director as well, and, just like me, loves a shot of Phantom Miro (that’s a video camera, not a mixed drink). *Ahem* call me.
Her new album is called Nº2, and you should be listening to this album if:
you have just recovered from a devastating break-up.
you have just recovered from a devastating loss.
you intend on breaking up with somebody soon.
you intend on killing somebody soon.
you are walking in slow motion on the beach.
you are lost in a forest.
you are at home alone and it is raining outside.
you are lying on the couch scratching your dogs back.
you are nervous.
you are in love.
you are lost.
The video for “Going Backwards to Recover What was Left Behind” enhances the listening experience by visually accompanying the more subtle gestures of the song, engaging both senses simultaneously, and when deemed most appropriate by the composer. There is light when you are supposed to be watching, allowing some of the most delicate instrumental flourishes to shine through, and there is dark when you are supposed to be listening, as the force of the music needs no accompaniment.The song itself is like an overture, but instead of building to a grandiose finish, it fades introspectively. Going backwards to recover what was left behind, but then realizing maybe it should just be left there.
Move that “Hardware” like it’s making you dance. Feel the stiffness of your movements with a complete flow of rythm. Synth’d out sounds flaring around your ear drums like whispers of computer engines sustaining the candor of something potentially living, yet entirely electronic. “Hardware” driven by pulse. Emotion powered by an on switch. Stiffness like a microchip jammed in a jack too small for its size, but over-driving the necessity for energy. Like recharging a battery past it’s point of “full.”
Ride the speed of Slow Pulse. Feel their “Hardware.” Find out what’s the happ’s in a universe of mirrors. To be exact: Slow Pulse is the collaboration of synth-pire Xander Harris and moan-gazer Nicolas Nadeau (half of Single Lash… half-lash?) and they got a young Self-Titled release on Mirror Universe Tapes poppin’ off April 15 in edition of 100 that’s available for pre-order now! So enjoy the first taste of it listening to their single “Hardware” below:
Just think positive.
You get what you expect.
Oh, yes, “the blues as abstract,” calloused fingers pulling at the strings, a man becoming a guitar, an ecstatic battle with oneself.
Happiness is a choice.
I listen to Bill Orcutt and I moan in surprise and in pleasure in real time in instinctive harmony with the playback of his vocalizations.
Such is life.
Watch out for more info on Bill Orcutt’s upcoming release Solo Acoustic Volume Ten via V[in] D[u] S[electe] Q[ualité].
Something will turn up.
Guest Mix: 30XX
Like city lights, receding…
You’re weightlessly gliding over glossy clouded sapphire glass floors, the virtual plaza’s pixelated imitation-halogen LED walls humming neon nothings as you pass. An action movie montage of dolphins, mullets, jet skis, and bikinis streams continuously to and from a miniscule fractal nucleus you find yourself gravitating toward in a horde of pop-up window shoppers.
Suddenly, a 92-dicked daikaiju demon appears, fucking everything to exploded smithereens.
You awaken in a filmy ball pit of huge eyes popped from shallow sockets, your manhood taken, but your vision left mercilessly in tact. With it, you catch one last glimpse of the fiery giant, his embers flickering out, “like city lights, receding,” and in that instance you realize that never was the plaza as beautiful as it is now, burning to the ground.
The orchestrator of its destruction speaks:
This mix pretty much represents my fascination with cyberpunk/anime, goregrind, ’80s synth/wave worship, and J-pop, all mashed up in an atrociously odd abomination. Some of these artists have directly influenced the grind aspects of 30XX like Bile, Gigantic Brain, and HYPEREMESIS (who was the drummer on the recent 30XX BC Canada tour). Others fit the theme of goregrind transitioning to synth-pop/dreamwave/cyberpunk electronica which I often flirt with in 30XX. Couldn’t help but add some Kyary all up in this too.
Stream below, and subscribe to our podcast here.
[00:00] Abducted By Sharks - “3AM”
[04:20] Bile - “Bled Dry”
[05:26] マクロスMACROSS 82-99 - “木野 まこと”
[07:23] GAF - “Forced Birth Slaughter”
[09:05] Albatrosicks - “ストロベリーラブジェネレイタ (REDALice Remix/GOREMAN X Hyper GLITCH MIX)”
[11:07] HYPEREMESIS - “GANGRENOUS CYSTOMA”
[11:57] FM Attack - “Invisible”
[17:53] Gigantic Brain - “Crop Circles”
[21:18] Pyemisis - “CHEMICALS”
[22:13] Kyary Pamyu Pamyu - “Cherry Bonbon”
30XX just came down from a hyper-productive month in which he not only finished said tour, but minced three new releases: Dead Future, BC Tour Tape, and Pulsating Future. Earlier this week, he presented a preview of more gore to come, with the “XX14 Sampler.” お楽しみください!
“Clear The Sky”
Ryley Walker dropped The West Wind EP at the tail end of 2013 to tide over the heads across the world pining for his shred. I bid those heads to rise and look over yonder, for lo! It is Walker: gig bag over shoulder, rollie in mouth, once again darkening the horizon. If “The West Wind” hinted that the Chicago-based guitarist/songwriter has put in his 10000 hours with the catalogs of Richard Thompson and Bert Jansch, his forthcoming LP All Kinds of You expands into a diverse survey of 20th century folk styles, culling vibes and performance tactics from the progressive strains of the UK as much as the ramshackle roots music and American Primitive traditions of the US. If you’d like to call this “revivalist” music: alright. Do your thing. The vitality of Walker’s songwriting and the level of fingers-on-fretboard prowess necessary to channel his chosen forebears speak for themselves, elevating his project from an homage into a nuanced vision of past-meets-present composition.
“Clear the Sky,” premiering below, leads off with a passage of loose, raga-inspired solo guitar characteristic of the Fahey/Rose lineage (double RIP). His ensemble drops in, establishing a loping rhythm gilded with snare runs and lush string phrases, and Walker sings of nature, the mountains, probably time in general, maybe an unnamed flame: “So lay your body on down.” His delivery and the space between his lines generate a mood between work-worn fatigue and optimism, like a shift in the lumber yard drawing to a close with the sunset. His playing continues to astound without crossing into showboat territory. Each of his strident hammer-on runs and chiming arpeggio phrases serves the song’s harmonic structure, resulting in a chord progression that feels more like a tight lead line accounting for every sixteenth note. The tension between this precision and the rubato passages that pleasantly disrupt it stretches “Clear the Sky” beyond the [man + guitar] [singer/songwriter] [folk] paradigms into a modern hybrid of ideas, with Walker’s sense of song structure and arrangement as the lynchpin.
All Kinds of You arrives on April 15 via the Tompkins Square. Check out their site for his upcoming tour dates with both Wrekmeister Harmonies and Cloud Nothings, and keep your eyes out for ordering info.