Eventually, darkness will consume us all. No matter how hollow your superficial shit deepens itself in a wallow of weeks-old wading milk (what; all for the sake of alliteration). Bath tubs filled with unimaginables. Casinos left empty. Funds applying to pieces that are of no consequence to future intent. Don’t matter how well you word it, if you’re calling yourself a D-List celebrity, you’ve already become a meta-ghost in a world of opinion that matters as much as, “Get outta the fucking way, I gotta get home and enjoy my life!” It’s chill. Let it all eat you alive.
Slowly, life always recollects itself, and I’ve always found solace in Dirty Beaches’ music and videos. Above is the Dirty Beaches a teaser video (shot by the beach dirtier himself, Alex Zhang Hungtai) from the upcoming instrumental album STATELESS “COMING SOON, FALL 2014” via Zoo Music Records. It’s been a minute since his FIRST fully legit INSTRUMENTAL album, which was a pink tape on Night People records, and totally dope and darker than any meta-self absorption you can muster up. Keep on the look out for that good-good..
Mind bent on permanent static. Flirting with the murky top, but drifting further and further away. Going out deep. No paralysis. Cloaked frames of chance, shining through darkness. Space and Time: earthly words for immaterial vastness. Other human, bawdy boasts of absolutes will be crushed under the thumb of Street Thunder’s sound. Pure sound. Taking you away. Beauty pokes it’s head out, as does ugliness. Overwhelmed by continuation. Growing older as you float. Clipped of youth at every second. Unconcerned.
Cassettes of Galaxies are still available. Reckno is to blame, and I’m pointing my happy little finger at them right now.
• Reckno: http://reckno.bandcamp.com
“Sun Moved the Oceans”
The dynamic yet vintage-tinged video for “Sun Moved the Oceans,” promoting the album Golden Eagle of Illumiation by the U.S. trans-dimensional shaman Steven Siciliano – working under the moniker Sunfighter – combines breathtaking vistas of deserts, mountains, clouds, lakes, and plains with the kaleidoscopic, abstract visions recalling the original, organic visuals for the first psychedelic concerts in the 1960’s, which get more prominent, even aggressive toward the end of the video, attacking the watcher with a barrage of almost epilepsy-inducing flashing visuals straight from Ken Russell’s Altered States. Music wise, the song occupies the territory somewhere between the classic Germanik desert worship (a’la Agitation Free, or, more lately, the desert kraut jams of Datashock), and the stoned, heat-processed drone rock of stoner rockers or the sun worshippers from Barn Owl in a happier mode. Fans of more old-school-styled psychedelia will fit at home here, especially the fans of classic sounding organs, which are so abundant here it will make them orgasm all over themselves.
There’s an unusual tenderness hidden in the background of Gut Nose’s newest release Filthy City. This tenderness is exactly what builds the world around the music that comes and goes as it pleases throughout the release. Weather it’s the street, wind in the night sky, or shuffling on pavement, it’s eventually and brutally stricken from ears as listeners are directed to hear [noise pollution] or [harsh] or [violence]. And the atmosphere of Filthy City is well represented in Gut Nose’s first single from the LP, “Unknown Allure.”
What a track title: “Unknown Allure,” embedded in a release that is entirely driven upon a self-visualization of a city torn to filth. Ooze dripping down the pillars of an overpass. Something is rustling before a shadowed figure facing it under the train-track staircase. Paper ruffles past a pile of rocks. On ‘em is a bruise of color and a woman either crying out for help or in pleasure. Will you help her? There’s a number on the back. Follow the “Unknown Allure” to it’s core.
Gut Nose’s newest LP Filthy City is out on Styles Upon Styles Records September 9, featuring “Unknown Allure” streaming below:
Cut the ties on the scroll bearing glyphs of the Botanist saga and let it unfurl. Since 2011, Bay Area-based multi-instrumentalist Otrebor has steered his one-man avant-black-metal project through a series of concept albums that detail the conquest of humankind at the many tendriled hands of a sentient plant race — weaving scientific, philosophical, and literary research into a rich mythology intractably tethered to his sonic experimentation. Botanist proves his commitment to his extramusical ideas with each baroque album cover, roman numeral-bearing title, and liner note-laden physical product, and has established himself as a singular auteur in a style of music already rife with oversized personas and conceits. But for all its sensational details, Botanist’s thematic transfiguration into a hermit who awaits humanity’s destruction from the safety of his “Verdant Realm” serves as an exercise in humble self-negation, rather than a grandstanding gesture, by virtue of the tenets at the heart of his mythos: respect for the environment, isolation, the insignificance of humanity in the face of nature’s grandeur. Shielded behind two nested monikers (Botanist and Otrebor), the “real” person behind the project sunk into a bed of moss long ago — and we’re lucky enough to bear witness to the music issued from this hideaway.
Our notion of what constitutes black metal continues to evolve with each communique from all the Alcests and Lantlôses and Deafheavens out there, as the signifiers that the genre emphasizes (blastbeats, tremolo picked guitars, howled vocals) stand as reliable signposts within expanding cushions of synth and shoegaze guitar textures. While other artists push deeper into the drift and explore the possibilities of abstraction within an ostensibly “metal” project (as if we can reasonably carry any expectations with that distinction anymore [see for example: WITTR’s recent full-on Popul Vuh-core 2xLP opus, or pretty much every release in The Flenser’s catalog]), Botanist codes a balanced mixture of atmosphere and brutality into the DNA of his unpredictable compositions. “Stargazer,” a cut from the forthcoming VI: Flora premiering below, finds room in its expansive mix for billowing harmonium- or synth-like washes, distorted melodic leads, and bruising drum fills. The track stretches across clattering rhythms and wraith vocalizations on its way to a subdued outro performed on an instrument central to the Botanist sound: the hammered dulcimer, with tightly wound strings quivering like vines ready to snap under the force of human interference.