Foxy Digitalis (July 2007)
14-07-2007
One quick look at this brand new Last Visible Dog compilation should get any good Foxy Digitalis reader feeling a little fuzzy inside. Not only is LVD known for its legendary compilations, such as the six disc "Invisible Pyramid" box, but this latest effort is packed with the some stunning pairings and solo tracks from the scene's most consistently spectacular musicians. The Free Players, a Finnish super-group of sorts, previously known as Keijo's Free Players (the group still includes Keijo, among many others), open this latest LVD compilation, “Crows of the World.” Organ drones form the loose backbone this opener. Keijo has been a prolific contributor to the cdr underground, with a slew of prior releases as a solo artist, and with his Finnish Free Players have become an essential part of the familiar Finnish folk fad. His free-spirited acoustic meditations are at their best at the helm of this new compilation. It's a little difficult to imagine this track, originally recorded in a one-take 2005 studio performance according to the album's liners, was originally intended to fit within the compilation's very specific avian theme. The rest of the compilation feels the same way, often chillingly cold and metallic (still wonderful), a far cry from a crow's universe. Still, the familiar Finnish free-folk sound slips easily into the mix, as just about any Uton, Keijo, Islaja, Kemiliaset, etc., track would. “All Time Sunrise's” steady organ drone stands as the centerpiece, a warm body for the distant, earthy clatter to huddle around. Chilled chimes, electric feedback and string thorns sprout from the persistent organ tones. I'm assuming the credited "African seed bundle," alongside synthesized vocalizations, is responsible for the faint other-worldly vocalizations, sounding something like an Australian didgeridoo to these untrained ears.
The North Sea's Brad Rose follows The Free Players with a minimal bongo drum and acoustic guitar/banjo piece on “Albino Deer Transmissions.” The methodical, tribal drum beat sounds like something from a late night native communal ceremony, echoing drumbeats mimicking the rhythm of dancing feet. Opposite this repetitious bleating drum beat, the steely banjo, and eventually a sole harmonica, conjure a very different world; the rootsy instruments seem to pay homage to the barefooted, inspired, bluesy songs of the bygone plantation era. Woodsy acoustic guitar and heavily distorted vocals further muddy up the cultural waters, the track growing unimpeded into a dense tangle of acoustic foliage. Western Automatic's (aka Matt Christensen of Zelienople fame) out of tune guitar and “homemade spring percussion box” make for a yet another lovely ambient piece. “The Burlap Tundra,” has many similarities to The Free Players' opening ambient free-whatever piece, only sounding more sharpened, in contrast to "All Time Sunrise's" shambolic, or communal grooves. "Tundra" could pass for the salty, forensic remains of some tragically flooded underwater settlement's deep-water recordings and sound experiments. Echoing clatter gives the track that claustrophobic feeling, like the unsettling clatter from an underwater vessel's steel skin. The uniquely, psychedelic, out of tune guitar sounds like the distant, distorted transmissions from a clan of super-intelligent, meddling, malicious dolphins (responsible for the settlement's loss of cabin pressure, and crew's untimely demise).
The Ilya Monosov/Preston Swirnoff duo, who I've never heard of until their appearance here, construct their own breezy drones from a pairing of organs. Their track, titled “The Sea Within...” is pleasant enough. Again, a simple organ tone is present throughout the track, with a more dynamic air organ (sounding like a lumbering, weighty accordion without the keys) pulsating around the steady organ tone a sine wave. The track seems fairly uninteresting, though oddly warm and inviting, until a surprising energetic surge within a minute of the track's closing. While not especially mind-blowing, and not especially inventive, it's pleasant enough, and could be quite suitable as a white noise bed-time track. Andrea Belfi's, "RIB" is the easily the most inventive and adventurous of the first disc's offerings. A gorgeous hodge-podge of instruments make it difficult to form any sort of cohesive image, or theme. Leaky harmonium notes bleed throughout the track, alongside deep, guttural double bass notes (performed by the equally talented Stefano Pilia). Rubbery, looping synthetics and prepared loops sound like a Jackson Pollock spattering superimposed over the structured, surrealistic beauty of a Van Gogh. "RIB's" soft, whispy vocals, pairing of string instruments and tape drones paint that structured, but creative landscape foundations, with the rambling, viscous synthetics layering chaotic unpredictability like Pollock's splashes and swirls of paint. Paper Wings bring a close to the compilation's first disc with a dusty, cavernous electric guitar piece. Paper Wings is Pseudoarcana CEO Antony Milton and new-to-me Australian musician Anthony Guerra. The duo's electric guitars generate a shrill, distended shock wave of psychedelic guitar improvisation over the course of an epic 24 minute space-station-based, static wrapped broadcast. Indecipherable vocals poke through airier portions of "Horse Latitudes," with effects-a-plenty bending notes just short of their breaking point. While I've not heard Milton's earlier folk LVD release, I am familiar with his music as Nether Dawn. This track's electric bath may well appeal to fans of that project While rather longer than I'd ideally like, Paper Wings' electric sojourn should be a pleasant experience for anyone who would enjoy Keijo Haino or Greg Malcolm's electric guitar compositions chilled and stretched by the time-twisting effects of general-relativity.
Thickening up with mix, Geoff Mullen and Kris Lapke as Northern Cross dramatically shift the compilation's tone. While I'm not intimately familiar with the work of either artist with only a few listens of each, looking into samples of Mullen's past releases releases, I'm confident those pleased by each artist's prior LVD offerings will feel comfortable swallowing this duo's scorched, sunken guitar, psychedelic sludge. Dense guitars pair with pitched, spastic electric hackles and pained loops, an fitting musical representations of Kafka's twisted psyche. Unsettling, and a welcome respite from the spaced out, at times woodsy, ethereal first disc, "Corvus" is an earful of dingy, smoldering psychedelic lava. Brasil and the Gallowbrothers band brighten the mood with their track "Snack Bars Near the Beach," a barren, acoustic and synthetic folk drone. Nothing huge to note here, but pleasant enough, if a little protracted.
Fortunately, a pairing of New Zealand lo-fi-folk-all-stars (I'm really enjoying all the pairings) of Stefan Neville and Antony Milton (appearing for the second time) as Sunken liven up the mix with a surprisingly noisy live-recording. "Twin Beaks," in comparison to each artist's familiar skeletal solo folk recordings, is brimming with nervous energy. Wheezing organs, pained vocals and tape loops blends Milton's noise-drone Nether Dawn sound with some subdued undertones from their lo-fi-folk roots. Bobbing into view amidst the predominant rough, stormy waters of organ drone are high pitched, childish organ melodies and desperate gasping vocals. It's like an industrial-revolution-era Eastern European street performance, composed of a leaky organ box squealing loudly, a playful toy flute in the hands of a smiling, energetic midget in tasseled shoes and red-velvet vest, and the troupe's seedy, gangly leader shredding a kick-ass electric guitar hungry for feedback (if only electric guitars had really been a familiar instrument for turn of the century street performers). Following this mostly drone recording, New Rock Syndicate, consisting of Kawaguchi Masami (of LSD March), Akira Kikuchi and Nao Shibata, continue to shy away from disc one's subdued ambience with their garage psych track, "From the Dream." The group's proggy, psychedelic jams are reminiscent of fellow countrymen Acid Mother's Temple or Boredoms music, with their own unique garage/diy aesthetic added into to the mix. Hugely pleasing following over an hour of abstract ambient, drone and experimental noise, this more traditional offering is will slip your head out of the clouds, cleansing your ear-palate for the compilation's remaining subdued drones. Finally, Oaxacan stitch together tribal free-rock and drone for "Tulum." Again, this group is new to me, but this Oakland, CA group has much in common with fellow spaced out free-rockers like Pocahaunted, VxPxC, Thousands and the Antique Brothers. "Tulum" almost seems to bring the two disc compilation full circle, very much in the same camp-fire, free-spirited that characterizes The Free Players' opener.
Musically, this compilation is a treat throughout. Without a doubt "Crows" can get tiresome with so many lengthy, textural tracks, but there's more an abundance of ideas to keep these long tracts of ambient ground well worth trudging through. The packaging and thematic element is a little perplexing though, even though I'm pretty certain it's not meant to be taken very seriously. Right on the back of the disc, LVD claims this compilation is first in a 10 volume series "detailing the family Corvidae, including first-hand observations of flock formation, [and] nesting habits...." Maybe I'm daft, but at no point during this two disc compilation did I ever find birds flapping into my mind. While the jacket design is simple and lovely, I feel a little robbed (well, not really) that I didn't get to learn more about these winged heroes; instead, I'm left with a tantalizingly brief introduction to their lifestyle, alongside a photograph of a single representative of their kind, gazing dramatically at the tracklist. Again, it's the music that counts here, and this compilation is really quite epic. Best of all, "Crows of the World" is brimming with side-projects and pairings, a great preview of upcoming collaborations, solo-efforts and fresh material from a diverse, familiar (mostly) and wildly talented line-up of musicians. 8/10 -- Sean Herman (3 July, 2007)
|
Andrea Belfi
)