Well...I felt certain that I'd be able to get all my posts up by today, but alas, fate has conspired against me. Suffice it to say that when they DO go up tomorrow, those of you wishing to hear a few particularly choice items from the auction will be duly rewarded for your patience.
This top dollar collector-scum-baiting minimal synth LP walks a fine line between endearing and "oh, dear-ing", the former courtesy of some zippy, zany synth-poppin' New Wave kitsch fun in the spirit of Pink Section, The Units, Computer Sex and, most specifically, The New Occupants; the latter when they stray into a too-cutesy-by-half schtick ala Xex, the former fortunately largely outweighing the latter, with plenty here to insure that dopey grins and bouncing legs are mostly the order of the day.
Note: links removed as this is available directly from the artist's own website here
On the heels of my posts of two albums by Bradbury (aka Garry Bradbury, former Severed Heads prime mover and all 'round mad hatter), here's his phenomenal late 90's project Size, which ran concurrently with his work on the previous two Bradbury albums that I've shared. Beginning with a beautifully diseased sounding surrealist trudge (the meeting of an Alaskan Polar Bear Heater and some Freshly Wrapped Candies on a dissecting table?), we're soon enough plunged headlong into the terrain so beloved by those of us cognizant of Messr. Bradbury's genius, a universe of acutely precision tooled Rube Goldberg-like sonic architecture; it's piercing wit, pulse pounding rhythm programming and oleaginous and perverted electronic atmospheres directly descended from Severed Heads' prime era.
NOTE: SEVERAL OTHER ALBUMS OF GARRY'S FANTASTIC WORK CAN BE FOUND FOR PURCHASE Here
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My final post of material by these unsung Neue Deutsche Welle masters (following their "Overdrive" and "Last Dream Of Pheobe Zeitgeist" tapes) may well be their penultimate statement, here wrestling free of any conceptual bag you'd wish to shoehorn 'em into and effortlessly shifting tack from hard edged post punk drama to acid melted Dome-like nightmare scapes in an eyeblink.
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Truly lovely rustic/folkloric and occasionally quasi-celtic sounding gamboling and capering French folk prog, touching at various times on everything from the magisterial and gothically haunted sounding acid folk-ish moves of the Broselmaschine/Emtidi/Hoelderlin wing of the krautrock scene to the dewy-eyed anthemic folk rock of Canada's Harmonium and rollicking trot of Muck Groh and Belgium's Nuit Caline A La Villa Mon Reve.
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A further choice installment (and timely, on the heels of last weeks Solid Eye post) from L.A. Free Music Society maven Thomsen; his inimitable and deliciously bleary sonic surrealism perfectly of a piece with his other gems that I've shared previously, though here threaded with a handful of vocal oriented tracks that, I believe, mark Thomsen's first foray back into singing since his days in Monitor.
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For those of you who still have an interest in original artifacts, the second round of experimental/psych/prog/what-the-fuck? vinyl obscurities have just been hoisted for auction by moi, this time including some rather eyebrow raising items, including Steven Stapleton's original copies of five of the albums that appear on the NWW list, part of a raft of titles bought from his archive circa 2004. Those interested in seeing whats on offer, please head on over to Vas Deferens Organization's site Here to view the hyperlinked list of vinyls being auctioned.
This Canadian private press mega-rarity/obscurity from the artistically schizophrenic Bell splits the difference between his love of basement psych splatter/pummel and squalling free jazz ramble, the former occupying side A with a stunning four part suite of wasted guitar scuzz and churning Krautrock-like drama with an akin to both German Oak and Spacebox, the latter covering side B with some rather middling squeak/bonk.
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A longtime fixture on the French jazz circuit and known for his work during the 60's and 70's opposite Don Cherry, Louis Sclavis and Didier Lockwood among other notables, bassist Henri Texier also had a sideline as a member of France's godhead folk prog merchants Total Issue back in the early 70's and the downy wistfulness and deep sweet soul ache that he nailed during his tenure in the outfit seems to have left a lasting impression, as his three solo missives that followed over the course of the 70's (this being his third) are all suffused with the same sort of profound beatific glow that he established with them. That said, the form of it's manifestation here is rather different from Total Issue's M.O., being principally concentrated on the emotive force of bass and voice, hewn through judicious multi-tracking into luxurious webs of pluck/bow motion through which Texier weaves breezy but emotionally weighty wordless vocalizations to dazzling effect.
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***NOTE: THERE'S A MIRRORED MEDIAFIRE LINK IN THE COMMENT FIELD***
'Tis a pity that the latter day doings of L.A.Free Music Society personnel have never garnered the critical or collectible cache of their 70's era work, as you'd be hard pressed to find a finer piece of audio surrealism lurking in the L.A.F.M.S. back catalog than this sick apex of absurdist fuckery, Solid Eye (aka Rick Potts, Joseph Hammer and Steve Thomsen, whom I've posted several titles by both collectively and individually in the past) having truly hit their stride with this one. Has there ever been another recording of electronic weirdity that so perfectly mirrored a Rube Goldberg device? Feel free to answer that question yourselves after being pumped, pressed, stamped and extruded through the cartoon gears of this brilliantly ludicrous sonic machinery.
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Since my post of the Ives brothers' A La Luna tape caused such a stir, here without further ado is the last entry in my spate of Woo posts, this one their third outing and preceding A La Luna by a year. Into The Heart Of Love is suffused with the same exquisitely vaporous and downy soft form of audio surrealism as the rest of their faultless canon; seamless but delicately askew elisions of overlapping guitar latticework, sighing vocals, slippery little clarinet themes and gossamer appliques of atmospheric oddness.
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Following my post of his glorious debut "Le Monde En Etage" way back in early '07, here's this French master's fourth outing from eight years on and plying something far different from the counterculture carnival atmosphere of his debut, as aside from some assistance on marimbas, darboukas and Asian cymbals courtesy of one Jean Shultheis and a bit of vocalizing from his wife Patricia Markusfed, the majority of this is Markusfeld out on his own. Working a scintillating seam largely hewn from plangent and kaleidoscopically intricate meshings of acoustic/electric guitar filigree, the vibe here has something of both Phil Manzanera circa Primitive Guitars and the acoustic folkloric eccentricity of Quebec's Conventum, though imbued with some of the airy and dewy eyed upfulness of his countrymen in Total Issue.
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Drugged, diseased and claustrophobic sounding synth punk insanity that mates early Chrome style acid fried malarky to Girls/Shut Up-like post-Alan Ravenstine atonal synth blurt with detours into a visceral nihilist trudge/grind somewhere between Flipper and The Slugfuckers. Essential brainfood for your next dystopian moodswing.
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This scintillating and wide ranging spacey Canadian prog unit weave numinous folk prog burners ala Paolo Tofani's Electric Frankenstein into an achey and cosmically plangent sonic fabric thats both very French underground-indebted (think: Pulsar and Carpe Diem) and bucolically beatific ala Bo Hansson, though the dewy and pristinely refined manner of it's deployment here is also very copacetic with their Quebecois contemporaries Yves Laferriere, Maneige and Eclipse. Top shelf goodness from one of the world's most underrated 70's music scenes.
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Sooner Or Later begins as a very rigorous bit of political art. Composed by this early proponent of plunderphonic and sampladelic praxis (now better known for his journalism that appears on sources like The Huffington Post), The A side begins by grabbing hold of a brief sample of a Salvadoran child burying his father after being murdered by The National Guard, burrowing inside of and plastically reconfiguring this extremely spare and very disturbing sound source over the A side in myriad ways. If this were the sum total of what was transpiring here, it might not have triggered my desire to share this promptly, but the B side is trafficing in something else entirely. Here, Ostertag teases out a glorious haloing harmonic cloud of drone guitar bliss sourced from 20 seconds of a Fred Frith improv that sounds like nothing so much as the dreamily arcadian and acid glazed early era of Matthew Bower's work under the Hototogisu moniker, with the child sample re-appearing as a ghost on the periphery at around the two thirds mark.
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Following my posts of the Ives brothers first two aerated and delicately eccentric LP's, here's their equally stunning follow up, which maneuvers within a similarly finespun Cornell box sonic universe as does Pascal Comelade; all pixie dusted plink/chime motifs and subtly screwy gossamer arrangements cross cut by slipstreams of subdued wooze.
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A once prolific operator on the 80's U.S. underground cassette network, the work of Minoy has some very distinct and personal resonance for me, as this tape was one of my first windows into the universe of Very Strange Sub-Underground Electronic Music (discovered via the tape review section of Option Magazine), coming on the heels of early teen years much more steeped in the realms of weird New Wave and R.I.O./Beefheart. Pretty Young Negro Man and the Flipside ("Outback") ooze out of your speakers in a queasily pitching soup of distended loop detournement reminiscent of the early era of Severed Heads slowly lurching towards entropy inside a stochastic cloud of John Duncan-like shortwave manipulation.
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