Hot Tuna - Keep On Truckin' - Live 1973

The name Hot Tuna invokes as many different moods and reactions as there are Hot Tuna fans — millions of them. To some, Hot Tuna is a reminder of some wild and happy times. To others, that name will forever be linked to their own discovery of the power and depth of American blues and roots music. To newer fans, Hot Tuna is a tight, masterful duo that is on the cutting edge of great music.
All of those things are correct, and more. For more than four decades, Hot Tuna has played, toured, and recorded some of the best and most memorable acoustic and electric music ever. And Hot Tuna is still going strong — some would say stronger than ever.
The two kids from 1950s Washington, D.C. knew that they wanted to make music. Jorma Kaukonen, son of a State Department official, and Jack Casady, whose father was a dentist, discovered guitar when they were teenagers (Jack, four years younger, barely so). They played, and they took in the vast panorama of music available in the nation’s capital, but found a special love of the blues, country, and jazz played in small clubs. Jorma went off to college, while Jack sat in with professional bands and combos before he was even old enough to drive, first playing lead guitar, then electric bass.
In the mid-1960s, Jorma was invited to play in a rock‘n’roll band that was forming in San Francisco; he knew just the guy to play bass and summoned his old friend from back east. The striking signature guitar and bass riffs in the now-legendary songs by the Jefferson Airplane were the result.
The half-decade foray into 1960s San Francisco rock music was for Jack and Jorma an additional destination, not the final one. They continued to play their acoustic blues on the side, sometimes performing a mini-concert amid a Jefferson Airplane performance, sometimes finding a gig afterward in some local club. They were, as Jack says, “Scouting, always scouting, for places where we could play.”
The duo did not go unnoticed, and soon there was a record contract and not long afterward a tour. Thus began a career that would result in more than two-dozen albums, thousands of concerts around the world, and continued popularity.
Hot Tuna has gone through changes, certainly. A variety of other instruments, from harmonica to fiddle to keyboards, have been part of the band over the years, and continue to be, varying from project to project. The constant, the very definition of Hot Tuna, has always been Jorma and Jack.
The two are not joined at the hip, though; through the years, both Jorma and Jack have undertaken projects with other musicians and solo projects of their own. But Hot Tuna has never broken up, never ceased to exist, nor have the two boyhood pals ever wavered in one of the most enduring friendships in music.
Along the way, they have been joined by a succession of talented musicians: Drummers, harmonica players, keyboardists, backup singers, violinists and more, all fitting with Jorma and Jack’s current place in the musical spectrum. Jorma and Jack certainly could not have imagined, let alone predicted, where the playing would take them. It’s been a long and fascinating road to numerous, exciting destinations. Two things have never changed: They still love playing as much as they did as kids in Washington, D.C. and there are still many, many exciting miles yet to travel on their musical odyssey.  From: https://hottuna.com/about/

How To Destroy Angels - How Long

With nearly a quarter century of active music making and recording under his belt in one form or another, Trent Reznor could be forgiven for wanting to take an extended break at some point. But in recent years he seems to have moved into full overdrive, even as his flagship identity Nine Inch Nails has gone on an extended hiatus. One outlet is his new collaborative group How to Destroy Angels, featuring Rob Sheridan, his wife Mariqueen Maandig and another regular musical partner of recent years Atticus Ross, his Oscar co-winner for the soundtrack to David Fincher’s The Social Network. Their second EP, An Omen, features another understated, beautiful and tense group of songs, with vocals from both Reznor and Maandig but predominantly the latter, as on the striking featured single, ‘Ice Age’.
 
The thing that struck me about this EP, even more so than the first one from 2010, is that space, silence and deliberation felt key throughout, especially on the latter three tracks. Was it always intended to be that way or did that come together as recording progressed?

Trent Reznor: We went into it with this long-range goal of trying to see what develops, to let it present itself and to experiment with a lot of styles and messages and tracks, and how they came together. What we felt was the shortcoming of the first EP was the result of it being just a few weeks in the studio to see what happens. It was kind of demo-ish to me, it felt like you could see the DNA of where it came from, that it hadn’t really become its own thing yet, but it was fun to just to see it come out. In this day and age of music consumption, we felt that rather than letting it sit on the shelf and wait, we felt we should put it out just as a memento of where we were at that time.
Since then we’ve recorded a bulk of music that’s always been living as an album. The decision to sign with Columbia as a means of really reaching out to more people than just the Nine Inch Nails fanbase was really the main reason behind that. So the decision to put a record out meant – should we start with singles, should we put some tracks out? The idea of a strong EP came up, so we extracted some tracks that felt like they could fit together. They were meant to be on the album and some may remain. We spent a couple of months tinkering around with the sequencing and we wrote another track for it, there’s still a lot of glue keeping it all together and I’m pleased with the results. I think it’s an interesting EP that gelled together pretty nicely.

Asking a little more on the collaborative nature of the EP, now that you feel the group has transitioned more into its own thing. Do the four members meet in the middle, does one person present an idea that is then developed, or does it vary, song for song and impulse for impulse?

TR: It comes down to parallel tracks. One is primarily Atticus and myself starting with an idea – we were heavily inspired by old Cabaret Voltaire, starting with the sound of old analog sequencers and things, trying to sync up things in conception, and machines working together in concert but not quite able to do so. I think that concept led to experimentation as it proceeded. The other track would be Mariqueen coming up with melodic ideas – sometimes completely unrelated to what we’re doing – lyrical concepts and fragments of lyrics that were married to this music. It would often go in a direction that Atticus and I didn’t intend it to, and that marriage, that collision, would make it feel a lot different to how a Nine Inch Nails record would feel, or a soundtrack as it evolved.

Your specific work for How to Destroy Angels, as opposed to other activity and projects that you’re doing right now – do you find that working in a group form results in something where you’re challenging yourself, or is it more an extension of a certain part of yourself? Or is it a mix of both?

TR: Hmm, interesting! This is something that may or may not qualify as an answer for that – when Fincher asked me to work on The Social Network score, and I accepted because he was somebody I respected as a person and as an artist, it was a respectful environment but it was an environment where clearly I was working under him to serve what he wanted to make. That’s very different from how Nine Inch Nails operates, where at the end of the day I’m making all the decisions and in that pyramid of power I’m sitting at the top of that, vision-wise, direction-wise, final vote-wise. I found that I really enjoyed being in that respectful environment, not being at the top of the pyramid.
When working with like-minded people on a project that was very interesting, with respect going both ways, it was fun to be in that supporting role. I wasn’t thinking that way out of laziness, I was thinking more that it was interesting to be taking direction. That’s something I’ve learned later in life here, that there is something that I responded to in that. When he asked if I could do The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo right after that I said "Yes, I really enjoyed that!"
Coming out of a few years of doing that, I’ve started to fuck around a bit with Nine Inch Nails stuff, writing music that feels like it could belong in that category, and I found it very invigorating and inspiring because I hadn’t done it for a while, and it feels good to be taking the reins.
With How to Destroy Angels, it was more in that center column of working collectively, about realising that it’s not all my decision, that I think I would have done it this way, but okay, we’ve decided to go that way, and discovering that works, that basic collaboration. It’s the reason people collaborate in the first place. That had little impact on Nine Inch Nails evolved but now I’m enjoying collaborating in various different forms, while at the same time it’s reinvigorating my interest in autonomy as well.

From: https://thequietus.com/interviews/trent-reznor-interview-how-to-destroy-angels/

Cornelius - Music

The 1997 Matador release of the still-great Fantasma established Cornelius (Keigo Oyamada) as the far-East posterboy for indie-rock globalization. As the most recognizable representative of downtown Tokyo's Shibuya-Kei movement (also responsible for Pizzicato Five, Buffalo Daughter and Fantastic Plastic Machine), Oyamada’s Beck-like star potential and wildly creative imagination led to a stateside buzz all-too-rare for Japanese musicians. But a release schedule that includes five-year windows between albums isn't the best way to maintain hype. It was 2002 before the follow-up Point boiled Fantasma down to its essence: a wonderful fusion of rubbery, acoustic micro-house rhythms. With another five years now having passed, Sensous represents yet another step forward for Oyamada’s unique headphone pop. It’s not quite the departure that Point was from Fantasma, but it feels like a natural next step.
Sensuous opens with Oyamada revisiting one of Point's main techniques: composing songs with the individual sounds kept clearly separate. His fascination with the hi-fi stereophonic demonstration records of the 1950s and 60s-- the ones that presented the full range of the stereo spectrum through whirring, buzzing sound experiments-- finds its full and rewarding realization here, but in function more than form. Often on Sensous, as on Point, it often feels as though Oyamada starts by writing normal songs, but then inserts sounds into the places where there are none, erases the original melody, and keeps the music's negative.
The title track is a meditative series of plucked guitar strings-- not completely unlike something you'd hear on Four Tet's Rounds-- phased between the left and right channels. But this initial sense of serenity quickly gives way to the more recognizable bustle of "Fit Song". It replaces the sonorous acoustic with the muted, clipped strum of an electric guitar, which provides the rhythmic bed for the first minute of the song, as bass drums and hi-hats bounce around with Oyamada’s single-word incantations ("just," "fit," "click"). The song feels like a stylized metropolitan soundtrack, but its video (which is included on the disc) suggests a more modest milieu that reflects the song's senses of humor and wonder. Syncing the movements of typically inanimate objects to the music, the video, like the album, is indulgent and geometric: sugarcubes form steps for a pair of spoons to climb, toothbrushes dance in a circle, the contents of a coin purse form a floating infinity symbol.
"Fit" also marks the record's first appearance of Oyamada's favorite instrument of late (and, it should be noted, a point of friction for many listeners): a spacy, sonorant synthesizer that provides a soft and windy counterpoint to the skipping stones all around it. Later on the irresistable "Beep It", the synth serves a new-wavier rhythmic purpose, with Oyamada's monosyllabic mojo more resembling the sounds of a retro-futuristic aerobics class, and "Music" gradually introduces the instrument into its melange of chirping guitars and melismatic vocals, lending the song a fluffy, space-age buoyancy.
Sequenced after the copy-machine-sampling "Toner", "Watadori" feels like an extended fever-dream from a nap under an office desk. Multiple layers of soft-jazz guitar tick off and ascend higher and higher, coalescing into busy-but-gentle treble-buzz, the equivalent of twenty different CTI-label records played at the same time. Oyamada's newfound predilection for the oft-criticized and elevatored music is most fully realized on Breezin'", an inventive interpolation of the jazz-pop standard made famous by Gabor Szabo and later, George Benson. The song feels like perfect source material for Oyamada to work with, and while he thoroughly launders it of its core melodic structure, he manages to maintain its, well, breeziness. Like an installation piece on a constant loop, ascending three-note synth runs and chimes provide a chilly melodicism as the song works its way, over and over, to a surprisingly lilting payoff. Its doppelganger, "Gum", emerges later, with his vocals ping-ponging over a punk-metal guitar drone previously explored on Point's "I Hate Hate".
Sensuous ends with a second, even less-expected cover: a faithful update of the Rat Pack standard "Sleep Warm", on which Oyamada augments Frankie and Dean’s maudlin sentimentality with his own vocodered vocals and loud, trilling synth flourishes. While this version certainly would be tough to fall asleep to, its album-closing position makes it feel more like a film-closing credit roll, similar to The White Album’s "Good Night". Now, apparently, we just have to wait five more years for the sequel.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/10084-sensuous/

Bab L'Bluz - El Gamra

Emerging from the underground Afro-Arab music scene, Bab L’Bluz are reclaiming the blues of North Africa on their debut album, Nayda! Fronted by an African-Moroccan woman in a traditionally male role, Bab L'Bluz's music nods to the revolutionary attitude of the Moroccan "Nayda" youth movement. The album is rooted in traditions of the Maghreb and ancient Gnawa music, but incorporates modern influences of rock, funk, and psychedelic fusion. In this detailed three-part interview, we spoke with vocalist and multi-instrumentalists Yousra Mansour and Brice Bottin on the evolution of the Nayda movement, the instrumental and spiritual connection to Gnawa music, as well as the various lyrical themes expressed throughout the album.

I wanted to start by talking about the Nayda youth movement, which your album is named after. Can you briefly describe your impressions of the scene when it first began, and how you’ve seen it grow over the past decade?

First of all, we wanted to call our album "Nayda" for the primary meaning of the word, which is "partying", or intellectual or spiritual "awakening". We are musicians, and the first feeling that drives us is that of bringing people together, of breaking down the barriers that we ourselves or even society imposes on us. We must do this in order to reach out to others and come together, because we are all equal, and we all have to learn from each other. This is a basic philosophy of life that animates us, marked by respect. Nevertheless, it is useful to remember it, even in 2020.
We are also interested in this movement because we want to encourage creation on the part of young people, as well as older people. In Morocco, as everywhere else in the world, we want to encourage young people to advance mentalities, and not reproduce some of the mistakes of our predecessors. There is also a creative energy of many artists, rappers and rockers alike, who are mobilizing in recent years to push creation. This type of energy can only have a positive effect on the world. This type of Nayda mentality is also possible thanks to the people who organize cultural gatherings, such as music festivals. We had the chance to play at the L'Boulevard Festival in Casablanca, which for more than 20 years has been transmitting these notions of sharing through their eclectic programming. These type of festivals allow several styles and generations to rub shoulders. Overall, we encourage youth to believe in themselves in order to improve the global world in which we all live.

It seems like the scene is on a very progressive trajectory, but there are still setbacks here and there (i.e. a group of heavy metal singers were sentenced for playing “satanic” music back in ‘03.) How does the Nayda culture bounce back from these setbacks, and where do you see it leading in the future?

As it is everywhere, preconceived ideas are born from an ignorance of the other. Sometimes you can have a negative opinion about something you don't know well. We encourage respect for different styles of music, especially those that we have yet to understand and appreciate.
We have grown up in the era of globalization. We have had the chance to learn a lot from being interested in other styles of music and other cultures. For us, the beauty of life is a perpetual learning, a questioning. We think that there is no age you can stop learning, and we try to perpetuate a message of peace, love and global respect as well.

Whenever I read about the beginning of this movement, I always see all-male groups being credited as the forefront leaders. Yousra, could you comment on the female forces in the underground that have pushed this movement that we might not read about here in the West?

Unfortunately, it's like anything else, but we're here to change these precepts. Even in France, known as the "country of human rights", women are paid less than men for the same work. Nevertheless, including in the field of music, many women are active and are becoming major cultural players. We have many male and female role models, and have had them for a very long time, fortunately!

And how does this sentiment above relate to the song “Yemma”, where you sing about women and their sacrifices?

We wanted to pay tribute to mothers in general. We were lucky enough to be raised by strong mothers. We wanted to pay tribute to the one who carried us, fed us, and educated us in the best possible way. We are paying homage to the mothers that had to sacrifice themselves to allow their children to be good people.

I’ve read that reclaiming the use of Darija in songwriting has been an integral part of the movement, as beforehand many young musicians were pressured to believe that singing in English would make their music more “appealing” or “accessible” to a larger audience. Can you discuss the power of reclaiming the language within your music and in the scene overall?

We wanted to write songs in Darija, or classical Arabic, because that's what came naturally. We really appreciate the richness of the language and the beautiful sounds it offers, and we're proud of it. We also understand the choice that artists make when using English to be universal. Nevertheless, sometimes music provides a personal and intimate understanding of a song from a listener who does not understand the language, and we appreciate this level of understanding ourselves when we listen to music whose lyrics we do not understand.

The Nayda movement is not just about one sound, but encompasses a whole generation of musicians of all genres. So I'd like to hear your views on what you think is the common thread that connects all these varied styles within the movement, whether it's the overall message, the attitude, etc.

Above all, it is a message of peace, love, respect and tolerance that animates us. We would like each one of us to be able to transmit this to others, pulling ourselves upwards, and developing the right attitudes towards everything around us.

From: https://www.trialanderrorcollective.com/interviews/mahreb-traditions-meets-rock-n-roll-fusion-bab-lbluz-on-the-reclaiming-and-evolving-the-blues-of-north-africa

Myracle Brah - Too Many People (Paul McCartney cover)

Myracle Brah is the brainchild of Andy Bopp – front-man and songwriter for Interscope Records’ Lovenut. With the mega merger of Seagram’s, Polygram, and Universal, Andy dove into the Myracle Brah project full-time. Myracle Brah is now the primary vehicle for Andy’s expressive brand of guitar pop. Hailing from Baltimore, MD, Myracle Brah churns out pristine pop with plenty of jangly psychedelic references. Critics have compared the band to a broad spectrum of 60’s artists: from the Byrds and the Beatles to Badfinger and the 70’s Raspberries. The blistering melodic jangle of subsequent releases has hints of Teenage Fanclub, T. Rex, and David Bowie.  All Music Guide gave their debut album "Life on Planet Eartsnop" 4 1/2 stars saying: "Channelling the ghosts of late-period Beatles, Badfinger and Big Star with almost eerie accuracy, Myracle Brah's debut captures the sound and spirit of the classic power pop era to perfection. Where Andy Bopp's work with Love Nut absorbs the influences of hard rock and punk, this solo project feels directly beamed in from some time in 1972, as though the subsequent quarter-century never even happened. What the record lacks in originality, it more than makes up for in pure charm. A gifted songwriter, Bopp stuffs Life on Planet Eartsnop with no less than 20 tracks, each of them dead-on evocations of an era long gone by and rarely recalled quite so effectively or affectionately."  From: https://www.last.fm/music/Myracle+Brah/+wiki

TivaTiva - Re-Call

My name is Daniel de Jesús and I am an artist who works within the disciplines of painting and music. For many years I have separated both worlds and have always wanted to have the opportunity to create something that married my two passions into one project; Interior Castles is that project. In the midst of working on our album The Mask, my TivaTiva band mates have been very gracious to shift their attentions and instead focus on Interior Castles so that we may turn what would have been a solo effort into a collaborative project. Interior Castles is inspired by the life and writings of Saint Teresa of Avila, a Carmelite nun whose great confession “The Life” saved her from the wrath of the church that believed her to be demon possessed. Saint Teresa as a historical subject has given artists over the centuries the opportunity to try to understand the experience of divine intervention and the powers that exist beyond the physical. It is my hope that others will find my work to be a bridge that makes the supernatural experience of Saint Teresa accessible. Her story is remarkable because in 16th century Spain the catholic order ruled every facet of society, yet for Teresa sensuality and spirituality were inextricably linked. It is difficult to see religion as anything good in our time when its institutions are associated with stories of political crime, sexual abuse, and prejudice. Even though Teresa’s story of faith is specifically Christian, her story does not concern the God of Sunday school readings and church sermons but the universal human desire to understand and experience that which is divine. I found when reading her biography a great passion to desire all things that are good and I invite anyone through Interior Castles to follow me on this journey. I am hoping you will be inspired by our passion for this work and join us in the collaborative effort to bring this project to fruition. We have many unique incentives available to our supporters and I look forward to sharing this work with you, and in turn, the world at large.  From: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/cedarstreet/tivativa-music-for-interior-castles

Balfa Toujours - Bernadette

Vocalist, and guitarist Christine Balfa comes from solid Cajun music ancestry. Her father, Dewey Balfa, made his name in the seminal Cajun band The Balfa Brothers and Christine cut her musical teeth while touring with him across the United States and Europe. Thus, Balfa Toujours are more than a band; they’re carrying on the tradition as cultural ambassadors. Before the band played a note, Christine Balfa made clear that Balfa Toujours planned on teaching the audience about Cajun French life as manifested in the language and culture of the group’s southwest Louisiana home. Equally qualified to assist, the rest of the band includes Christine’s husband, Dirk Powell, on accordion and second fiddle and Kim Wimmer, a former Dewey accompanist, on lead fiddle. The power trio began with a lively version of Powell’s self-penned “Le Two-Step de Bon Café (The Good Coffee Two-Step)”. Powell described the tune as typical “Home style Bayou Music”. The three projected a rather rustic appearance; their musical instruments showed signs of wear and the performers all wore blue jeans over their black footwear: no cuffs, hems or fancy stitching. They performed energetically, as if playing a hot Louisiana dance gig rather than a sit-down show in a former Czech Slovak social hall. That was the point of course — to show Eastern Iowans what it would be like if they ever went down to a Lafayette roadhouse on a sweaty Saturday night in the middle of summer. Balfa Toujours played more than a dozen numbers, mostly up beat two-steps, but also managed a few languid cuts. There were several musical highlights, including three swinging twin fiddle tunes that featured fast-paced dueling between Wimmer and Powell while Balfa rapidly struck a ringing brass triangle. Later Powell demonstrated the art of fiddle sticks. According to Powell, in the old days one didn’t just sit and listen to music, one participated. An easy way to do this was for a person to beat on the top of the fiddle strings with two pointy sticks that resembled fat shish kabob skewers while the other person played. Demonstrating, he and Wimmer created ebullient music together using just the single instrument. The band’s choice of selections nicely represented the sociological and ethnic diversity incorporated by Cajun culture. They included songs by American Indian and African American Cajuns as well as European and Canadian forebears. Balfa Toujours also played many of the good time tunes one would hear at gumbo festivals, Saturday night fish fries, and house parties. One such tune was a drinking song that went by two names, “My Dear Old Husband” and “The Drunk and His Wife”. Powell and Christine translated the lyrics to the audience and commented on the silly chauvinism expressed — the song is a call and response duet in which the husband commands his wife to prepare him a huge meal. The wife says he will die if he eats too much and he responds saying that he’d be better off dead, provided someone remembers to pour whiskey on his grave every now and then. The wife complies and cooks for him. Balfa noted that there was a saying that went, “a Cajun man is happy if he has a jug in one hand and a cup in the other”. A sentiment hardly reserved for Cajuns. Along this line Balfa spoke several times about Cajun humor. When Powell broke a string while borrowing Balfa’s guitar for a number, Balfa used the time to tell a shaggy dog story, one of the many Boudreaux and Thibodaux yarns that Cajuns tell about themselves in a self-deprecating manner. One day Thibodaux spotted Boudreaux heading back from the fishing hole. Thibodaux asked Boudreaux how many he caught. Boudreaux said, “If you can guess, I’ll give you both of them.” “Is it five?” asked Thibodaux. “You’re off by four,” Boudreaux replied. The comedy lay as much in the telling of the tale as its contents, as Balfa narrated the story in a corny, Bayou dialect. The band played the obligatory encore with an audience participation number, “My Madeline”. The crowd showed its appreciation by singing the title back to the trio in chorus. While Balfa Toujours didn’t burn the house down, they did an excellent job of providing some cross-cultural communication by bringing hot Cajun music and an informative, warm, and funny stage show to Cedar Rapids.  From: https://www.popmatters.com/balfa-toujours-041109-2496087628.html

The Book Of Knots - Microgravity

The Book of Knots begins with the birth of “7-pounds 11 ounces of sin” in “Microgravity” and, after posing the question, “Will they survive this microgravity?,” the band embarks on its third concept album; this one dedicated to the absence of expected hope in space travel. Garden of Fainting Stars closes the “By Sea, By Land, By Air” trilogy of concept albums begun with Book of Knots (2004) and continued on the 2007 release Traineater with tepid grace and fiery formidability.
The combination of the hazardous and the misinformed, the twilight of a good idea turning bad; these are the moments in which The Book of Knots shine a flashlight on a tormented orchestra exposing its weaknesses and exploiting its beauty. The core members, Joel Hamilton, Carla Kihlstedt, Matthias Bossi, Tony Maimone., draw to them the fireflies of the music industry, the weird and imaginative; a combination of artists to form a band like Apocalyptica only darker and more misanthropic.
On Garden of Fainting Stars Blixa Bargeld (Einstürzende Neubauten) opens a cocktail of flies with the tormented “Drosophila Melanogaster;” a song concerned with air travel on earth-grounded planes and the cocktail lounges of airports where fruit flies fill the glasses before the drinker can enjoy a second sip. This song captures the essence of the album in its frustrated attempt to endure exploration without ever reaping the rewards of success. “Planemo” easily amounts to a single if any of these tracks could be considered apart from the rest. Mike Patton’s zero-gravity lyrics and heightened moans affect in a similar fashion to Faith No More’s Angel Dust.
The collaboration of artists including Tom Waits, Mike Patton, David Thomas, Blixa Bargeld, Jon Langford, and Carla Bozulich should immediately win audience’s attention, but for the doomed travelers who turn up the tracks and feel their way along the darkened corridors of space ships and the hollowed caves of distant planets, this album can act as the soundtrack to a new generation of music and quietly bury any hope in the final frontier. The closing recorded announcement, “Obituary for the Future” feels like it comes from the future; a terrified voice calls out for companionship while the high-pitched chorus claims, “I’ll hold you close when this is over” as breaking guitars tear through ravaged drums. Wailing. Void. Over and out.  From: https://www.atlantamusicguide.com/cd-review-the-book-of-knots-garden-of-fainting-stars/

The Book of Knots‘ latest release, Garden of the Fainting Stars, is an unnerving exploration in experimental music. The Brooklyn-based group, comprised of members from Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, Skeleton Key, Pere Ubu, and Sparklehorse, are known for embracing themes with their albums (their previous releases explored nautical themes and America’s rust belt), and Garden is no exception. This time the quartet has tackled the often confusing but ultimately spellbinding prospects of space, and there to lend a hand to the experiment is a diverse group of guests including Mike Watt, Mike Patton, and Trey Spruance.
“Microgravity” and “Obituary for the Future” bookend the album, both tracks featuring Carla Kihlstedt’s airy vocals, with Spruance adding his skillful touches to “Future”. In between, you will find a range of songs that dazzle, befuddle, and sometimes creep you out (much like space itself). Some tracks touch more on rock, and others lean more towards celestial tinkering. On the latter, we have an eerie spoken-word narrative by the formidable-voiced Blixa Bargeld in “Drosophila Melanogaster” (which, by the way, is the scientific name for the fruit fly, a pest that plagues Bargeld during this Twilight Zone-primed song), the NASA-like samples of “All This Nothing”, and the planetary screams of “Nebula Rasa”.
On the rock end of things, we have the druggy and melodic qualities of “Garden of the Fainting Stars”, which features Elyas Khan’s blistering vocals. Patton fittingly contributes to album standout “Planemo”, which elevates the unconventional metal track to another level with his distinctive voice that starts low over haunting violins and builds beautifully to a raw, passionate scream at the end.  From: https://consequence.net/2011/07/album-review-the-book-of-knots-garden-of-the-fainting-stars/

Kansas - Closet Chronicles

IMHO - and I'm not alone at this - 'Point of Know Return' is Kansas' masterpiece. The sixsome manage to keep the cohesive sound and crucial energy they had already achieved in a level of perfection on its predecessor 'Leftoverture'. But as an issue of improvement, I find that Livgren's and Walsh's writing talents are not only intact, but at times even more inspired than ever before. Not only the compositions, but the arrangements are full of stunning creativity: it was actually the only way that the more concise tracks (all of them are under 8 minutes long, with only two surpassing the 6 minute mark) managed to keep up with and fulfill the pretentious demands of symph prog, while retaining that American flavour emanated from hard rock, country and electric blues that Kansas always was in touch with. The first two tracks are fine examples of how Kansas managed to create songs full of interesting surprises in their melody lines and rhythm patterns, without going for the extended opus format (Well, GG did the same in 'Octopus', right?, and so did JT in 'War Child'...). The namesake opener is both joyful and clever, making a true statement of pleasant prog-country rock; 'Paradox' is an exercise on "hardened Gentle Giant" with a pertinent American-style rocking dose. Then comes the ELP-ish two minute pyrotechnical instrumental 'The Spider', which is a fiery tour-de- force that burns at white hot level: Walsh reaches one of his undisputable peaks as a composer here, also performing wild progressions and leads on organ, piano and synth in alternating dialogues with the guitar and violin. The rhythm duo performs on a humanly impossible level as well. This track serves actually as an intro to 'Portrait', a catchy blues-oriented rock piece, that ends in a breathtaking climax (something that they would work out further on live renditions). Another burning track is the explosive 'Lightning's Hand' - a prog metal number "before its time" - while in contrast, the prize for the most compelling manifesto of melancholy goes to 'Nobody's Home', a symphonic ballad concerning the fate of humankind and the planet we live in. On this one, Steinhardt makes his violin literally mourn with all the amount of sadness that a human heart can hold. I've heard it many times since I first purchased this record, and I still cannot believe how a thing can sound so full of human grief (... but it's real). 'Hopelessly Human' is one of the two opuses, dealing with Livgren's spiritual quests for essential truths (he was on the brink of becoming a Christian, but not yet...); but my fave opus is the other one, 'Closet Chronicles', which is more somber and dynamic, and shows the band's cohesiveness at its tightest level in this album. 'Sparks of the Tempest' is another hard rock tune, with a slight funky twist a-la Bolin-era Deep Purple, while 'Dust in the Wind'... well, who doesn't know this timeless beautiful acoustic ballad? Their most relevant commercial hit has been consistently mentioned by recurrent Kansas revilers who label them as a mere AOR band who could play prog now and then. All in all, Kansas don't have to apologize for having a worldwide hit single in their career nor for emphasizing the rock aspect of prog, and I certainly am not in position of doing that job for them either. I just enjoy 'Dust in the Wind' as what it is, a beautiful acoustic ballad... and I as well enjoy 'Point of Know Return' as a North American top achievement in the prog genre.  From: https://www.progarchives.com/album.asp?id=3205 

The John Renbourn Group - Fair Flower

It had been eight years since the breakup of the original Pentangle (which featured the equally gifted British folk artist Bert Jansch)) when John Renbourn released this album featuring original Pentangle vocalist Jacqui McShee. This was the John Renbourn Group's second album with this lineup (the other being the lovely A Maid In Bedlam) and it contains many of the elements of the Pentangle sound. The music is firmly rooted in the English folk tradition, yet it also incorporates elements of jazz, blues and classical music. Each member of the group is an accomplished musician. "The Month of May Is Past/Night Orgies" features a dulcimer solo (provided by John Molineaux) enlisting the use of a phase shifter. McShee adds her clear-as-a-bell vocals to "The Cruel Mother" and the drinking song "Ye Mariners All." The 11-minute instrumental "Sidi Brahim" showcases the group's jazzier side with solos from Renbourn (guitar), Molineaux (dulcimer) Tony Roberts (flute) and Keshlav Sathe (tabla, an intrument which adds an Indian influence on many of the tracks). My favorite track, however, is "John Barleycorn Is Dead." And, of course, Renbourn's playing throughout illustrates why he is regarded as one of the best fingerstyle guitarists today. This album was recorded live in April of 1981 at San Francisco's The Great American Music Hall. This live, intimate setting is a perfect forum for the John Renbourn Group. If you are unfamiliar with Renbourn, this would be an excellent introduction. If you're already a fan, this is a necessary addition to your collection.  From: https://www.amazon.com/Live-America-John-Renbourn-Group/dp/B000000MF0

With Renbourn and Jacqui McShee as members, the John Renbourn Group inevitably sounds a lot like Pentangle – the primary points of difference being the inclusion of flute and tabla. Also, where Pentangle mixed traditional folk with blues, jazz, and original compositions, the material here is almost exclusively traditional British ballads. The highlights of Side A are “Ye Mariners All”, an a cappella drinking song; “English Dance”, a high-speed Renbourn instrumental; and “The Cruel Mother”, a chilling murder ballad (also known as “The Greenwood Side”). The side also includes “Lindsay”, an uptempo but rather repetitive ballad, and “Breton Dances”, a pleasant midtempo instrumental medley. Side B starts with a lovely version of “The Trees They Grow High” (also found on Pentangle’s Sweet Child LP), followed by three ballads involving sea voyages – two parting songs (“Farewell Nancy” and “High Germany”, both featuring lead vocals by John Molineux, who sounds a bit like Tim Hart) and one convict ballad (“Van Dieman’s Land”). Side C is entirely instrumental and consists mostly of “Sidi Brahim”, which falls more or less into the Celtic-raga category; the other track on that side, “The Month of May Is Past/Night Orgies”, is a guitar solo with phase shifting. Side D opens with two more seafaring ballads – “John Dory” (a round) and “So Early in the Spring”, which later reappeared as the title track to Pentangle’s ninth LP. Jacqui McShee returns at last for the lengthy “Fair Flower” (also known as “The Fair Flower of Northumberland”), after which the album ends with “John Barleycorn Is Dead”, which is, of course, given a much more traditional treatment than the well-known version by Traffic (which I actually prefer).  From: https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/the-john-renbourn-group/live-in-america/

Baskery - Audiotree Live 2014 / Rockpalast 2009

 Baskery - Audiotree Live 2014

 

 Baskery - Rockpalast 2009 - Part 1

 

 Baskery - Rockpalast 2009 - Part 2

 

There could be something in the water of Sweden that leads to strong familial harmonies of sibling bands like First Aid Kit, The Hives and reaching farther back to Ace of Base. But Sunniva and Greta Bondesson of sister trio Baskery have more practical reasoning. “I’m surprised there are not more family singers … because it’s the easiest way to sing,” says guitarist Sunniva, the younger sister. “You grow tight. You have the same influences, and it’s almost telepathic when you’re family and you perform together. I’m actually surprised there are only this many famous singers that are related. I think there should be more.”
Swedish families grow close, agrees banjo player-guitarist Greta, the older sister, and the Bondessons, including bassist Stella, the middle sister, are no different. But the other factor, Greta says, is Sweden’s love of American culture that dates back to the 1950s. The national mentality is that their own country is itself a little sibling to America, with the larger country providing protection to the smaller one. That’s why nearly everyone speaks English. Swedes particularly like American folk music.“I think we’re pretty good at making our own genre out of it; ‘Nordicana,’ as we call it,” Greta says. Adds Sunniva: “We are all already familiar with it. It’s part of our legacy with old Americana records. Sometimes, when Americans go to Sweden, you think you’ll hear Swedish folk music, but that’s not what people listen to. “What we do in Sweden is we sing a lot of harmonies. We sing in choirs, and it’s part of every occasion we celebrate. Somebody’s birthday: You sing and people add harmonies. That’s what we do.”
The Bondesson sisters grew up with music in their home like many in Sweden, but their father was also a working musician. Janåke Bondesson played the bar circuit, covering American country and blues songs as a one-man band, kick drum, pedal bass and all. Their early influences included Bob Dylan and Neil Young, Muddy Waters and other blues greats. In the ‘90s, when they were in school, they got a taste for rock like Green Day and Nirvana, and Britpop like Oasis. “We always sang together,” Greta says. “We weren’t really composing anything, but the first song we wrote together, we were probably about 10, 12 and 14. We started pretty early to write songs together, plus we were writing individually as well.”
There were musical instruments lying around the house, and it was a matter of time until the sisters formed a band with their father. “We were born, and he realized we had an interest for music,” Sunniva says. “He just invited Greta to start playing, and then a few years later he was like, ‘Stella can join in on bass.’ So he gradually skipped his one-man band to go into a band with us, but it was just happening without us really noticing that we were forming a band, and we started playing official shows.” Only when fans at shows started asking what the band was called did they realize they had a band, Greta says.
As the Slaptones, they gained some national attention and even opened for the Brian Setzer Orchestra. With their father as drummer, they released two albums in 2003 and 2004. But the Slaptones’ story took a negative turn when the national media turned on the band, Greta and Sunniva say, for the same reason that American media initially took a liking to Haim. The Angeleno sister trio got their start in a similar fashion, playing with their parents. But in Sweden, that wasn’t seen as cool, and the band was pressured to drop their dad.
“Some of the reviews we got in Sweden were just terrible,” Greta says. “They were just trying to tear us apart. How can there be so much hatred?” In 2006, he left the band, saying he wanted to spend more time at home with the sisters’ mother and not spend so much time on the road. In hindsight, Greta says, he wanted his daughters to write their own songs and to move away from rockabilly covers, and because the strain of negative “shit in reviews” was too much.“I think that’s one of the reasons why he withdrew from the band, to be honest, but he never said that,” Sunniva says. Adds Greta: “In America, when people found out that we played with our dad and we actually toured with him, they loved it. In Sweden it’s dorky. ‘Why do you play with your dad? Why aren’t you rebelling against your parents?’ I think he just couldn’t take it.”
After the sisters started Baskery in 2007, the public perception of their band changed. Suddenly, they were a hot commodity, playing a genre the same press termed as acoustic dance music (ADM), mud country and banjo punk. Baskery has since released three LPs: Fall Among Thieves in 2008, New Friends in 2011 and Little Wild Life in 2014. They have built a following in the Venn convergence of Haim, Mumford and Sons, Shovels and Rope and The Staves. “When we started Baskery, suddenly people were nice to us, but we’re the same people, the same songwriters,” Greta says. “Why is it OK when our dad is not in the band?”
In the meantime, their success has continued to grow. After releasing their first three albums on indie labels, Baskery signed with Warner Bros. Records for album no. 4, slated for release later this year. The sisters spent parts of the last few years living and recording in Nashville and Los Angeles with producer Andrew Dawson. The album is wrapped, and they are back in Europe, with Greta in England, Sunniva in Germany and Stella still in Stockholm. The first single, “Love in L.A.,” was released earlier this year and marks yet another new direction, away from Nordicana and toward dance pop. Spacey guitar picking and a four-to-the-floor drumbeat make one wonder what a collaboration with another Swede—Robyn—would sound like. But the Bondesson sisters are more interested in bringing back another collaborator: their father. “We try to bring him back, and we will,” Greta says.  From: https://riffmagazine.com/features/baskery-looks-back-moves-forward/

 

Veruca Salt - Shutterbug

he Nineties never sounded better than when Veruca Salt’s American Thighs was blasting at maximum volume. A thrilling, transgressive assault, the album – which made its debut 25 years ago this week – was an uncorked genie’s bottle of Generation X angst and delirium. Alongside Nirvana’s Nevermind, The Breeders’ Last Splash and Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream, the record stands tall as one of the decade’s most essential slabs of headbanging ferocity. You could laugh, cry and scream along to it. Veruca Salt certainly did as American Thighs catapulted them from the Chicago indie underground into the belly of the corporate rock behemoth. It didn’t end especially well. But, goodness, what a rollercoaster.
The single “Seether” set the tone, with metal riffs and dew-drop vocals from front women Nina Gordon and Louise Post. It was a song about feminine rage in an era when women in rock were asserting themselves loudly and proudly. And as with all the best bands from that period Veruca Salt looked as fantastic as they sounded. Just like Nirvana, they elevated just-out-bed scruffiness into high fashion. The extent of Veruca Salt’s star power was clear when, after just a few months on the road, they played the Glastonbury main stage in 1995. You can watch on YouTube, though be warned: it may make you lament the bloodless condition of rock in 2019. Gordon wears a halter-top and a snarl. Post, as was the fashion at the time, rocks in a full length white dress. They plunge into “Seether” and, for those three minutes and 46 seconds, are the best, coolest, smartest band on the planet.
They should have been huge. For a while, backed by Nirvana’s label, Geffen, they almost were. And then it all unravelled, along with Gordon and Post’s almost too intense friendship. But they left us with American Thighs (named for a line in AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”). A quarter century on, its growling, snarky melodies and slamming riffs remain singular – as evocative of the Nineties as Winona Ryder’s fringe or Kurt Cobain’s Dennis the Menace sweater. It deserves to be acclaimed far more than it is. “You look back and it was ridiculous that we played Glastonbury so quickly,” says Gordon today. “We’d barely been on tour. It was crazy. I look back at that footage of Glastonbury. I can’t believe I was comfortable doing that after such a short time.”
Veruca Salt had been riding a wave of hype for months by the time Glastonbury came around. In March the previous year, with “Seether” already picking up buzz in A&R departments in London and Los Angeles, they’d played a packed tent at the South by Southwest showcase in Austin (the original venue having burned down the previous night). It’s the Texas heat Gordon remembers – that and a crowd heaving with record label executives. The Chicago scene was at that point regarded as the epicentre of American rock. The shine had gone off Seattle (Kurt Cobain would take his life shortly afterwards). Chicago had already produced Smashing Pumpkins – a grunge band comfortable with their prog and FM rock influences – and the third wave feminist crotch-kick that was Liz Phair’s incredible Exile in Guyville. Veruca Salt appeared to split the difference between those artists. They rocked as hard as the Pumpkins yet with two female vocalists tapping the take no prisoners feminism that Phair had channelled so forcefully. Post and Gordon saw themselves as something different and unique, however: a heavy rock band with a female perspective and pop streak the width of the Chicago River. But they were working with Phair’s producer, Brad Wood, and recording in the same West Side Chicago studio where she had laid down Guyville. “There were a lot of female fronted bands at the time obviously,” says Gordon. “And there was a big focus on anything coming out of Chicago because of Liz Phair and the Smashing Pumpkins. People were excited – these were songs you could sing to with heavy guitars.”
Gordon was raised in Chicago’s Gold Coast neighbourhood. Post grew up in St Louis, Missouri, on a diet of FM rock and heavy metal. They were introduced by their mutual friend, actress Lili Taylor, who felt their voices and songwriting sensibilities would work well together. They hit it off instantly and were soon inseparable. This would make the pain of their subsequent falling-out even more unbearable. And it would taint their memories of American Thighs until their reconciliation several years ago (Veruca Salt are very much a functioning band today). “The sky was the limit. I could feel that as soon as I heard our voices. It was like being skyrocketed into space really,” recalls Post. After “Seether” and American Thighs, she would go on to claim a separate slice of rock immortality as the inspiration for “Everlong” by her then-boyfriend Dave Grohl and his band Foo Fighters.
But that was all in the future when Gordon and Post started hanging out at each other’s apartments (Post was living in trendy Wicker Park, later immortalised in the John Cusack adaptation of Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity). With Gordon’s brother, Jim Shapiro, joining on drums and Steve Lack on bass and the spoiled brat from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory lending her name, Veruca Salt went from pipe dream to living, hard-rocking entity. It was just the beginning. “We were entrenched in the Chicago music scene. But it didn’t start that way,” says Post. “I was in a theatre company and waiting tables at a jazz bar. Nina worked at the Art Institute. My friends didn’t go to shows. I remember scalping a ticket to Jane’s Addiction and going on my own. I was in the pit thinking I might die tonight and it would be okay because I was in heaven.”
With “Seether” taking off, soon it was Post staring down at the heaving mosh pit. Their original indie label, Chicago’s Minty Fresh, advised they court the UK market first. That way they could return to the US with the endorsement of the British rock press. In the Nineties, acclaim in Britain was the fastest means of launching a band back in America. “Seether” duly came out on Britain on the tiny imprint Scared Hitless (which would release grand total of six singles and one LP before shuttering). “We went to London and stayed in the hotel where all the bands hung out, the Columbia,” says Gordon. “We’d be in the bar and Justine Frischmann and Damon Albarn would be there. The guys from Suede were just hanging out talking.” “The UK always gives a band a run for its money,” adds Post. “You’re either the British darling or you’re not. Even if you are the darling you’re still spat upon and mocked. We were given a lot of press. We were also jeered at. We weren’t taken seriously at first. We had to prove our worth. There was one early headline: Dig the New Breeders…In the British press the Breeders thing was inescapable. We would bristle at that.”
This was the Nineties and so sexism was obviously an issue too. (In 2017, Post was one of 38 women to accuse film director James Toback of sexual harassment.) A radio station that had already playlisted Garbage or – sorry Louise – The B***ers might decline to spin Veruca Salt because then there would be women all over the airwaves and who knew what might happen? “The patriarchy was firmly in place,” says Gordon. “The structure was solid. We were always bumping up against things. You’d go to radio stations and meet the programme director. They wanted a picture and would put their arms around you and maybe grope you a little. They would put their hand on your ass. There was that all the time.” Back in Chicago, meanwhile, the mother of all backlashes was building. The city that gave the world indie fundamentalist Steve Albini and jazz fusionists Tortoise is, or at least was, notoriously judgemental about artists daring to go out into the world and have success. As two strong women not in the least embarrassed about being on MTV, Gordon and Post were seen as fair game. Where the British music press was gently mocking, in the Chicago media the daggers were out.
“After we switched over to Geffen and started playing bigger venues and were on MTV all the time… there was a pushback. There was a feeling of, ‘Who are they…why did they sell out so fast?’ In our mind we had done nothing of the kind,” says Gordon. “Selling out is when you do something you don’t believe in. There were definitely a few nasty articles written. It was hurtful, I’m not going to lie. We were in our twenties. You care what other people think. Nobody likes to read anything mean about themselves. It didn’t feel good.” But the real missteps were by Veruca Salt themselves. With “Seether” a sensation either sides of the Atlantic – it was voted number three in the influential John Peel Festive 50 that Christmas – there was pressure to deliver with their next single. This caused more conflict than it should have. Would they go with a song written by Gordon (as “Seether” was) or one by Post? Individual band members had their own opinions.The label had its suggestions. Their management brought another, contradictory perspective. It was a just one big hot mess. To make the situation even more fraught, after they had settled on “Number One Blind”, there was a panic over the video. Steve Hanft, who had directed Beck’s “Loser”, was hired to shoot the promo. But Gordon felt the slightly whimsical results weren’t quite right (she has since changed her mind). She talked Post into vetoing in. From Geffen’s perspective it was the beginning of the end. For a red hot band to flub their big moment in such a fashion was unacceptable. “It was very expensive,” recalls Post. “We just freaked out and didn’t deliver it to MTV, which was unheard of at the time. At that point the label pulled back their enthusiasm and their push for the album.”
Gordon and Post had a nasty and seemingly irreconcilable parting of the ways in 1998. It was described by AllMusic as a “a bitter falling out over stolen boyfriends, stabbed backs, and general unpleasantness”. Gordon started a solo career; Post took over as solitary front woman of Veruca Salt. She poured all her anxiety and resentment – she had recently broken up with Grohl too – into the 2000 LP Resolver, which yielded lyrics such as: “She didn’t get it, so f*** her.” The sundering of the friendship made memories of what they had been through hugely bittersweet, for Gordon especially. There is a happy ending, however. In 2013, Gordon and Post met for dinner in Los Angeles, where they both now live with their husbands and children. Older and possibly wiser, they let bygones by bygones. “For now let’s just say this: hatchets buried, axes exhumed,” went an announcement on Veruca Salt’s Facebook page, confirming the band was getting back together again. An album, Ghost Notes, followed and the group remains an ongoing project.
“We were so naive,” recalls Gordon. “We thought it would never end. We thought we’d never break up. You look back on it the same way you would a romantic relationship. It’s much sweeter now that we’re friends again. So much of those early records were about my relationship with Louise, our friendship. Two women conquering the world.” Gordon still feels guilty about one incident in particular. In summer 1995, they were offered an American arena tour with heavy rock band Live (of whom they were not fans) and PJ Harvey (with whom they were borderline obsessed). Post was at the time recovering from a slipped disc and in no state to go on the road. Gordon, worried about missing the chance of a lifetime, pressured her friend to pick up her Stratocaster and walk. “It was a huge opportunity,” says Gordon. “We really pushed her to go on tour even with her injured back. We made all sorts of plans for what would happen if she was in pain. We had a couch on stage where she could lie down and play her solos. We had a back up soloist that came on tour with us. He never played a note. Louise wore a neck brace on stage that we tried to make it look cool. Looking back you think, ‘Why did we do that to her?’ I remember arguing with her, fighting with her about it, and siding with our managers.” Post, her bandmate will be relieved to discover, does not bear a grudge. “I was just lying in my apartment watching Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. I was so miserable. All I could do was lie on my side and watch movies. They made me go out on this tour which was tremendous. I’ve got to tell Nina to let that one go.”  From: https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/veruca-salt-american-thighs-anniversary-band-nina-gordon-louise-post-interview-a9121396.html

The Black Crowes - Cursed Diamond

As bold and ramshackle, heartfelt and personal as rock & roll itself, Amorica finds the Black Crowes finding themselves. Still defiant in their untrendy insistence that the guitar bravado and rebel pose of classic rock furnishes an inspiration as authentic as that of blues and country, the Atlanta sextet now spin off from their heavy '60s and '70s influences so fluidly that they shake freer than ever before from the retrorock tag that has dogged the band. The Crowes haven't ceased their cocky pillaging of the universal jukebox - echoes of the Stones and Led Zep resound - but in jolting the mix with offbeat kicks (Latino rhythms, wah-wah guitar, strange vocal treatments), they sound remarkably fresh.
A knockout debut, Shake Your Money Maker (1990), presented brothers Chris and Rich Robinson, a fab rhythm section and guest godfather Chuck Leavell (keyboardist for the Allmans and Stones) reeling off Faces-meets-Skynyrd riffs more toughly than anyone since their homeboys the Georgia Satellites. At a time when most young players seemed hardly to have heard of Otis Redding, the Crowes' crunching cover of "Hard to Handle" was a reminder, and with "She Talks to Angels" (still their finest tune), they showed a gift for unsentimental balladry. Southerners rekindling the Keith Richards motifs Keith had copped from earlier Southern R&B was a cool payback; Chris' gruff vocals suggested a pre-sell-out Rod Stewart or an unwearied Paul Rodgers; and with grunge yet to explode, the sound was enough to feed guitar-hungry hordes. With its stronger material ("Thorn in My Pride," "Bad Luck Blue Eyes Goodbye") allowed to meander, The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion (1992) disappointed - even if Chris' delivery had matured and the band's rock power remained unchecked.
Amorica boosts and expands on that power. A wham-bam number, "Gone," with drummer Steve Gorman dealing vicious syncopation of the sort John Bonham patented, starts things off, and the Crowes pounce lean and brutal. "Gone" is prime Chris Robinson, all wry phrasing and desperado attitude. Pissed, nervy, stubborn, Chris writes best about the inchoate urge for deliverance ("Want you to burn me, baby.... Cover your eyes with my ashes/C'mon, why don't you pray for me/Sit back, and watch my divine spark flash"). It's less his gypsy scarves and Between the Buttons drag that make him a true rocker than his unquenched restlessness. "A Conspiracy" hits equally hard, but "High Head Blues" shows new range: Eric Bobo's percussion lends a low-riding strut, a relaxed assurance the song shares with the countryish "Wiser Time," its pedal steel provided by American Music Club's Bruce Kaphan.
"Cursed Diamond" updates the rhythm & blues testifying the Crowes first assayed on Money Maker's "Jealous Again." It's another Chris Robinson confessional ("I hate myself/Doesn't everybody hate themselves"), as is "NonFiction" - the latter, however, brightens its cartoon gloom ("Some like their water shallow/And I like mine deep/Tied to the bottom/With a noose around my feet") with humor ("While you pull your hair out/I buy the drinks at the bar") and Eddie Harsch's delicate keyboard work.
Electric piano and the chugging guitar interplay of Rich Robinson and Marc Ford move "She Gave Good Sunflower" closest to the Rod Stewart/Ron Wood stomp the Crowes' have flashed before. It leads into the only real clunker, "P. 25 London," a rocker ruined by an inane Alice Cooper-like chorus ("Empty bottles saviors they crawl.... There's a hornet's nest in my head"). The epic "Ballad of Urgency," however, redeems Amorica, and the album ends with gems: the acoustic bottleneck-powered "Downtown Money Waster" and Chris Robinson's most soulful performance yet, "Descending."
Their swagger intact and their musical inventiveness progressing, the Black Crowes are evolving like the great bands they respect. And that respect has nothing of the archivist's reverence, no follow-the-leader submissiveness. Ultimately, the Crowes are classic rockers simply in their unholy worship of the groove.  From: https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-album-reviews/amorica-190733/

MediaBanda - Bombas en el Aire

MediaBanda is a multigenerational group founded by Cristián Crisosto (Fulano, Santiago del Nuevo Extremo), which is positioned as one of the most important exponents of fusion and avant-garde in the Chilean music scene. It is characterized by its eclectic and energetic proposal, enriched by various styles such as rock, jazz, funk, pop, Latin American fusion and contemporary music, among others. Throughout their 18 years of experience, they have performed numerous concerts and participated in various festivals within Chile, as well as toured Europe and Mexico, supported by four studio albums.
“Bombas en el Aire” is the band's fourth studio album, which had to wait seven years after its predecessor album “Siendo Perro”, where there were also changes in the members, one of the most notable being the vocalist Arlette. Jequier. This is how the album is presented, which maintains the experimental sense and versatility in its musicality.
The album begins with “I learned about Facebook”, whose sound details at the beginning comprise an orchestral and experimental perception typical of seventies styles. The textures that are formed from synthesizers, percussion and string instruments give us the prelude to the variety and musical exquisiteness brought to listeners who enjoy the experimental. The rhythmic structure is generated by all the instruments, giving an organized and sequenced atmosphere by different tempos and moments where jazz madness is unleashed; ending the song with the same instrumental sequencing created.
“Bombas en el Aire”, the album's eponymous song, begins with the prominence of the saxophones and the rhythm of the bass and guitar. Here, the vocalist takes more prominence: “Bombs in the air. There is no one to breathe anymore, there is no one to breathe our air.” The rhythm from here on takes on more rock nuances, with marked presences of the string instruments while the synthesizer adds melodic details in the background. Likewise, wind instruments have their space; each moment being a sum where they mark the general structure of the song. In the middle of the song, the guitar solo is spectacular, where it shows off various techniques such as hammering and tapping. All from a shred style.
Then we have “El Sofá”, which begins with a synthesizer that sets the rhythm together with the drums and bass. From the beginning it transmits lucidity and stillness, despite the marked rhythmic structure and with the jazz imprint that challenges the listener to predict what is to come. Later, the saxophones are added that are assembled with the synthesizer; resulting in a relaxing melody. When the voice is included, the rhythm continues its course but with some breaks, evolving to greater complexity from the drums and in the bass line when autotune is added to the voice. Reaching the end, there is a break where it becomes more atmospheric, where the guitar marks the chords with delay. At the end, the synthesizer takes on a more spatial timbre, giving a more enveloping nuance at the end of the song.
“Mi Ego me Odia” is a song whose development ranges from quieter moments to more rock and funk-style musical landscapes, resulting in an entertaining song. We advance towards “Perfectible”, which begins with the wind instruments already the protagonists at this point, giving the prelude to the rhythmic structure generated by the drums and bass. Without a doubt, throughout the album, one of the elements to highlight is the complexity in the rhythm, where the bass-drums relationship is essential for the general instrumental assembly. In this song, the different harmonies generated by synthesizer and guitars also stand out, which adorn the song with an experimental sound, where there are even moments more linked to hip-hop. “Plausible Deterioration of Erroneous Icons” is the sixth song that presents us with a softer and calmer beginning, and then jumps to the intensity of the participation of all the instruments. From rock to more hip-hop moments, we have a song that stands out musically for its ability to naturally intertwine the different genres involved, not forcing bridges between one moment and another.
Then we have “ Wikistan”, the longest song on the album, which begins with an interesting bass line adorned by more crystalline textures provided by the synthesizer, and then the drums and electric guitar are added. From it’s beginnings it transmits a certain relaxation made more complex by the different textures given by keys, strings and winds; where the voice is finally added. Likewise, the complement given by the guest DJ 's arrangements is appreciated, making the scratches that adorn the song very well. In the middle of the song, we have a notable saxophone solo that is complemented by the multiplicity of instruments that the band contains, ending with the melody with a lot of guitar gain.
Coming to the end of the album, we have “Mediabanda”, which begins with some jazz synth chords, where then the drums and bass come into play with an unorthodox structure and where the synth delay generates a sense of depth to the song that, together with the singer's lyrics, generates a very pleasant sensation for the listener. The required saxophones are added later, showing once again the quality and execution technique present in all the songs. Later we have a notable bass solo, which finally translates into a more intense and stimulating rhythm, where each second generates a restlessness that finally sees its end with some last melodies generated by the saxophones.
Without a doubt, the album is notable for its harmonic, melodic and rhythmic complexity, where the musicians stand out for their variety of techniques that they execute in different rhythmic and genre scenarios. Likewise, being an experimental album, it constantly tests us and takes us on a small journey full of musicality and varied atmospheres. A sign that in Chile there are top-level musicians.  From: https://rocklegacy-cl.translate.goog/2021/05/21/review-mediabanda-bombas-en-el-aire/?_x_tr_sl=es&_x_tr_tl=en&_x_tr_hl=en&_x_tr_pto=sc

Döda Havet - Flykten

Once in a while, an album shows up, almost out of nowhere, and instantly knocks me out cold, managing to hit all my weak spots and settle firmly in my ears. The Swedes in Döda Havet are balancing perfectly on that edge between being progressive rock, and on the other side clearly coming from the side of alternative / art-rock. Still, there are enough progressive elements and quirky songwriting here that any fan of bands like Anathema, Anekdoten, or late-era Marillion should find plenty to enjoy about “Tid och rum” (Time and Space). One of my fellow Progspace writers mentioned that they also feel like a sibling of Vulkan, another excellent Swedish band we reviewed here just a short while ago, and I can’t help but agree with him. It feels natural to describe the band simply as “progressive rock”, but that might conjure up images of the big 70’s bands. Döda Havet has definitely some of those genes in its DNA, but there is a much more contemporary, modern feel to the band’s music.
From reading my initial paragraph, I guess it’s apparent that I did not know about the band before this album dropped into my email.  But going back into their discography revealed only one previous release, namely their self-titled debut album from 2016. And honestly, since discovering the band, I’ve spent quite a few hours listening to the debut album as well. It’s excellent in so many ways, but this review is, of course, not about that album. I feel “positive melancholia” is a good way to describe the emotional impact of Döda Havets music. It’s that kind of good memory that shows up in your mind occasionally, of places and events in your life you enjoyed or people you loved, but at the same time a sense of sadness that you can’t go back there. Those moments are indeed lost in time and space.
There is a sense of longing in the swedes music, exemplified in a track like ‘Atlantis Mitt’ (which could mean “My Atlantis” in Swedish, but also “the centre of Atlantis”). A haunting, wistful melody, carried efficiently and with great pathos by vocalist and guitarist Staffan Stensland Vinrot. The track communicates a longing to find yourself, or perhaps your place among people. A feeling of finally returning to some honest sense of self. Vinrot is the core the band was built around, as the idea of putting together a band around his compositions happened after he recorded his music in the studio of, now Döda Havet bassist, Lawrence Mackrory.  I haven’t been able to find out if “Tid och rum” was recorded at the same location, but on this album, the sound is precise, warm and pleasant. As a side note, fans of more classic progmetal might, of course, know Mackrory from death/thrashers Darkane, or for being the vocalist on the original edition of Andromeda‘s debut album “Extension of the Wish.
A part of why I enjoyed this so much, is the lyrical content, where I, as a Norwegian, am luckily familiar enough with the Swedish language, to enjoy them. They are beautiful little poems and generally add to the overall melancholic feel of the album. I’m not gonna try my hand at translating the lyrical content, as with poetry or lyrics, I feel meaning often gets lost (or even added) in translation. But I can say as much as they are connected to the human experience, whether its dreams, mental-health, loneliness or a longing to find back to your true “home” and with that your honest self. I feel like Stensland Vinrot genuinely has something he wants to communicate with his lyrics and that sincerity is apparent in his writings.
After several listens, it starts to become clear how rich and detailed the music of Döda Havet really is. The songs are all layered with delicate melodies, supported by a warm hearty pulse perfectly applied by Mackrory, on top of a rock-solid rhythmic foundation built by drummer Martin Pettersson. Together with the guitars from the above mentioned Vinrot and Peter Garde Lindholm they create a surprisingly measured, yet massive sound. Listen to the ending of the second track of the album ‘Arcana’ for an example of the heavy groove the band at times creates. The heaviness mentioned above is perfectly contrasted and amplified by remarkable additions from keyboardist Julia Stensland Vinrot. She masterfully enhances the atmospheres created by the band, at times carrying the songs, and at other times supplementing the sound with delicious little intricacies. If there is an “unsung hero” in this band, it is her. Listen to the details of one of my favourite tracks, the heart-wrenchingly beautiful ‘Hjärnspöket” to hear examples of what I’m trying to describe.
In a genre where it feels like every other release is a 75-minute concept album, it is refreshing to receive a shorter, more concise release. “Tid och rum” is just around 35 minutes, and I feel that is the perfect length. That does not mean I do not want to hear more music from the band, but for this experience, it’s just what’s needed. Eight self-contained songs, uniformly connected by the general mood of the album. Nothing more, nothing less. I won’t go on any longer about the sophistication of this release. I’ll just say that“Tid och rum”, ladies and gentlemen, is a modest little masterpiece!  From: https://theprogspace.com/doda-havet-tid-och-rum/

Gaye Su Akyol - Bir Yarali Kustum

Born in Istanbul in 1985, Gaye Su Akyol studied social anthropology at university and went on to forge a path as a successful painter, having her work exhibited both in Turkey and abroad. At the same time she also performed in the bands Mai (2004) and Toz Ve Toz (2007), and in 2009 she formed the duo Seni Görmem İmkansız (It's Impossible For Me To See You) with Tuğçe Şenoğul. After several years Akyol embarked on a solo career and, utilising the services of the three-piece band Bubituzak, released her first full-length Develerle Yaşıyorum (I’m Living With Camels) in 2014. Mixing up traditional Turkish melodies and structures with elements of psychedelia, surf rock and grunge, underpinned by a distinctively elegant and at times hypnotic vocal delivery, she was soon established as one of the country's most compelling contemporary voices with one eye locked on the past and the other fixed on future horizons. In addition, the unconventional theatricality she lends to her craft, whether performing live or conceptualising album artwork, provides a visual spectacle that seems perfectly married to her music. In 2016 Akyol released Hologram İmparatorluğu (Hologram Empire) on Glitterbeat Records and, further propelling the expansion of her musical boundaries, the new album İstikrarlı Hayal Hakikattir (Consistent Fantasy Is Reality) is released on 26 October, also on Glitterbeat. Shane Woolman caught up with her on a recent visit to the UK.

Shane Woolman: What are some of your earliest influences?

Gaye Su Akyol: The first things that really influenced me were my mother’s musical tastes and her beautiful voice. She was frequently listening to Turkish classical music at home from the only channel that existed on television, which was the government’s channel, and it was always playing old-school classical Turkish songs so I was always listening and trying to sing them. I see the essence of this when I look at my vocal technique. My second biggest crush was when I was about ten years old and I remember the first time I heard my older brother play Nirvana and my mind was blown, you know? I couldn’t believe it and I asked him "what’s that?" and he explained that this is Nirvana. This was in 1995 so Kurt Cobain was already dead. This was my second crush. After that I tried to find my own influences, digging into music with the help of my uncle who was listening to sixties and seventies rock’n’roll like Deep Purple, Led Zeppelin and the Rolling Stones. I found my own influences like Dick Dale, The Ventures, The Lively Ones, Jefferson Airplane, Morphine, Mudhoney, Sonic Youth and after that, when I was seventeen, it was artists like Nick Cave and Tom Waits – there were so many bands but these are just the first names that I remember. There’s also a long list of Turkish musicians like Erkin Koray, Barış Manço, Moğollar, Selda Bağcan, Müzeyyen Senar, Ulvi Cemal Erkin, Münir Nurettin Selçuk, Zeki Müren and so on.

Your father is a well-known artist, did he influence your desire to be an artist?

Of course, he had a huge impact. You know, when you are a child you assume that everybody’s parents are like yours, it’s such a big delusion. My father was always a free soul, he is a rock star in another universe [laughs]. Not the perfect type of father but one of a kind. Our house was covered with his paintings on the walls which I grew up looking at, writing stories in my mind all the time. He is also good at poems, words and metaphors, and he was always reading from his own poems or others from his favourite poets who were mostly his friends. Actually he influenced me with his way of combining his art with the culture he grew up in, without any prejudice and looking from a wider perspective. This is what makes his art original, instinctive, universal and timeless I guess. “Being yourself” is the key here. Have you seen the movie Big Fish? In it there’s a fantastic father who’s always telling amazing stories and you can’t be sure whether they are fake or real - his son in the film is not sure either - but who cares? And what does “real” mean anyway?

So music played a big part in your family life?

None of my family were professional musicians but lots of different genres were played at home which led me to a wide selection of music. My mother was listening to old, classical Turkish musicians like Müzeyyen Senar, Zeki Müren and Münir Nurettin Selçuk, while my father was listening to Turkish folk music like Ruhi Su and Aşık Veysel, and also Western classical music like Mozart, Beethoven, Stravinsky and Brahms. We were also living on the same street as my grandparents and my uncle. My uncle played the bağlama [a traditional Turkish stringed instrument] and was traveling a lot because of his job as a journalist. He collected musical instruments from all over the world, especially percussive ones, and we used to improvise with them when we got together. He also had a great collection of rock music from the 1960s and ‘70s. And my brother was listening to rock’n’roll and grunge bands so home was the beginning of my musical adventure.

It’s like the essence of what your music is.

Of course, and there’s so much music that I discovered later and all of this comes together, I guess.

You’re a big fan of Zeki Müren, who’s a very important figure in Turkish music and entertainment. What is it about him that you really admire?

You know, he had a unique voice and he didn’t look like anybody else or act like anybody else. He was one of a kind. He was also a dreamer, a revolutionary guy in Turkey’s conservative reality with his music and with his vision. He was an LGBT person so he made people accept him just by being the way he was, and this was something very huge and important for Turkey, and for the world of course. He created a revolution, that’s the point – with the combination of his music and his appearance, his choices – he carried classical Turkish music to a new level, took it from a small region and spread it to almost all of the social layers, he made it popular and glamorous. You know it’s not that easy to be an LGBT artist but he succeeded while gaining a lot of respect. And he was appearing on the government’s channels with all his clothes, jewellery and make up, which was really very surrealistic. He was the designer of these fantastic clothes by the way. So the point is this: he was like a superhero who damaged the norms while creating his own normal, and he made everybody believe in it.

He did a lot to make Turkish society accepting of openly gay artists. Is the Turkish music scene and society in general relaxed about that today?

Honestly this is a very complicated issue. I think it’s the same throughout the world, it has been changing a bit maybe in the last ten years, but I feel that people are very two-faced. The society we live in is not honest about gay people, minorities, different subcultures or inclinations. Frankly this is also the government’s conscious political view. To be able to control the people, they need obedient, regular, “normal” robots. So if we go back to your question: everybody will accept a gay artist until they are open!
This is what is going on in Turkey. Zeki Müren didn’t say at any point that he was gay but of course it was so obvious from everything he did. It feels like it’s okay until you confess it, not just in Turkey but in the world. It’s a great dissimulation. Nobody ever had the courage to openly ask him about it, or when they did he changed the subject or something, so I wish we could have a world where everybody can be who they want to be and confess anything they have inside, this is the freedom that we really need.
But society is two-faced. There are lots of gay social media phenomenons who have two or three million followers on Instagram in Turkey, they earn money from people’s enormous interest, but society refuses to see gay people in any other professions like the health industry or education system. They are only visible or to be accepted in the “entertainment industry” or live their life closely to be able to do their job. This is a taboo that needs to be broken as soon as possible and we should start to discuss it publicly.

Earlier you mentioned Selda. Was she a big influence?

Yeah. She’s a great musician with such a unique voice, she’s a producer, record label owner, she wrote songs, she is super talented about covering old folk songs and bringing new aspects to them. And what makes her story more unique is that she is also a revolutionary, a very important figure in liberalisation. You know, she always talked what she believed and was put in jail sometimes – so she was always for freedom. That’s why I’m really interested in her opinions, her music and her importance in Turkish music.

How was it to perform on the same bill as Selda recently?

It was an honour and a pleasure for me, a dream come true. But the funny part is we had never played together in Turkey, this was the first time. It was really beautiful, an historic moment.

Do you see yourself as continuing the issues of social justice, the things that Selda was concerned with in her music… do you see yourself as part of that same wave?

Different waves but the same sea! I think everybody is making their own waves and I prefer that, and of course Selda and I share the same ideas, the same philosophy about freedom, free minds, the equal rights of people, liberalisation. Whoever is really into freedom, we are in the same sea.

What are your thoughts on the current Turkish psych revival?

There are so many great, young bands in Turkey right now that really make cool music… it’s because, you know, when the pressure gets bigger, the art needs a way to express itself and grows insidiously. This is maybe one of the only good side effects of the situation there. But still most of them need to be more courageous and they shouldn’t be afraid of their own culture.

The title of your new album translates as Consistent Fantasy Is Reality which refers to a concept called consistent dreaming, which you regard as the strongest option people have "to challenge organised evil and the horrible reality it creates"... could you explain this idea a little further?

We are living in a dualist world full of injustice, inequality, and grief but also love, passion, and art at the same time. Life turns into what you are convinced of. People looking at the same point can perceive totally different things, so there is not “one reality”, there are actually infinite realities even in one mind. Reality changes according to an individual’s perception. So at this point my mind asks the question: if the reality we are living in is quite absurd but the only thing that makes it real is consistency, then what is the difference between a consistent fantasy and reality? We do not know if we are living in a simulation or holographic world but I do know that the software of this life is based on “dreaming the reality”. You can connect this with quantum theory or anything else. The world is ruled by idiots who lack imagination while the rest of the world feels powerless and hopeless. What these people are missing is the power of consistent dreaming. If we see the same dream then it becomes our mass reality and the only thing left is to take action which is quite simple when you believe in it. As Picasso once said “Everything you can imagine is real” and none of the organised evil can survive against it.

How long did the album take to record? Were most of the songs written in advance of the recording process or did they develop in the studio?

We recorded the guitar, bass, drums and percussion in three days. Then the additional instruments and vocals took a couple of weeks because of the concert traffic. After releasing the second album Hologram Imparatorluğu in 2016 the new songs started appearing and they were ready to be recorded in advance of the recording process.

The instruments used on the album have been expanded with the inclusion of the bağlama, saxophone, trumpet and electronic beats – was this a conscious step or more of a natural progression? Are there any specific sounds that you would like to incorporate in your music that you haven't yet used?

I love to expand the boundaries, to experiment and develop new sounds. I like to bring together the sounds that are not so much familiar to each other. It’s like in some languages there are words that don't exist in your mother language, so you realise that you’ve never felt that feeling before you heard that word. This is the same when it comes to music: the meeting of two harmonically unfamiliar sounds gives me the feeling of enthusiasm. When writing the songs I hear particular sounds and instruments for specific parts in my head while arranging them and the instrument serves the feelings and the mood. The arrangement of a song changes everything so I like to expand the musical boundaries as much as possible.

It's interesting to hear the cover version of Bariş Manço's “Hemşerim Memleket Nere” on your new album – the song's themes of equality are still extremely relevant in today's world. If you had to choose an English-language song to cover, what would it be?

“Hemşerim Memleket Nere” is a magnificent song with its lyrics, arrangement and Anatolian Rock essence. It is topical but also universal with it’s philosophy, metaphors and sounds. As you said, it is relevant in today’s world and that’s why I wanted to cover it. If I had to choose an English song to cover, it would be “Good” or “You Look Like Rain” by Morphine. I would put some Turkish instruments in it; probably bağlama, bendir and strings. Last year we did a cover of “Love Buzz” by Shocking Blue, also covered by Nirvana, and we sometimes play it at our concerts but haven’t released it yet.

You've recently been involved in the soundtrack of a Turkish television production called Dip. How different was the process of working on this project compared to recording an album? Are soundtracks an area you'd like to explore more in the future?

I love to collaborate with artists from different disciplines, either for a soundtrack to a film I like or something visual. Recording an album is pure freedom for me, I have my own plans, rules, and aesthetic preferences which makes the process more comfortable, but a soundtrack is a mutual relationship with lots of parameters and the process of working is often bound by the demands of the collaborator. Yet it is enjoyable when you like each other’s works. We recently performed in an old cinema, soundtracking an old Turkish B-Movie classic called Yilmayan Seytan while watching the film with the audience which was such great fun. These kind of unique ideas really motivate me. There were several new tracks made just for the film and we’re planning to release them as an album in 2019.

Have you got any other projects planned for the future that you'd like to talk about?

An album called Remiks Imparatorluğu will be released in 2019 which was curated by Kaan Düzarat and consists of remixes of tracks on my second album by DJs from around the world. Also a documentary film about Hologram İmparatorluğu will be released. It’s by Irmak Altıner and features the recording process and footage from various concerts plus music writer Murat Meriç’s analysis of my music’s historical and sociological context. A cover album with an anthology of old Turkish songs is another project for 2019.

From: https://www.thewire.co.uk/in-writing/interviews/gaye-su-akyol-interview