At the midpoint of 2021, a year which has thus far brought both hopeful and more troubling signs for humanity, I’ve put together another batch of offbeat submissions sent in to Scene Point Blank. On to the weird, the wacky, the wonderful!
Vitamin – Recordings 1981
I think the first time I really got exposed to so-called “no wave” music was back in the early 2000s when I picked up a couple of DVD releases of NYC transgressive cinema. These films, by the likes of R. Kern and Nick Zedd, featured an assault of disturbing imagery and manic visuals, usually alongside noisy, discordant, frequently just broken sounding music of a sort I had never experienced before. As time went on, I discovered more of what the genre had to offer, and have always looked forward to seeing what kind of stuff gets rediscovered with time. Needless to say, when I heard about a compilation of tracks from Boston four-piece Vitamin, a band which existed from about 1979 to ‘83, I was immediately intrigued. Tinny guitar and shrieky violin (which speak to the level of “anything goes” that used to be the norm in “art punk”) placed over thunderous, pulsing bass that sounds sometimes like a plane engine readying for takeoff. And then there’s the snotty and atonal vocals. I don’t know what I’d expect teenagers to be producing in the late early ‘80s, but this probably ain’t it. Or maybe it is. It sounds like this band is positively having a blast making this cacophony. For example, “Black Sheep” features a rendition of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” interlude and the backing vocals heard on tracks like “Bag Man” and “Mommy” seem to point out the absurdity and weird humor of the whole thing. Most of this release is made up of live tracks taken from two different shows, and I’m left to wonder how exactly an audience of the time would’ve taken this material, particularly something like “Jumping Jack,” which jerks along to a serious groove before heading off a cliff around the 2/3rd mark. The golf claps say it all. This probably isn’t as vital as the Brian Eno-assembled No New York, but this collection is a fascinating representation of a very different time and an obscure, strange little musical project.
Dictaphone – Goats & Distortions 5
After a Vitamin shake of raucous energy, Dictaphone’s Goats & Distortions 5 heads into very different sonic territory. It’s as if the typically brighter “world music” has been led into a dark realm, the Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble making a more obviously ambient sort of album, the soundtrack to a night spent cruising a big city’s dark alleyways. Pensive string parts and smoky, snakelike woodwind give the album an earthy feel, but it’s universally unsettling in terms of its mood. As if some hoodlum was going to jump out from behind a stack of boxes at any minute, a quiet sense of yearning permeating everything. Ghostly voices fade in and out, sometimes almost whale-like electronic effects bubble out of the ether. The base of percussion and strings sometimes seem to mimic shifting sands, kind of like what you’d expect from Saharan jazz. Other times, they trap the listener in a doom-laden loop, perhaps nowhere more than on “Il Grande Silenzio.” Is this track titled after the film of the same name, arguably the greatest spaghetti western that few know about? Initially, “M.” almost, almost sounds like your typical sax jazz solo piece, yet by the end, it has turned into a haunting, minimalist nightmare, and later piece “Your Reign Is Over,” featuring nebulous spoken language vocals, may be the album’s most thought-provoking and enigmatic offering. There’s so much going on in many of these tracks and the record as a whole is difficult to pin down, finishing with the sparse electronic piece “Griot Dub,” yet I feel there’s, strangely, a pretty strong sense of continuity throughout. It feels like entering a singular universe rather than listening to a bunch of disparate sounds.
Arthur King – Changing Landscapes (Isle of Eigg)
Designed as a sort of sonic representation of the Scottish island referenced in its title, or perhaps more accurately, the spirits that inhabit said island, this ambitious project from the trio known as Arthur King also included a short film as well as an art installation in Los Angeles. Recorded live, the music portion of the project starts off with pulsating synths and interlocking spoken word snippets. I’m not sure there’s any real message being conveyed by the hypnotic, repeating voice clips; they seem mainly used to disorienting effect to transport the listener out of their environment. Snarling guitar eventually completes a psychedelic hodgepodge replete with squawking birds and enveloping swirling synths. The warm piano chords at the end of opener “An Sgurr” are combined with frosty ambiance in a nifty juxtaposition of serene and more foreboding elements. I rather like how the guitar is utilized throughout the album, adding a notion of grandeur alongside the rich, synthy backdrops. Perhaps unsurprisingly, “Eigg Electric” has an almost industrial energy to it, with mechanical percussion and ubiquitous whirring synth featured prominently, and finale “St. Franny’s” is more profound and genuinely reverent. Over the course of the album, sheep bleat, boats creak and shudder, waves gently lap along the beach, birds chatter and chirp. Maybe it’s because of this excellent use of found sound, but Changing Landscapes has a generally warmer vibe, capturing a sense of wonder and amazement.
Chrystal Für - Elusion
A combination of electronic and more organic tones bathe the listener in an evocative haze, with staticky found sound providing additional listening interest on occasion. Many of the tracks here are quite cinematic, with track titles that provide plenty of introspective tidbits. Speaking from a classical music standpoint, the album is immensely satisfying. Expressive piano and strings on “I’m Losing You,” for instance, reflect both the warmth of an affection that once existed and the pang that comes with realization of that sentiment dissipating, with the tinkling, almost music box-like repetition of the main theme at the end of the track suggesting a process of remembrance or feeling of nostalgia. “There Is No Second Chance” and “Spark Over the Horizon” possess an emotional heaviness, as if one is looking apprehensively at an inevitable difficulty that’ll shortly be bearing down on him, and “Nova” simmers with a quiet but increasingly alarming tension. At times reminding me of the best moments from vintage Godspeed You! Black Emperor, at others seeming to me like alternate music cues from the original Gojira, Elusion is pretty somber at its core but not a dark album by any stretch. I think it’s ultimately life-affirming, pointing out the goodness that arises even out of bad situations and, at any rate, it’s a remarkable piece of work that’s absolutely sublime to listen to.
Lift – There Is Beauty in Everything
Another ambient album...or something else entirely? What begins with pleasant synth soundscapes quickly introduces punchy percussion, otherworldly repeating vocals (and what are these vocals in the opener saying? “Hello, at cat fair?” “Alone at Camp Fear?” Your guess is as good as mine...), seemingly out-of-place guitar strumming. Something out of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop transitions into a wonky and woozy electro rock track with sporadic Chipmunk vocals and an AOR-like chorus. Lots of vocal manipulation here; it’s almost a showcase for tricks one can achieve with processing and pitch shifting. The chilled-out “Waves” makes me want to take a nap outside on a chaise lounge before a straight techno coda would jolt me awake. Then, out of nowhere, breakbeat and the almost heartwarmingly earnest “James.” Lift seems to actively be lulling a listener into expecting one thing, only to flip a switch and go an entirely different direction. Using this kind of kitchen sink approach to composition could easily turn real messy, but this album is breezy and whimsical. Clearly, there’s a method to this madness.
Kurushimi – Chaos Remains
Here we have live, improvised doom jazz at its most evil and murky. Lurching, sometimes frenzied saxophone, swirling electronic effects, menacing guitar, punishing percussion freakouts. Does one go into a jazz-ish album to headbang and thrash? Apparently. Far from lazy coffee shop material, this Australian group achieves an in-your-face, set-phasers-to-kill sound when it wants to (“Relentless Beating” just slays for all 18 seconds of its duration). And then goes deep into spacey, atmospheric jams. Even on these comparatively subdued tracks, there’s an intensity to the performance that would savage most of the noise or doom groups out there today. If it’s a weird reggae number you desire, we’ve got that in the form of “Chaos Dub.” I imagine a bus full of terrified passengers careening down a Jamaican mountainside while the completely drugged-out drivers cackles with glee. Down the stretch, the album gets even more violent and crazed on the back of tracks like “Ambulance Run,” “Necrosis,” and the psych lunacy of “Full Moon Sodomy.” I notice that this record credits a “conductor” for the performance. How does that even work?
Solarminds – Her Spirit Cracked the Sky
For my last album choice this time around, I decided to check out Her Spirit Cracked the Sky, an album written by Solarminds’ mastermind Chris Miner that dealt with his mother passing away in 2018 (story behind the album can be found here). This three-track album runs 42 minutes, so that probably gives you some idea of what we’re dealing with here. Warning siren-like synths bellow and bubble. Expressive strings play out over driving tribal percussion. It alternates between intense sections and more pensive moments, and while opener “The Gift” isn’t really funereal in nature, I can pick up traces of something vaguely similar to that, almost like it represents a period of waiting for some kind of final transition to take place, a notion reinforced by the stop-start composition. Finally, after a compelling 20-minute buildup, the track concludes with the sounds of thunder and pattering rain. By the time that “The Lie” begins, it’s clear we’ve moved beyond the earthly plane, with the continued pattering rain tying things back to world as it inevitably moves on, with heartfelt, whispered, tortured vocals nailing the emotional impact of the situation. We’re clearly in the spirit realm as “The Visit” conjures up hissing ambiance, insects chirping, disembodied voices, and just a hint of tonal sound. Things gradually become more hopeful, maybe even transcendent, and warm orchestral tones, rhythmic percussion, ringing guitar feedback, and effective use of dynamics hint at something greater, more profound that’s been achieved through this sonic journey. This album is certainly powerful, definitely takes the listener somewhere, and while I don’t know that I’d label it as a post-rock album, I think it achieves something similar to what the classics of that genre do.
One of the more intriguing things happening in 2021 is the prospect of (finally) getting some sort of disclosure about what’s really going on with UFOs/UAPs. Having been interested in such things for a while, it’ll be fascinating to see what is revealed as things move forward. I think some of the music covered herein may expand your horizons and get you in the mindset to handle that kind of information, so enjoy, and till next time, take care of yourself and each other.
