Flaty interrogates dance music traditionalism for Gost Instrument, Scratcha DVA helps plot the UK’s new discontinuum, absolutely vital reissues from Midnight Drive and Seven Hills complicate our understanding of early 90s dance music, a trio of new records on Ossia’s mini label empire takes the listener deeper into his singular vision of eccentric electronic music, and new records from Don’t DJ and Harmonious Thelonious demonstrate rhythm’s complex relationship with cultural appropriation. Plus, plenty of new albums, reissues, and twelves covered alongside some of last week’s most engaging music writing.Read More
New records—and a couple I missed when they came out back in Februrary—from Locust on Transfusions, Shiva Feshareki’s turntablist mindfucks, Paleman on Nonplus, Oscillate Tracks, Xao on Astral Black, Atariame’s mix for Métron, and much, much more….Read More
Lots of ground to cover this week including whimsical music from Ireland and Belgium, European ambient, Maloya-electronic cafe music of the mind, and adventurous chill-out room excursions. Also, reviews of new records from Hamilton Scalpel, Cressida, ELLLL, Roger 23, Jeremy Hyman, and the Only Ruins label.Read More
Hachi machi! Between taking a week off of posting and the spring release schedule kicking into gear, there is more music to cover than is reasonable at the moment. As someone who’s most alive when drowning in excess, that’s about as ideal as it gets in my book. Let’s get to it…Read More
Plenty of new music to celebrate including the head-spinning debut from electro savant Vivian Koch, J - Shadow’s mind-mangling low-end explorations, labyrinthine techno from P/Rgm, Tarkovsky-inspired mood music from Aponogeton, an overlooked gem from Belgium’s DSR Lines, and the latest from Carl Stone.Read More
The second February Friday of 2019 was a bit slow in the release department, but that just means that there has been plenty I’ve already overlooked this year. In this round-up, I take a look at a recent Iury Lech vinyl reissue, Ossia’s stellar debut album for Blackest Ever Black and a new record from cyber-industrial moodmakers Black Rain. Also up is the latest album from reformed fourth world jammers The Chi Factory for Astral Industries, a repressed platter of oddball electro from Rotterdam’s Frustrated Funk, the avant-pop experiments of Paul DeMarinis, and a dollar bin find from the year 2000 in the form of Karen Ramirez’s filter house bomb “Looking For Love.” Records from Deadboy, RX-101, and inspired tribal disco from Italy’s Fabrizio Fattori are covered as well. Pure nommage.Read More
It’s been a whole week since i last posted and thus have a week’s worth of music to share with you. Today’s tracks generally fall into the typically unrelated categories of deep techno and japanese idol music with a solid serving of post-genre experimentation and a palette cleanser from the one and only Steve Gurley.Read More
Covering a lot of ground in this one as we take a look back at many of the gems offered up by the month of January so far that weren’t covered in that last post. Touching on some of the twelves (Norm Talley, Substance, Random XS), albums (Nkisi, Jay Glass Dubs, and reissues (Julius Eastman, Michael O’Shea, Groupe de Recherches Musicales) of note before taking a deeper look at records from Eomac, Piezo’s Ansia label, Duckett, Pavel Milyakov, Glyn Hendrie, and Richard Pinhas alongside a couple tangents on the scourge of the DJ-producer and the neutering of ambient music. (In Austin Carr voice) Let’s throw the hammer down!Read More
I’ve been leaning on music even more than usual and casting a wide net that ranges from 180 bpm Singeli barnburners from Nyege Nyege Tapes’ first offering for 2019 to an intoxicating set from Nigerian composer Hama for Sahel Sounds and midwestern electro from Pittsburgh’s is/was imprint. Looking beyond recent releases, I’ve also highlighted a supple Joey Beltram remix from 1994 and a 2002 peak-time banger from the late Marcus Intalex that marries French Touch-style sampling with Omni Trio piano rhapsodizing. Let’s get it!Read More
We are dealing with a younger AI that has taken over our culture and internet. Someone told me about mumble rap. Well, you gotta understand that’s how the new rappers wanna do it. And this AI is the same way. It has its own sensibilities. It’s like mumble rap. Now, the pre-universal organic AIs? Those are like Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, or The Temptations or something! Totally different approach to existence.
Records from the likes of Lyra Valenza, a trio of Hakuna Kulala artists, Treo, Roger Doyle, and Dreamscape<3<3<3Read More
Been binging on the ‘scogs the past few weeks—well, more so than usual, I guess—to cast one last net across the bloated reissue market. Today’s it’s a groove-addled selection of post-ESG punk funk, Belgian minimalwave, Eurojazz head nodders, and a Timbaland-adjacent bangerRead More
Complexity is beautiful. Multiplicity is freedom. Difference is destiny.
Tracks from the likes of Dream Cycle, Future Beat Alliance, Yagya, Sir Lord Commix, The Untouchables, and some primetime 90s Italian house music all contained within for your snacking pleasure.Read More
I’ve always had a sweet spot for arpeggiations, especially those employed in the eternal quest of crafting intelligence-baffling machine funk. Been a melancholic week both in the mind and outside my window, so I’ve been digging through the infinite bins of emotionally-reserved party rockers. Tracks from Tony Carey, James Shinra, A Credible Eye Witness, and Syz included within.Read More
The rate of exciting new releases tends to hit a blinding velocity at this time of the year as one can barely keep up with records from past faves that compete for mental space alongside newer voices rising up. After a brief update from Buttechno’s ever-promising Rassvet Records and its latest missive from the big room-primed producer Shadowax, we check in with new twelves from the likes of new Hessle Audio signing Shelley Parker, Timedance and Ilian Tapes vet Laksa, and a recent Parris remix for Happa before closing things with the latest rave fetish from XL and some Bristol Fuck Punk courtesy of Bad Tracking.Read More
I fucking adore Thanksgiving. And like everything in life, it’s a ritual that is directly rooted in the exploitation and suffering of others. Though I can totally dig those who wish to not celebrate it at as a result, it’s always felt far more subversive, to me at least, to run with it and genuinely celebrate love and gratitude (while throwing the fuck down in the kitchen and disowning the day’s historical instantiation). I learned how to cook as a pre-teen from my father and the day has always been one in which we’re up by 9am (at the latest) and usually cooking until 4 or 5 (right now I’m just warming the bench while he dismantles the turkey prior to roasting). I mean, really, what other holiday is simply about food and family? Like, that’s it. Just eat and love (and be loved). Whether it’s your biological family or an ad hoc one assembled from friends and loved ones, it’s a day to actually reflect on the fabric that binds us together and transmute excess into something far more, well, spiritual. If family is the vehicle through which to embrace difference, Thanksgiving could also be titled Difference Day as it’s a day to let personalities and lives distinct from your own wash over you and be at peace with them. Amen. Tunes from the likes of Terrence Dixon, ASC, Pangaea, and a double dub serving from a Tadd Mullinix project and the OG’s Earthquake!Read More
I was informed by a friend that my recent MP3 blog-esque music dumps was causing his iPhone browser to crash, so I’m going to try and cut that out (but fear not, so much music one click away:) Anyways, as you can glean from the title of this post, been feeling especially fatigued by the affected all-knowingness that seems to be a hallmark of internet journalism. Whether it’s arts writers praising a show’s tokenist diversity efforts in lieu of any analysis that goes beyond superficialities or the way so much personal taste seems to represent a grocery list these days, the end result seems to always be the same for me: staggering dullness (which seems to be the defining aesthetic of this age). And don’t get it twisted; I’m all for people joining the social justice party. But don’t assume that one’s inclusivist politics always makes for a particularly compelling critical hermeneutics (even if doing so gets you all dem clicks). Of course, it’s always a bit too easy to hone in on what one doesn’t like rather than seeking out things to affirm, so I’ll put a pin in the whinging and invite you to join me for some recent jams from the likes of Well Street Records, Max Loderbauer, Burnt Friedman and Ekman alongside a killer Morgan Geist repress and a bruising archival release of machinic riddims circa 1980-1986. Let’s get it!Read More
A kinetic bombardment or a kinetic orbital strike is the hypothetical act of attacking a planetary surface with an inert projectile, where the destructive force comes from the kinetic energy of the projectile impacting at very high velocities. The concept originated during the Cold War….Kinetic bombardment has the advantage of being able to deliver projectiles from a very high angle at a very high speed, making them extremely difficult to defend against. In addition, projectiles would not require explosive warheads, and—in the simplest designs—would consist entirely of solid metal rods, giving rise to the common nickname "Rods from God". Disadvantages include the technical difficulties of ensuring accuracy and the high costs of positioning ammunition in orbit.
Dial Records didn’t invent the adult sophisticate house aesthetic but their legacy looms large, infecting a host of lesser labels thriving in an age of dance music conservativism. Fittingly inaugurated at the start of the 21st century, the label always felt just barely ahead of the curve, presaging a forthcoming period in which familiarity became prized over ingenuity. Black-and-white photographs transmuted into dance music, really. By the time Cleveland’s own John Roberts released his 2010 album Glass Eights, the label was fighting for its own relevancy as an army of middling producers and labels stormed the gates. While this decade has been considerably less forgiving for the label, the records it does release these days tend to pack a hefty punch, as this opening track from Roberts’ 2014 EP Ausio shifts effortlessly from evoking a post-chillwave indie rock jam sesh into a maudlin John Hughes suburaban discotheque on a spring Saturday kinda vibe, not dissimilar to this peachy-keen I:Cube jam.
With two EPs on the Infrastructure New York label that were released in 2014 and 2015, Campbell Irvine is a producer I was not familiar with. But it only took hearing ten seconds of his skipping snares and absent kicks to tickle my ears. Competing cadences and rhythmic-melodic vibrations run parallel and perpendicular alongside and across the producer’s intoned voice, which attempts to affix a linear narrative onto a discontinuum of snow-flecked ambiance.
Happy, hardcore? Hardcore happy! From an untitled collection of untitled tracks from an unknown producer that was released on the Labello Blanco Recordings imprint in 1993, the below A1 cut feels like the other side of the “We Are I.E.” rainbow. Laying down Chicago soulfulness atop a skanking white-key bass line and a basketful of breaks, all the while turning the Bomb Squad-undewritten facet of hardcore production inside out, what really takes this track to another level is the feelings-filled vocal that serves to hold the whole unholy mess together. Wow wow wow.
When did 90s hip-hop become a genre? 1994? 2014? The archives opened a long time ago, but we’re still making sense of all the pieces, none of which will fit together into one single puzzle image, no matter how hard we try. Live Squad would likely be barely a rap-historical footnote had they not worked with Tupac, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s their 1992 single “Heartless” that deserves the type of record collector fervor saved for far more tepid fare like Main Source (who are awesome, but come on, probably not worth all that ‘Scogs money). Eschewing the obvious samples for something far more impressionistic, the beat on “Heartless” rides a chugging b-line and half-articulated rhythmic utterances atop blown-out keys and the type of strings Detroit’s second wave were colonizing at the same time. Add in some hard af verses and you have a forgotten rap classic for the ages, not to mention the below cold-blooded video.
And to close things, here’s the most humble Discogs comment I’ve seen in ages….