Can rock the world. Really fucking hard. If you don’t know this in your body and soul, then take the time to either A) reassess your lifestyle, or B) start listening to their albums and make life a little better for your self and loved ones alike.
Author: David James
Bill Fay
Bill Fay is a criminally forgotten singer-songwriter musician with a handful of releases under his own name, all orbiting within the few years before and after 1970, when his eponymous debut LP was released. Obscured by the curtains of history, I’m drawing them back to reveal a vital force in pop songcraft.
Wondrously baroque orchestral arrangements embrace his Dylan-echoing lyrics, conveyed via endearingly imperfect vocals. The instrumentation dances a fine line between the majestic pop of early Scott Walker and the near-cheese overblown nature of Burt Bacharach, yet feels all the more appealing for this uneasy blend. The near-awkward earnesty of his approach grows by leaps and bounds upon repeated plays, buffeting apprehension, giving way to an elated comfort with the style. There’s an nigh-indefinable attraction built in to this album which manages to defy any and all possibly-unfavorable comparisons to the exalted greats like Bob Dylan, Nick Drake, or Donovan. (I’d toss in Harry Nilsson‘s tenuous sound connection to this album because of my personal affinity and the fact that his Nilsson Schmilsson album entered my mind upon first listen). Fay simply exists in his own musical ecosystem, relating to but standing outside the historical idioms and standardized notions of his more famous peers. This certainly isn’t a perfect cup of tea for everyone, but those of us struck by the sounds of any artist I’ve mentioned here should spare the necessary time to take the whole record in.
Note: The final track, one of two bonus cuts, has an added poignancy and heft for fans of the film OLDBOY. I won’t give anything away, other than to urge a close listen, and possibly a cracked grin upon the first few seconds.
[although reissued this decade, it’s semi-difficult to obtain. thankfully amazon has a selection of new and used copies, and it’s available digitally as well]
Ras G – Brotha From Anotha Planet
Ras G & The Afrikan Space Program dropped this slice of wonky ‘ghetto sci-fi’ on an unsuspecting hiphop public this year and true to their nomenclature, it remains one of the spaciest jams I’ve heard from this region of the beat scene.
“This is the music that people will be playing in the ghetto on Mars in the year 3014.”
The above quote, direct from the artist’s page, works as a warped mission statement for this project. It speaks towards the aspiration and moody atmosphere laid down in this heady trip. Ras G works magic twisting the listener through his aural wormhole and out into a galaxy where his old school equipment reigns supreme, wielding the power to shape all unnatural forces defining his sound itself. A casual listen on moderate volume might give the impression of a rumbling, chaotic sound soiree – though like most good music of this sort, is an enveloping, otherworldly experience upon close inspection. Free up 35 minutes and sit back with some headphones (and indulge in your substance of choice, if applicable) and feel the strange gravity. Let go and be pulled through the rhythm into another realm. And be sure to wave at Hal on the way back.
[grab this for a reasonable ($6.99!) price at boomkat, Alpha Pup Records, or amazon. it’s digital-only and the first release on Flying Lotus‘ very own Brainfeeder label.]
Meanderthals – Desire Lines
Meanderthals are a truly new hybrid project comprised of Norwegian DJ Rune Lindbæk and English duo Idjut Boy, and recently released their hauntingly unified musical cornucopia of a debut album.
Desire Lines manages to swallow up everything but the kitchen sink, every touchstone of the artists’ collective sound base, while retaining a densely unified sound and singular feel throughout. The entire trip is anchored by a heavy dub foundation and shrouded in a balaeric beach party ensemble, shot through with airy acoustic and scruffy funk electric guitar. Darkly futuristic keyboard lines weave into and around breathless moments of sunny ecstasy that lift the eargasm potential far above mere dance floor slow burns. Every moment is blessed with a loose, jazzy attitude which belies the group’s disconnection from the club and the more introspective nature of this heady excursion. All of these statements are true, yet merely dance around the compulsively head-nodding appeal of Desire Lines. This is an album to unwind to, whether out on the town or back at home. It’s something you’ll end up listening to alone most often, despite the instantly gratifying beats and approachable nature – any friend with a working set of ears would be thankful for an introduction – it’s just too engrossing a listen when surrendering full attention. One look at the cover art probably gave more of an impression than any of this paragraph, but if you have read this far, take my word that the visuals are certainly representative of the majestically dreamlike beauty captured by this album.
[submit to the sound at boomkat or cd universe – and be sure to show some love at the Meanderthals myspace]
Caural – Mirrors For Eyes
Caural is the artist name of Chicago native, multi-instrumentalist and producer extraordinaire Zachary Mastoon. This is his latest, and most fully fleshed out full length release.
Mirrors for Eyes is deeply saturated in hazy tones and heady, soulful beats. Spinning this is like dropping down a mental slide through treated drums, live guitar, organic synth lines; the slightly fragile production feels held together by the grooves of an ancient (but well preserved) vinyl from a connoisseur’s original Blue Note collection. Managing this fine balancing act is what makes the record so astounding: projecting a thoroughly modern and forward-leaning style while retaining the crackling edge of some classically forgotten gem – one recently unearthed from a hermetically sealed time capsule. Mixing fully instrumental and vocal tracks (some rapped, some sung) with a casual ease, this LP will eat 50 minutes and ask for more, stealthily working it’s way under the skin until the ghostly tones emerge in dreams and every paused, reflective moment throughout the day. The draw is narcotic and can relentlessly stick for weeks. Give it a spin; there’s no fear of addiction when the product’s this pure. For instant convincing, spin Re-Experience Any Moment You Choose and quickly find yourself hitting restart to get the whole picture.
[grab this at boomkat or cd universe, or the reliable standby amazon]
Air France
With only a handful of released tracks totalling over 30 minutes, Air France have become the favorite new artist many forward-thinking and fun loving music fans. Swathed in sun drenched woozy atmospheres and grounded with a fundamental understanding of beat centered propulsion, this enigmatic duo has managed to become both the hottest ticket from Gothenburg and the leading light in a balearic trance pop revival stretching around the globe. This is the pair of unfathomably striking EPs with which the group has garnered so much attention.
First we have No Way Down. Released in the summer of 2008 with little fanfare, it was luckily picked up on pitchfork‘s radar and received a glowing review, now echoed in hundreds of like minded gushing writeups. This is dangeously addictive electronic love-sound nirvana. Cutting through multilayered samples with the ease of Avalanches, they’ve also got an ear for pop hooks that would make other recent (and excellent) Swedish exports blush. There’s not a second wasted among the six equally brilliant tracks. Forced to pick a standout, Collapsing At Your Doorstep would fit the bill for it’s dreamlike sampled refrain, “sort of like a dream. no – better” flitting over weeping romantic strings and a beach party conga line of percussion. Truthfully, the entire record is required listening.
Speaking of beach parties, here is the first release, On Trade Winds, dropped in 2007. Beach Party is practically the group’s manifesto, the snowball which has since grown into an avalanche of attention. Too many people have listened to and loved the new EP yet remain ignorant of the burgeoning genius on display with these four tracks. Honestly, it should have gone first but recognition beats propriety. Flip these tunes on, line up the second record, and take the whole 36 minutes and 7 seconds in one hit. It’s as simple as that. Words, however eloquent, aren’t equipped to convey the blast of fresh air and heartpounding excitement this music evokes. Once it’s over you’re nearly guaranteed a repeat play. The only problem arises when the craving for more sets in. Hopefully Air France can keep the momentum and swing for the fences again with a new release in the near future. Is a full LP too much to ask?
[available separately as Swedish imports, and download-only from various outlets including klicktrack. Best option is the UK edition at Amazon which contains both EPs for the relatively low price of $17.49 us – an option I wish were available when I discovered them]
Dusty Kid – A Raver’s Diary
Here we have a truly mind warping, expansive, and impulsively danceable new album from Dusty Kid. It’s a headlong rush into ballsy beats and trance-inducing atmospheres seemingly forgotten since the heyday of Underworld or Chemical Brothers. There is a reason, after all, the album is titled A Raver’s Diary.
The record starts things off on a minimal tack, with the first song’s title broadly (but reductively) indicative of the forthcoming beats – Here Comes The Techno. The course is seemingly set for some ambient house, minimal techno, essentially Kompakt-esque left-of-the-dial approach. That notion is neatly sliced apart via Lynchesque, an off-kilter wobble of pulsing dub beats and stratospheric key tones. Tension and surprising depth are revealed as layers are peeled away, then rebuilt with pinpoint accuracy, paving the way toward the rest of the album’s skyward trajectory.
Soaring above cumulonimbus clouds on the quarter-hour behemoth America, the rocketship momentum blasts through affecting surges of echoed guitar tones and romantic organ swells, the distinct feeling of a heart growing four times it’s size. Feeling like a series of towering waves crashing against eardrums, every buildup and breakdown reveals richer textures and an evolving structure. The low-end grows deeper, organs are interrupted by staccato-pulse synths, strings and woodwind gusts wash over the dubby guitar line… and it all recedes into a gentle lull you may have seen coming for miles, but were hoping would happen anyway. It’s instantly rebuilt, vertically, with an intense picked guitar solo as the spine every element wraps seamlessly around. Anyone with a heartbeat would want to repeat the track at once; Dusty Kid never allows the opportunity to arise. Agaphes grabs the torch running full speed and jumps through multiple doorways, burning toward the terminal end of this habit-forming beat odyssey.
After that, it’s okay to hit Play again. In fact, it’s recommended. The perspective is essential for grasping the journey this album takes. He drops the listener straight into a party comprised of the tangible accumulated knowledge of travellers who journeyed to learn what partying meant. Which is to say.. nothing more, nothing less, than the thrill of the rhythm. Have fun.
[get your hands on this at boomkat or check out amazon – if so, make sure to utilize the customer review function to negate the ridiculous shipping-related score of 1 star (by a fellow who obviously doesn’t know what ‘review’ means)]
Optimistic Underground 