This track is pure 80’s fizzy pop majesty. I can never get enough of it. Ever.
And a little background information: Freur died only to be reborn, with members Rick Smith and Karl Hyde, as Underworld. Although the former band is nearly unrelated, musically, this song certainly displays their ability to craft an earbending single. Spin it!
Pharoah Sanders may be regarded as, without reservation, one of the greatest modern jazz musicians. His saxophone has graced the heights of recorded music, including his work with John Coltrane on the revolutionary freakout Ascension and Alice Coltrane‘s spiritual jazz masterpieces. He’s played with nearly every major jazz artist you love and he’s appeared on more records than you own. Probably.
Here for all to witness is the wonderfully fleshed out evolution of one of the premier bands of modern times, Disco Inferno. I’ve already shared their greatest album – DI Go Pop – so now it’s time to realize the full trajectory of this majestic yet mind-bogglingly ignored outfit from post-punk innovators to something altogether more advanced, alien, and never since equalled.
Between 1992 and 1994 this band singlehandedly expanded the concept of what rock music could be, influencing countless other forward-thinking artists while remaining shrouded from the public, and as it turns out, history’s gaze. The five EPs collected here represent some of the most staggering artistic growth a single group has ever achieved in a lifetime – and Disco Inferno accomplished this feat in only two years.
Summer’s Last Sound
A Rock To Cling To
The Last Dance
Second Language
It’s A Kid’s World
[normally this is where you’re pointed towards a purchase point. unfortunately none of these EPs have been reissued since their first release and are currently unavailable commercially. if you find used copies please bring it to my attention and that will be shared here. for now just enjoy the music.]
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.
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 & 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 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]
Optimistic Underground 