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Monday, February 24, 2025

Saz’iso - 2017 - At Least Wave Your Handkerchief At Me: The Joys and Sorrows of Southern Albanian Song

Glitterbeat ‎– 053 

“Why not give yourself a break from the unending cavalcade of modern high-speed insanity, and rest up with this album of deep soul from Southern Albania.”
– Ry Cooder

Brazilian Samba, Bosnian Sevdah, New Orleans Jazz, Cuban son – and Albanian Saze! The turn of the last century saw mass migrations to the world’s cities with rural people bringing their music with them, adapting their traditions to new circumstances and modern instruments. Of all these great musical forms, the mesmerizing arabesques, joyful dances and heart-breaking laments of Saze are among the least recorded, and they remain largely unknown outside Albania.

Glitterbeat is proud to announce the release of “At Least Wave Your Handkerchief At Me: The Joys and Sorrows of Southern Albanian Song” by Saz’iso, a group of virtuoso musicians and legendary singers assembled by veteran producer Joe Boyd (Pink Floyd, Nick Drake, Cubanismo, Songhai) and his co-producers, Edit Pula and Andrea Goertler, and recorded by Grammy-winning engineer Jerry Boys (Buena Vista Social Club, Ali Farka Touré, Orchestra Baobab).

“I had long been intrigued by Albanian music. In 1988, I saw a smuggled video of that year’s Gjirokastër Folklore Festival, but good recordings were hard to find. When I finally went in 2014, I was captivated by the country and its mesmerizing music; the germ of a plan to make a record took hold.”
– Joe Boyd

The key that opened the Albanian door for Joe Boyd was a collaboration between ethnomusicologist/music producer Lucy Durán and Albanian artist Edit Pula in 2011 for a three-part series of broadcasts on Albanian music for BBC Radio 3’s “World Routes” (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b016kdcj). In 2014, Joe joined Lucy, his old friend and collaborator, for a celebration in Albania. There he met Edit Pula and her friend Andrea Goertler, both passionate advocates of traditional music, and the idea for a recording project was born. Dream was transformed into reality by a Kickstarter campaign supported by friends and strangers, musicians and fans from around the world. The producers then assembled a group of star musicians, many of whom had been part of the World Routes recording.

“The best moment in my remarkable musical journey to Albania in 2011 for the BBC was my encounter with Saze. The gorgeous voice of Donika, so expressive, full of pathos and joy, moved me to tears instantly. Listening to this album takes me right back to the beautiful wild landscape of southern Albania and evokes its turbulent history.”
– Lucy Durán

Singers Donika Pecallari and Adrianna Thanou are from Përmet, one of the cradles of Saze. They were discovered as teenagers and both performed with Saze clarinet legend Laver Bariu, becoming stars at festivals and in competitions. Donika has an agile and powerful voice while Adrianna’s is warm with subtle tones. Both left Albania during the turbulent 90’s following the fall of the Communist government and found work and a new life in Athens. Donika was fiercely determined to stay connected to her home country’s music scene, even hiking over mountain trails, carrying her young child, to take part in festivals while avoiding Greek border controls. For almost two decades, Adrianna did not sing at all, but has, in recent years, begun performing again for the diaspora community in Greece.

The differing timbres of their voices create thrilling harmonies as each in turn provides a second ‘cutter’ voice to the other’s lead ‘taker’. On other songs, the second voice is provided by Robert Tralo, another wonderful Përmet singer, who appeared with Adrianna in a legendary performance at the 1983 National Folklore Festival in Gjirokastër. Taking advantage of the new freedoms after the end of communism, Robert turned his back on a music career to follow his calling to become an Orthodox priest. He now looks after a number of village churches in the region, while allowing himself the occasional performance with a saze ensemble – but only when outside the boundaries of his parish.

The music of Southern Albania is iso-polyphonic, which means that it combines at least two melodic vocal lines, a lead (marrës – the ‘taker’) and a second (prerës – the ‘cutter’) with a multi-voiced drone or iso. When manufactured ‘tempered’ instruments arrived in the region in the late 19th century, singing, which had previously been performed a cappella, began being accompanied. This was the moment when saze ensembles were born; clarinets and violins took on the roles of the lead and second voices while lutes carried the iso. The sazes took Southern towns and cities by storm, performing at weddings, funerals and celebrations of all kinds, and still do to this day. As Vasil S. Tole, Albania’s leading expert on iso-polyphony – and an inspiring advisor to this project – puts it: “Saze remains to this day the musical language of the cities of Southern Albania, where East and West embraced when European instruments collided with the magic of a cappella iso-polyphony, and where life and death still coexist in a sound that is truly unique.”

Saz’iso’s instrumentalists are from the other great city of Saze: Korçë. Violinist Aurel Qirjo graduated as a conductor from the High Institute of Arts in Tirana and, despite having lived abroad for many years, he remains one of the most distinguished violinists of Southern Albania, where he returns frequently to perform. Aurel now lives in London, recording and performing as a member of the Greek group Kourelou as well as playing in Turkish and Albanian ensembles. Clarinettist Telando Feto has remained in Korçë, where he teaches music in a school. He is famous for the tone and musicality of his playing, which is in high demand by Albanian popular artists. Llautë (lute) master and instrument maker Agron Murat and dajre (frame drum) artist Agron Nasi are veteran performers, who were part of Korçë’s legendary Lulushi saze and have toured abroad widely with Albanian groups. Pëllumb Meta is a Tirana-based multi-instrumentalist and member of the Tirana Ensemble; a virtuoso on all manner of flutes and pipes with an extraordinarily wide repertoire of songs and tunes from all Albanian regions.

The songs on this album tell of joy and sorrow, love and loss, heroism and tragedy. “Tana” is an ancient song about a shepherd whose flock is stolen by bandits that grant his wish to play his flute for the last time before they kill him. The plaintive melody conveys his terrible fate to his beloved in the valley below. A line from the beautiful “Penxherenë e zotrisë sate” gives the album its title; a boy yearns for the girl next door, pleading, “You keep going in and out of your gate. O poor me, outside! At least wave your handkerchief at me.” Other songs are about partisans struggling against foreign invaders and men forced to depart in search of work, leaving behind grieving wives and families, a recurring theme in Albanian music to the present day.

The instrumental dances have deep roots in the region’s history. “Valle e Osman Takës” originated with a captured rebel leader dancing his way to freedom and is now a spectacular male dance that constitutes a test that only the most skilled attempt. The delicate “Valle Postenançe”, on the other hand, is a widely popular women’s dance.

Of all the region’s instrumental forms none has the resonance and emotive power of kaba. According to legend, the form originated when a dying wife told her husband not to cry, but to let his clarinet weep over her coffin instead. The album includes both, a clarinet and a violin kaba as well as a rare, freely improvised avaz. The melancholic improvisational lines of the clarinet or violin give it a mood often referred to as the ‘Albanian blues’. Kaba’s “melodies, ornamented with swoops, glides and growls of an almost vocal quality, sound both fresh and ancient at the same time”, observes author and musician Kim Burton, “and exemplify the combination of passion with restraint that is the hallmark of Albanian culture.”

“This recording is a landmark in the history of Saze music. These performers are following in the footsteps of the great masters that have preceded them, while the careful and thorough production and wonderful sound quality allow us to experience recorded Saze as never before.”
– Vasil S. Tole

“We set out to record these virtuoso singers and musicians like a Blue Note jazz session or a Deutsche Grammophon string quartet. Saze is, after all, a classical form, its essential elements unaltered over the decades. With its ancient roots, the intensity of this world-class music has the power to entrance any listener.”
– Joe Boyd

“At Least Wave Your Handkerchief At Me” was recorded in the last three days of October 2016 at the Marubi Film Academy in Tirana. Joe Boyd’s long-time colleague and friend, the Grammy-winning engineer Jerry Boys, converted the school’s screening room into a warm, bright studio. Everything was done live, with no overdubs.

“Recording Saz’iso was a wonderful experience, especially as the musicians were so obviously thrilled to be part of the project. They are all brilliant performers and we rarely needed more than two takes to get a master.”
– Jerry Boys

VA - 2015 - Rough Guide to Psychedelic India CD

 Music Rough Guides ‎– 1332

Indian music was hugely influential on Western psychedelia and the feeling was mutual. On this mind-expanding Rough Guide, hallucinatory sounds drift in and out of drones and ragas, ranging from the lysergic sitar of Ananda Shankar and trippy Bollywood vibes of the 1970s to more recent concoctions by Sunday Driver and The Bombay Royale.

Track Listing
----------------
[01/12] Dance Music (Instrumental) (Kalyanji) (2:10) 320 kbps 5.09 MB
[02/12] Dancing Drums (Ananda Shankar) (5:22) 320 kbps 12.43 MB
[03/12] Satyam Shivam Sundaram (Sunday Driver) (6:52) 320 kbps 15.86 MB
[04/12] Bombay Twist (The Bombay Royale) (3:02) 320 kbps 7.07 MB
[05/12] Rakshasa (Simon Thacker's Svara-Kanti) (6:33) 320 kbps 15.14 MB
[06/12] Brishtir Pani (Tiger Blossom) (2:24) 320 kbps 5.65 MB
[07/12] Dum Maro Dum (Asha Bhosle) (3:38) 320 kbps 8.47 MB
[08/12] Kaliya (Paban Das Baul) (3:12) 320 kbps 7.48 MB
[09/12] Chamber of Dreams (Jazz Thali) (4:59) 320 kbps 11.54 MB
[10/12] Thillana (Jyotsna srikanth) (4:27) 320 kbps 10.32 MB
[11/12] Moksha (Ray Spiegel Ensemble) (8:36) 320 kbps 19.82 MB
[12/12] A Mystical Morning (John McLaughlin) (16:03) 320 kbps 36.87 MB

Total number of files: 12
Total size of files: 155.78 MB
Total playing time: 67:18

VA - 2011 - Rangarang (Pre-revolutionary Iranian Pop) 2xCD



  Vampi Soul ‎– 138


It may seem hard to believe now, with the Islamic Republic of Iran swathed in controversial breaches of human rights and nonsensical nuclear issues, but a little over 30 years ago it was all glitz and glamour, rock and roll. The shah of Iran promoted modernization to the detriment of Persian culture and most Iranians loathed the stoic king by the end of his reign. Centuries of monarchist rule gave way to a staunch Islamist regime during the populist Iranian Revolution of 1979.

The new Iranian government sought to eradicate any remnants of the imperialist monarchy and 'having fun' was banned entirely. Music's controversial status within Islam meant that the Persian pop industry was incongruous with Iran's new and heavy-handed rulers. All of Iran's record labels were forcibly shut down, the entire broadcasting industry was Islamicized, and a fearful population burned their records, buried their books and complied, at least on the surface, with the Islamic regime's new (and very boring) rules and regulations."Rangarang" is a compilation of forgotten jewels from pre-revolutionary Iran.

These songs tell the stories of an artisan community that flourished during the 1960s and 1970s before vanishing into oblivion. The pop stars who stayed in Iran were summonsed to the revolutionary court and forced to sign a declaration promising to abandon their careers and never perform again. By the time an exilic music industry had been established in Los Angeles, where many musicians settled after fleeing the chaotic disarray of post-revolutionary war-torn Iran, the beats and melodies of the monarchist era had given way to the synthesizers of the 1980s and Iranian pop music would never be the same again.The range of the tracks included on "Rangarang" is astonishing, from funky workouts and soulful pop to jazzy grooves and yearning ballads, all wonderfully and imaginatively produced and arranged, giving shape to truly popular music.

Neutral Milk Hotel - (2011) NMH Vinyl Box Set

NMH Records ‎– 001 

If you were around when Neutral Milk Hotel were a working band, it would have been difficult to predict the stature they'd later acquire in the independent rock sphere. That they were great, and special, was clear to a lot of people following indie rock, but they didn't necessarily seem like the kind of group that would develop into something amounting to a "legend." For one thing, they were visible during the mid and late 1990s, doing exactly the same kinds of things other indie rock bands were doing. They were on Merge, putting out albums, EPs, and singles, touring the same venues as young bands like Modest Mouse and Helium. They weren't under-appreciated and were by no means obscure; and the fact that they were part of a "scene" that made for such great copy-- the Elephant 6 Recording Company-- meant they got their share of attention in the indie music press.

But then they went away. Jeff Mangum, the project's creative force, stopped releasing new music and quit playing shows. Yet unlike the followers of many bands from that time who moved on, his fans didn't trickle away. Instead, in place of a working band with a growing catalog, Neutral Milk Hotel became an absent band with a growing cult. People were rediscovering this music, and the median age of the Neutral Milk Hotel obsessive has continued to hover in the early twenties. Since Mangum's return to performing, first as part of the Elephant 6 reunion in 2008 and then with a slate of shows last year, Neutral Milk Hotel started to seem like something that existed in the present tense again. Possibly serving as a sort of tribute to this moment, Mangum has released this limited vinyl-only box set, which collects almost all of the material released under the Neutral Milk Hotel name and adds 15 additional rare and unreleased tracks.

I've met people who adore In the Aeroplane Over the Sea and didn't know that Neutral Milk Hotel had ever released anything else, so it's temping to view everything Mangum released with an eye to the part it played in the Aeroplane story. And while it's a settled matter that Aereoplane is the high-water mark for the band (as well as being one of the best indie rock records of the last two decades), I can tell you that at the time there were plenty of people who felt that its predecessor, 1996's On Avery Island, was nearly its equal. Certainly, Avery has a comparatively muffled sound and doesn't always seem to understand how to best showcase Mangum's gifts (his voice is often double-tracked and lower in the mix and hence less distinctive), but on a song-by-song basis it has almost as many great moments. The opening "Song Against Sex" is one of them, a fuzz rocker with a hypnotically catchy and repetitive melody and lyrics that hint at the awkwardness and alienation that draws people toward Mangum's work. NMH's world is a place where sex is fumbling, a reliably imperfect expression of an emotion that dreamers want to see perfected. And in "Song Against Sex", drugs and porn and staged representations of lust are so repellent that the narrator wants to leave the world altogether. It's the kind of sentiment that teenagers who feel assaulted by their surroundings will continue to discover, and its wide-eyed and wounded view of the world goes a long way toward explaining why they keep returning to this songwriter.

Despite its vague and decidedly lo-fi profile, Avery also has its share of experimentation, and it's well integrated into the songs themselves. The album was produced by Robert Schneider of Apples in Stereo, whose house-producer role in the E6 sphere you might compare to Conny Plank's in the German experimental rock underground. I believe that's Schneider's voice talking excitedly as "Song Against Sex" opens, encouraging Mangum and describing his performance as "perfect," and Mangum has spoken repeatedly about how important his enthusiasm and belief was to the NMH project. The way Schneider and Mangum structured Avery, it feels like a suite, tunes bunched together with interludes and repeating motifs and details that fade away and then return a few songs later. The lurching "Marching Theme" may not have the memorable arrangement of the following record's instrumental "The Fool", but the surging fuzz guitar and odd, snaking keyboard melody form a superb bridge between the acoustic "Baby for Pree" and the electric variation on the same gorgeous melody that follows, "Where You'll Find Me Now". The simple horn and organ duet "Avery Island/April 1st" connects that to the comparatively fierce "Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone", and "Naomi" is another key Mangum track, not least for its strangely wandering melody. The closing "Pree-Sisters Swallowing a Donkey's Eye", 13 minutes on CD but 10 minutes shorter on vinyl, is a throbbing drone piece that sometimes touches on noise music, putting it in league with similar experiments by NMH's sister band, Olivia Tremor Control.

If Avery could reasonably be compared to other music going on in the Elephant 6 sphere in the mid and late 1990s, Aeroplane is where Mangum created something with no easy reference points. Mixing Salvation Army band pomp, hushed folk, roaring power pop, and almost unbearably intense guitar and voice songs that are difficult to classify, Aeroplane still feels like one of a kind, 14 years and countless inspired bands later. It's never not been a part of the conversation in indie rock since it was reissued in 2005, and suffice to say that it has lost none of its power. It's always been mastered loud and with a mix that puts Mangum's voice right in your face, and the remaster here is just a hair softer and rounder but otherwise wisely does little to alter its forceful sonic character. Aeroplane is the sound of an artist fully in tune with his creativity putting himself out there with an almost painful sense of vulnerability, and the reverberations from that statement are still being felt after a decade and a half. I wrote at length about the record when it was reissued in 2005 and don't have much to add here, except that the packaging and sound of this reissue are first rate. As an addendum, the gorgeous picture disc/poster sleeve 7" of "Holland 1945", backed by a live version of "Engine", first released in 1998, is nice to have in circulation.

Beyond the two proper albums, the box offers a mix of revelations and welcome artifacts. Early song "Everything Is" has been been released in various configurations over the years, as both a two-song 7" and as a proper EP, and it's included here in expanded EP form as a 10". Originally released in 1994, it finds Mangum in a much different place in terms of both songwriting and performance. This is where he felt most Elephant 6, enamored with the pop of the 1960s and doing his best to sing sweetly, in a higher and smoother register, to make his voice palatable. The title track and "Tuesday Moon" (once identified on a comp as "Love You on a Tuesday") are basically solid, down-the-middle guitar pop songs recorded crudely but with a hint of the spark that would lead to so much more. "Ruby Bulbs", the first song Mangum ever officially released, is raw and noisy and shouty and reflects Mangum's interest in aggro punk, an influence that didn't otherwise surface on his records. All in all, the Everything Is EP feels gestational and enjoyable but ultimately unexceptional; had things ended here, Neutral Milk Hotel might be as well remembered as E6 compatriots the Gerbils.

The Ferris Wheel on Fire 10" EP, on the other hand, is the real treasure of the set. Hearing Mangum in acoustic mode (there are seven demos here and a recording from an in-store), it's striking how much these recordings from 1992 to 1996 sound so much more like his later style compared to what was issued on Everything Is. "Oh Sister", from 1995 perfectly captures that moment of the growing boldness of his songwriting; the strums and vocals seem very "Two Headed Boy", and it has some melodic and lyrical motifs from that song. "My Dream Girl Don't Exist", possibly the most well-known unreleased Mangum song, feels like a dry run for Aeroplane, with strummed chords reminiscent of "The King of Carrot Flowers", lyrics about a dead girl in the ground, and a closing "now she knows she'll never be afraid" that was later used on "Ghost". The studio version of "Engine" is quite close to the version released on the B-side of the "Holland 1945" single, and other songs ("A Baby for Pree/Glow Into You", "April 8th") found their way to On Avery Island. Hearing acoustic songs and demos from the early days of Neutral Milk Hotel and marveling at how fully realized they sound, Ferris Wheel on Fire reminds me most of Time of No Reply, the posthumous collection of Nick Drake rarities and outtakes that evokes the sound of Pink Moon more than either of his two other properly released records. It's certainly a fans-only collection, but it also stands well on its own, with a unified sound and mood.

One 7" included on the record serves more as an extension of Ferris Wheel, with versions of songs released elsewhere. "You've Passed" and "Where You'll Find Me Now" both made it onto Avery. The first is not terribly different, it sounds like the basic arrangement and sound had been determined, but the fuzz guitar has more roar in the riff. The second is a welcome change-up: much slower, more downcast, less desperate, less naked. The other 7" has two versions of "Little Birds"-- one recorded at home, one with Robert Schneider-- which happens to be the one song here that was written after the release of Aeroplane. It's a harrowing composition that is dedicated to Matthew Shepard, who was murdered two months before the song was composed in December 1998, and its lyrics, "Another boy in town at night he took him for his lover/ And deep in sin they held each other/ So I took a hammer and nearly beat his little brains in/ Knowing God in heaven could have, never could forgive him," seem to reference the incident.

It's clear in spending time with this set and listening to it in varying sequences that Mangum the songwriter liked to tinker. On this evidence he was not prolific, but he also didn't waste ideas. Parts of songs pop up in other tracks, variations get turned into extended sequences, songs are divided into parts. The seven-or-so-year songwriting arc represented here yielded only about two-dozen completely distinct songs, and a clutch more that are variations on some of those themes.

An overlooked element of Neutral Milk Hotel's enduring appeal is that Mangum stopped making new music at the precise moment that music was about to become "an internet thing." A year after Aeroplane came Napster, and pretty soon the way we hear and experience music would never be the same. But Neutral Milk Hotel remain, as if preserved in amber, in that moment when independent music was bought in stores and spread by word of mouth that came from actual mouths. A moment when people had to hold something physical in their hands to be able to experience the music, whether tape, vinyl, or CD. And it's fitting that this box set has been assembled with care and high-quality materials that seem bound to last well into the time when the next generation discovers this music. "There are some lives you live and some you leave behind," Mangum sings in "Leave Me Alone", and it's such a perfect line for this guy. He left the music-making life behind for years, and now, maybe, he's inching back toward it. Even if he never gets there, whether by choice or because forces of whatever kind conspire against him, there's the music contained here, rich and beautiful enough to fill a career.

Tenniscoats - (2015) Music Exists Disc 1

Majikick Records ‎– 038 

Tenniscoats (テニスコーツ) is a group from from Tokyo, Japan featuring Saya and Takashi Ueno, often helped by other musicians and non-musicians. They, in turn, have performed in, or collaborated with a large number of underground bands and musicians like Maher Shalal Hash Baz (with Tori and Reiko Kudo), Cacoy (with DJ Klock of Clockwise Records), Puka Puka Brians and other artists on Tenniscoats very own Majikick label.
Both Saya and Ueno also perform and release solo works. Their record label's name 'Majikick' is a combination of the Japanese word for 'serious' and the English word 'kick'. The name 'Tenniscoats' comes from the way 'Tennis courts' sounds when rendered in Japanese.
In Tenniscoats, Saya sings beautiful original melodies in a delicate falsetto and mainly plays keyboards, piano, and synths. Ueno accompanies mostly with guitar, saxophone, and occasional vocals. A lot of other instruments are also used to create their fragile pop and experimental songs.

Marvin Pontiac - 2017 - The Asylum Tapes

 Strange & Beautiful Music ‎– none 

Maher Shalal Hash Baz - 1996 - Return Visit To Rock Mass 3xCD

Org Records ‎– 008

In contrast to Kind Of Blue, this is this incredibly short, focussed Maher Shalal Hash Baz record [it’s an 86-track compilation box set]. The band is the work of Tori Kudo who somehow managed to persuade his friend Shinji Shibayama to release on his label, Org, on the condition that Tori would only agree to the record if Shibayama would release every single song that Tori had at the time. Tori comes up with a song a day – or more – so the project could have almost never finished. I think Shibayama must have called it off at some point or various musicians stopped coming to sessions.

It starts out with a really beautiful song called ‘Unknown Happiness’ that is probably one of their most recognisable songs. It has a really beautiful melody, weird instrumentation with a euphonium and a surf guitar style. There is a mixture of really fantastic musicians and absolute beginners and that’s what Tori likes – he wants a rough edge to what he does.

Tori is a really incredible pianist – a child prodigy who could play really complicated classical pieces from the age of five – and absolutely knows music inside out. He has no interest in playing with people who are as good as he is. He is looking for an amateur spirit and is a self-declared ‘king of error’. He started out in Japan making quite punky records and then did some no wave-type stuff, with his wife Reiko who would wail over the music, and then eventually formed Maher Shalal Hash Baz, which was this strange instrumental mix of euphonium as the main instrument – sometimes with a really good drummer of at other times with a beginner on drums. Tori was almost always on guitar and doing vocals.

When I heard their music, it was my friend David Keenan who discovered them for The Wire. Katrina and I were visiting David in London together and David said that he had found this group that he thought we would absolutely love. When Katrina and I heard it we were floored from the first notes of ‘Unknown Happiness’. It had all these elements that I love in music – great melody, a certain roughness, joy and sadness, intensity and a quiet power. It had vision.

Tori and Reiko were living in London at the time and after David did his piece and it was published in The Wire, they left a note in the Rough Trade shop for David as they had heard he also lived in London. They wanted to meet him and thank him for the review. David was moving back to Glasgow around that time so we decided to do a Maher Shalal Hash Baz concert. We put them on and it was about then that Domino had been saying that if we ever wanted to do our own label that they would support us and give us money to do it. So, we went in and said to [Domino founder] Laurence [Bell] that Maher Shalal Hash Baz was what we wanted to do and that our label would be based around them. He thought it was a bit wild, but his favourite group is something like Royal Trux, so even though he has released all these big records he loves wilder stuff and was up for doing it. So, the first release on Geographic was a Maher retrospective and we subsequently made a new Maher record in Scotland called Blues De Jour. They embody everything I love in music and I will absolutely love this group until the day I die.

Maher Shalal Hash Baz - 2000 - From A Summer To Another Summer (An Egypt To Another Egypt)

 Geographic ‎– 001

Maher Shalal Hash Baz are incredible; the self proclaimed 'kings of error', their music is unselfconciously skewed and triumphantly melodic. This lovingly compiled retrospective traces their roots from the early 80s Japanese underground through to their historic Glasgow show in 1999. MSHB make you feel like you're hearing music for the first time.

Lola V. Stain - 1992 - Mansarda / Ikona CD

Blind Dog Records ‎– 002 

Lola V. Stain was the band from Skopje, Macedonia, YUGOSLAVIA, formed in 1987 by musician Zlatko Oridjanski . The name of this band has been taken after one of the Margaret Dirass’s novel. The music of Lola V. Stain could be described as electroacoustic ambient music with mixture of traditional macedonian ethno music played by various guest musicians. They’ve released two antology albums Ikona (1990) and Mansarda (1992) on Croatian label Blind Dog Records. Zlatko Oridjanski shortly joined group Anastasia and reached worldwide success with their soundtrack for the Oscar nominated movie „Before the Rain“

Laurence Vanay - 1974 - Galaxies LP

SFP ‎– 024

Laurence Vanay is the pseudonym for Jacqueline Thibault, wife of music producer and musician Laurent Thibault (ex-MAGMA). Here is her debut album entitled "Galaxies", a very rare item indeed and a Holy Grail for most collectors of 70ies underground French progressive
*Galaxies* opens in a progressive instrumental mood, a style elegantly dominating the entire record. The powerful swirling organ, with a sound that owes to early CATHARSIS, sets an atmosphere of acid hallucinatory mellowness which prevails throughout the whole recording. The sublime folk twists add an aura of quiet and restrained melancholy, soft and seductive yet in perfect emulation with the dreamy flute play. Refined sonorities are interwoven with troubled twists of anguish, to faint in an aetherial vaporous climate reminding delicate second Cressida or early Gracious. An album of inconspicuous, sincere beauty and a masterwork of the french progressive folk scene.

Kurt Vile - 2013 - Wakin On A Pretty Daze CD

Matador ‎– 998

Kurt Vile is slowly, quietly becoming one of the great American guitarists and songwriters, of our time. This 69-minute double album is comprised of sweeping, expansive songs that are both very intimate and conversational. Wakin On A Pretty Daze is a timeless record that would have sounded great 30 years ago, sounds great today, and will still sound great in another 30 years’ from now.
Beautifully produced by John Agnello, the record is filled with hazy, swooning guitar lines and dreamy, beatific, and occasionally sardonic vocals. It is summed up by the staggeringly gorgeous 9-minute opener, Wakin On A Pretty Day. The song is also the first video, directed by Jonathan Demme in the spirit of his landmark Springsteen video “Streets OfPhiladelphia.”

The record has other connections to Kurt’s home town. Steve Powers (ESPO), the renowned Philly street artist, painted the cover mural on an abandoned building near the Northern Liberties. The album is being announced via a mini-doc of Powers creating the mural with Kurt’s commentary, and the two of them talking about Philadelphian music and visual arts. The mural will be re-created in London, Los Angeles and New York.

Kelompok Kampungan - 1980 - Mencari Tuhan


 Strawberry Rain ‎– 007
 One of the true gems of the Indonesian scene, this album stands to be one of the best, and also one of the most unique albums to come from the region. Banned by the Shuko government soon after release, it remains somewhat obscure to most collectors up until now. An album created by Bram Makahekum (who had no musical experience or training at all) Kelompok Kumpangan had multiple members by trying to recreate the sounds of nature, even using original handmade instruments invented by the band themselves. The end result is nothing short of brilliant, one of our personal favourites from the region. There isn’t much to compare this to, maybe the Indonesian equivalent of a Paebiru or Genesis from Columbia at times, but it’s very unique and stands on its own. Wonderful progressive folk of the highest caliber interweaving flutes, violins, acoustic guitars, Indonesian percussion and other instrumentation. We can’t stand behind this one enough, it’s truly brilliant. 700 copies housed in paste on covers, includes insert with photos and history written by Indonesian music journalist Denny Sakrie. One time limited edition, CD limited to 1000 copies and has 4 songs not on the LP version that were never released on vinyl before

John Fahey - 2011 - Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You (The Fonotone Years 1958-1965) 5xCD

 Dust-to-Digital ‎– 021

As with all histories, context and an appreciation for the times are essential. In 1958, when the earliest of these recordings were made there were probably no more than a handful of reissues of pre-war country blues 78s available on record in the United States. The long-playing 33 1/3 record was, itself, only a recent invention. Today, with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of pre-war blues and hillbilly reissues available and in print, when it’s possible to walk into any halfway decent record store (to the extent record stores, halfway decent or otherwise, still exist) and find the complete recordings of Charley Patton or Blind Willie Johnson, it may be difficult to comprehend just how obscure and how otherworldly this music once was. — Glenn Jones, from the Introduction to Your Past Comes Back to Haunt You

Inca Ore with Lemon Bear's Orchestra - 2006 - The Birds in the Bushes CD

5 Rue Christine ‎– 072

Rock critics, present company included, throw around the term "primitive" too
much. We use it to describe instrumentally underdeveloped but effective music.
In my mind, the word "primitive" alludes to pre-homosapien humanoids. When
describing an artist, the word, then, describes a caveman-like tribe
semi-rhythmically smashing rocks together in some type of ceremony around a
fire. From all the critical mythos surrounding The Godz, the first time I heard
them, I expected them to be a bunch of Cro-Magnon men communicating in grunts
with a guitar being played like it dropped out of the sky from a portal to the
future. It'd take someone pretty unpretentious and wacky to make something I
could simply grace with the "primitive" label.

Inca Ore is a wacky lady. She has an affinity for shouting Dadist,
free-association poetry and clanging pots and pans. Occasionally, she imitates
animals and blows a slide whistle. Her backing band, Lemon Bears Orchestra,
creates banging and scraping sounds and sometimes adds to Ore's animal battle
cries. Occasionally, there is a reverb-ridden flute line thrown into the mix to
remind us it is the 21st century. The whole thing is an organic chaos with a
very urban tint.

The majority of the songs on the album revolve around loose, almost calamitous
percussion and Ore's spoken-in-tongues vocal chanting. Ore's nonsensical
blathering echoes the language-approximation methods of the Sun City Girls but,
unlike the Girls, Ore never seems like she is attempting to be coherent. Even
when she is shouting in English, her sentences seem disembodied from any
meaning. Her voice evokes a child's wide vocal range — from the ethereality of
playground chants to the anger of a hissy fit.

One such hissy fit provides the album's best moment. The horrific "Glossolalia
the Gift of the Tongue" finds Ore shouting like Punky Brewster as her backing
band rips a piano's chords and provides clinking sword percussion and a bizarre
low moan. A venomous mix of insanity and disorientation occurs.

A lost-in-the-woods motif runs through a lot of Ore's compositions. The group
emits animal chants and vocal imitations of natural sounds to a backdrop of odd
percussive timing or perhaps weird piano clanging. Even when the group employs a
limited use of dissonant fuzz, as they do on the expansive mindfuck "Cape Meares,"
it seems organic. Of course, the lost-in-the-woods motif leads to an inevitable
fluting and guitar strumming on "Blue Train," but Ore and the Bears never fall
prey to the nostalgia hang ups many of their peers demonstrate. Instead, the
band floats the flute sounds in an eerie manor and uses a guitar to imitate a
slow moving train, highlighting dual vocal melody that sounds like the Manson
family reinterpreting the Velvet Underground's "Murder Mystery."

A sexual gloss adds flavor to the calamity. One of the male members of Lemon
Bears Orchestra provides a rhythmic thrusting voice for the percussion on "Lucky
One." Ore works her way into orgasmic swing, slowly building a chant along to
the point of a scream filled with ecstasy and violence. It's one of the first
times I've heard bare animalistic sexuality replicated perfectly in sound art
form.

The Birds in the Bushes is a step away from the doldrums of the whole
freak folk, new weird jive, but it is not an album that will appeal to a broad
audience. To the unwilling/untrained ear, the album sounds like a cataclysmic
mess of clanging and screaming. In his two and a half sentence review of Inca
Ore's album for Rock-A-Rolla, Bobby Bone wrote: "The result is an
unlistenable and irritating mess of clatter, hissing and chanting. Absolute
nonsense." Some people just aren't evolved enough to appreciate the primitive.

Saturday, February 22, 2025

VA - 2008 - Music for Museums 2xCD

 


Kwanyin Records – kwanyin 028  415.61MB FLAC

VA - 2009 - Send + Receive: 10 Years Of Sound - 1998-2008

 

Send + Receive Editions – none  2.98GB FLAC

VA - 1999 - Harmony Of The Spheres 2xCD

Drunken Fish Records – DFR-50  692.25MB FLAC



A reissue is often described as though it were a transparent container: the same music returned to availability in another format. Harmony of the Spheres demonstrates why that description is inadequate. The 1999 double CD contains the same six major works issued in Drunken Fish’s 1996 triple-LP box, but it does not produce the same experience. The original demanded six separate encounters, one artist occupying each vinyl side. The listener lowered the needle, entered a world, reached the runout groove, stood up, turned the record or replaced it, and consciously crossed into another orbit. The double CD removes most of those physical borders. Three sides become one disc, three more become another. What had been six planets now forms two long hemispheres of sound.
This distinction matters because listening architecture changes musical meaning. On vinyl, Bardo Pond’s “Sangh Seriatim” was a complete side and therefore a complete territory. The silence and manual action after it reinforced the sensation that its procession had reached the boundary of its world. On the 1999 CD, the piece ends and Flying Saucer Attack’s “Since When” begins without the listener leaving the chair. Bardo Pond’s saturated bodily mass does not disappear into the ritual of flipping a record. It remains suspended in short-term memory while Flying Saucer Attack begin dissolving matter into hiss, distance and overloaded signal. The transition becomes compositional even though the artists did not collaborate.
That new continuity is the real subject of the CD edition. Disc one joins Bardo Pond, Flying Saucer Attack and Jessamine into a nearly seventy-minute passage from body to atmosphere to mechanism. Disc two moves from Roy Montgomery’s multiplied guitar devotion through Loren Mazzacane Connors’ fractured revolt and into the exposed mortal ritual of Charalambides. The original sides remain intact, but their borders have become permeable. Each work begins altering the interpretation of the one before it.
The reissue’s catalog number deepens this numerical strangeness. The original was DFR-25; the CD is DFR-50. Drunken Fish’s catalog had doubled between editions, and the release that once occupied one numbered position reappeared at its mathematical multiple. This may be accidental, but Harmony of the Spheres is exactly the kind of object that makes accidental ratios feel meaningful. Its ancient philosophical source imagines number, interval and cosmic movement as aspects of one concealed order. Here the music travels from twenty-five to fifty, from three records to two discs, from six sides to two sequences, while retaining the same underlying duration. The body changes; the proportion survives.
The compact disc also makes the title literal in a way the vinyl edition could not. The old idea of celestial harmony was founded upon number: orbital relationships translated into imagined musical proportion. A CD stores sound numerically, sampling a continuous vibration and reconstructing it through a precisely timed digital system. Music that repeatedly seems organic, cosmic, handmade and physically unstable is now carried by calculation. Bardo Pond’s distortion, Flying Saucer Attack’s tape fog, Connors’ torn guitar and Christina Carter’s voice all become encoded information. The ancient dream that number might conceal music meets a modern device that actually rebuilds audible music from numbers.
Yet the CD does not sound spiritually cleaner because it is digital. These recordings are full of material resistance. Amplifiers overload. Tape and distortion obscure sources. Fingers strike, bow and scrape strings. Voices disappear into surrounding frequencies. The apparent purity of digital storage preserves music devoted to impurity. That contradiction prevents the set from becoming a demonstration of technological progress. The CD can reproduce the sounds reliably, but it cannot tame what those sounds are doing.
The front image appears almost to acknowledge this conflict. A rectangular engraving floats inside an enormous black field. Human figures, instruments, circular diagrams, celestial forms and a monstrous open mouth have been packed into one unstable vertical scene. It resembles an illustration from a book whose religious, scientific and theatrical systems have become entangled. The circles may be planets, drums, targets, speakers or diagrams of vibration. The musicians appear to summon order while the mouth below threatens to swallow the entire arrangement.
On the twelve-inch box, that image participated in a large tactile environment with screened surfaces, a substantial booklet and vellum divisions. Reduced to CD dimensions, it becomes less like an altar and more like a secret manuscript. The black border grows psychologically larger because the central image has become physically smaller. The listener must lean toward it. Monumentality becomes intimacy.
The back cover provides the reissue’s clearest visual theory. Artist names and track titles sit above a nearly invisible system of orbital rings. The circles do not illustrate one central hierarchy in which a star performer occupies the middle and lesser artists revolve outside. They overlap and extend beyond the frame. The diagram implies that each body may be the center of another system not fully visible here. A compilation can only capture the portion of each artist’s orbit passing through this temporary field.
This is especially appropriate because the six artists were never members of one unified scene. Bardo Pond came from Philadelphia’s heavy psychedelic underground. Flying Saucer Attack developed its rural, home-recorded signal world in Bristol. Jessamine emerged from the Pacific Northwest. Roy Montgomery carried New Zealand post-punk, folk, drone and solitary guitar practice into a radically personal language. Loren Connors had spent years reducing blues and improvisation to spectral gestures. Charalambides transformed folk intimacy, silence and free exploration from Texas outward. Drunken Fish did not document a local movement. The label recognized gravitational resemblance across distance.
The original box made that recognition visible before history had fully confirmed it. By 1999, only three years had passed, but three years moved quickly within the independent music networks of that decade. The artists’ catalogs had expanded. Listeners had begun connecting psychedelic rock, drone, private folk, home recording, post-rock, improvisation and minimal guitar music in ways that would become increasingly familiar during the following decade. What appeared in 1996 as an unusually intuitive gathering could already be heard in 1999 as a map whose routes were continuing beyond the box. Later criticism would describe the collection as a landmark and unusually prescient, but the CD arrived while that prescience was still becoming visible. :contentReference[oaicite:2]{index=2}
The reissue therefore changes the work’s temporal position. The vinyl box was an event in the present tense. It said: these six artists belong inside one object now, even though no convenient genre adequately explains why. The CD says: this event deserves to remain available because its relationships are beginning to matter beyond the original moment. Reissue becomes an early form of historical recognition.
That recognition creates an unavoidable tension between rarity and access. A limited object derives part of its emotional power from care, scarcity and physical specificity. Owners may have searched for it, saved money, carried the heavy box home and lived with the knowledge that relatively few copies existed. A CD edition cannot reproduce that encounter, and pretending otherwise would cheapen both formats. But protecting the exclusivity of the box by allowing the music to disappear would confuse the scarcity of an object with the value of the art inside it.
The 1999 edition chooses transmission. It does not counterfeit the original experience by producing a miniature imitation of every physical component. It accepts that another body will create another relationship. The CD is lighter, cheaper, easier to ship, easier to play continuously and less vulnerable to the surface damage that can gradually alter long quiet passages. It can enter more rooms. The original box remains what it was, while the music acquires another route through the world.
Disc one gains particular force from this route. “Sangh Seriatim” begins with the body: bass, drums, voice, flute and guitar moving as one narcotic procession. The title’s sense of ordered succession becomes prophetic because the entire disc is now arranged seriatim, one sphere following another without manual interruption. Bardo Pond make repetition feel communal and biological. Even at their most distorted, the music retains the sensation of several people breathing inside the same physical event.
Flying Saucer Attack then weaken the certainty of those bodies. “Since When” is divided into four indexed sections, making its internal stages visible on the CD player’s display. The listener can watch numbers change while the sound itself makes boundaries difficult to perceive. This is another specifically digital paradox: the machine reports exact divisions inside music devoted to indistinction. Part one becomes part two at a precise second, but the atmosphere crosses that border without presenting identification papers.
The track indexing permits navigation, yet the strongest experience may come from refusing to use it. Played without intervention, the four movements form a study in information appearing and disappearing through noise. Melody exists behind damage, rhythm gathers beneath atmospheric debris, and the recording seems to alternate between remembering and forgetting itself. The CD promises perfect retrieval while the music stages failed reception.
Jessamine’s “22:30” completes the first disc by giving uncertainty a motor. After Bardo Pond’s organic procession and Flying Saucer Attack’s collapsing transmission, Jessamine sound like a system assembling itself from the remaining particles. Repetition becomes less geological and more architectural. Drums, bass, guitar and electronics establish a machine whose stability is continually troubled by improvisational activity.
The title is itself numerical, resembling either a duration or a point on a twenty-four-hour clock. The listed track runs longer than the title suggests, which adds another tiny displacement between number and experience. Time can be measured precisely while still being felt inaccurately. Twenty-three minutes inside Jessamine’s structure may seem brief when attention enters the pulse, or enormous when the listener waits for conventional development. Disc one ends by revealing that the clock and consciousness are not operating according to the same system.
Changing to disc two is the CD edition’s one major required physical intervention. This remaining break becomes more important because most of the original side changes have vanished. The listener leaves a first disc dominated by bands and enters a second disc that gradually narrows toward exposed individual or duo expression. The two CDs are not officially titled, but they begin to resemble collective and solitary hemispheres.
Roy Montgomery opens the second with “Fantasia on a Theme by Sandy Bull,” and the CD format alters the scale of its solitude. On vinyl, Montgomery occupied a complete side equivalent to the band sides surrounding him. On the CD, his layered guitar follows almost immediately after the listener changes discs, becoming the new system’s creation story. One person multiplies until he produces enough internal voices to replace an ensemble.
The fantasia is also about transmission across generations. Sandy Bull’s example passes into Montgomery without being copied literally. The theme becomes permission, and permission becomes another composition. This is precisely what the reissue itself accomplishes. It does not preserve the original package unchanged. It receives the box’s organizing principle and reconstructs it within another medium.
Montgomery’s later return to this piece as “Fantasia on a Theme by Sandy Bull (Slight Return)” confirms that the composition was never a sealed monument. It continued orbiting its maker, available for simplification, revision and renewed performance. A theme survives not through immobility but through the capacity to produce further variation.
Loren Mazzacane Connors breaks that expansion into four sharply defined pieces. The CD display names “Flames,” “The Gathering,” “Revolt!” and “Fand (A Tear)” separately, allowing the listener to select them as independent tracks. Yet playing them in sequence reveals that their meaning depends upon consequence. Fire leads to assembly, assembly to uprising, uprising to grief. The final tear prevents the revolt from being romanticized as pure liberation.
This sequence also resists the cosmic abstraction suggested by the collection’s title. The spheres may possess mathematical order, but human history contains violence, fracture and mourning. Connors introduces a world in which harmony cannot mean peace or pleasing agreement. His guitar tears the surface, forcing the collection to account for dissonance as a necessary relationship rather than a failure of order.
Charalambides close the disc with “Naked in Our Deathskins,” and the CD’s continuous architecture makes the entrance feel like the aftermath of Connors’ revolt. Tom and Christina Carter do not resolve the violence. They remove nearly everything that could distract from vulnerability. Voice, guitar, breath and silence reveal the mortal organism beneath the compilation’s cosmic language.
The plural “our” becomes crucial here. Deathskin is not the isolated property of a doomed individual. Every performer and listener arrives clothed in it. The body that changes records, presses play, adjusts volume and eventually stops hearing is part of the system. Harmony of the Spheres may imagine immense cosmic relationships, but its final work returns every abstraction to finite flesh.
This ending changes under digital repetition. A vinyl side reaches its locked or open runout and leaves the needle physically circling after the music has ended. A CD stops, returns to its menu or begins again according to the player’s settings. One medium ends in mechanical rotation; the other ends in numerical instruction. Neither is neutral. The silence following Charalambides has been shaped by the machine producing it.
The FLAC archive on this post creates a third version of the 1999 edition. The original CD translated six vinyl sides into two optical discs. The archive translates those discs into files capable of existing without either the vinyl box or the compact-disc package. Unlike the earlier catalog-number MP3 archive connected to the 1996 post, this lossless folder explicitly preserves the CD audio without lossy data reduction. The archive now contains two legitimate digital lives of the same music: a smaller MP3 representation of DFR-25 and a much larger FLAC representation of DFR-50.
Keeping both matters. The later file does not make the earlier one meaningless, just as the CD did not erase the triple LP. Each documents a different point in the music’s movement. The MP3 carries the logic of compact circulation and the early history of the blog’s uploads. The FLAC carries a lossless version of the official CD reconfiguration. The posts become less like duplicates than parallel observations taken from different positions.
This is closely related to the idea behind the title. A sphere cannot be completely represented by one flat image. It must be approached through several projections, each preserving some relationships and distorting others. The triple LP, double CD, MP3 archive and FLAC archive are projections of one musical body. None contains the total experience, but together they reveal dimensions that a single edition would conceal.
The vinyl box teaches segmentation, scale and ceremony. The CD teaches continuity and transmission. The MP3 teaches portability and survival through compression. The FLAC teaches preservation through abundance, accepting a larger file so that more of the digital signal remains intact. The object does not possess one true form standing above the rest. Its history is the movement among forms.
The 1999 edition may therefore be the most conceptually revealing version even though it is not the most physically spectacular. The original box declares itself extraordinary before the needle drops. The CD must prove its importance through use. Its achievement becomes apparent only when the listener notices that three separate artists have begun forming one vast composition without their individual recordings being altered.
Disc one is not merely Bardo Pond plus Flying Saucer Attack plus Jessamine. It becomes mass passing into signal and signal acquiring mechanical consciousness. Disc two is not merely Montgomery plus Connors plus Charalambides. It becomes solitary expansion, historical fracture and mortal exposure. The CD discovers two long arcs hidden inside the six-side arrangement.
This is what a worthwhile reissue can do. It need not add bonus tracks, alternate takes or explanatory scholarship to produce new meaning. Sometimes changing the path is enough. Remove four required physical interruptions and the listener hears relationships previously broken by ritual. Reduce a large box to a smaller object and the image changes from monument to encrypted message. Divide six sides into two discs and another symmetry emerges.
Harmony does not require simultaneous sound. None of these six artists play together, and the pieces retain their separate personnel, recording conditions and intentions. Their harmony occurs through memory. Bardo Pond continues resonating while Flying Saucer Attack begin. Montgomery remains present inside Connors’ flames. Connors’ tear changes the exposed body of Charalambides. The listener becomes the medium in which the pieces finally overlap.
The 1996 box made six worlds visible. The 1999 edition teaches those worlds how to travel together. That is not a lesser achievement or a repetition of the original. It is the second half of the idea.
 

Thursday, February 20, 2025

Taylor Ho Bynum - 2016 - Enter the PlusTet

 

Firehouse 12 Records – FH12-04-01-025  870.39MB FLAC
  

VA - 2010 - Viva Negativa! A Tribute To The New Blockaders Vol. III : USA 2xCD

 


Important Records – IMPREC262  1.11GB FLAC


VA - 1994 - Ambient 4 - Isolationism 2xCD


Nirgiv – 8 39810  727.31MB FLAC
 

Tracklist:
1-1 KK Null / Jim Plotkin – Lost (Held Under)  7:44
1-2 Jim O'Rourke – Flat Without A Back  4:47
1-3 Ice – The Dredger  6:36
1-4 Raoul Björkenheim– Strangers  4:42
1-5 :Zoviet France: – Daisy Gun  7:38
1-6 Labradford – Air Lubricated Free Axis Trainer  3:22
1-7 Techno Animal – Self Strangulation  6:04
1-8 Paul Schütze – Hallucinations (In Memory Of Reinaldo Arenas)  8:17
1-9 Scorn – Silver Rain Fell (Deep Water Mix) 5:25
1-10 Disco Inferno – Lost In Fog  5:02
1-11 Total – Six  5:34
1-12 Nijiumu – Once Again I Cast Myself Into The Flames Of Atonement  9:10
2-1 Aphex Twin – Aphex Airlines  6:18
2-2 AMM – Vandoevre  7:28
2-3 Seefeel – Lief  6:07
2-4 'O'Rang – Little Sister  6:59
2-5 E.A.R. – Hydroponic  6:18
2-6 Sufi – Desert Flower  6:23
2-7 David Toop / Max Eastley – Burial Rites (Phosphorescent Mix)  5:59
2-8 Main – Crater Scar (Adrenochrome)  6:09
2-9 Final – Hide  7:27
2-10 Lull – Thoughts  8:02
2-11 Thomas Köner – Kanon Part One: Brohuk  10:35

Tristan Honsinger & Olaf Rupp - 2010 - Stretto

 


FMP – FMP CD 148  295.54MB FLAC

Tony Conrad, Arnold Dreyblatt, Jim O'Rourke - 2023 - Tonic 19-01-2001

 

Black Truffle – BT100  438.33MB FLAC