That being said, 2011 was another excellent year for music. Boring trends have thankfully exhausted themselves (or I’ve just stopped paying attention — thanks for making it easy, HoZac) and new ideas are being borne in their place. Hip-hop was pretty damn thrilling regardless of whether you think these self-starters can rap, the underground rock scene was fertile and weird as always, and there was some incredible pop coming from some pretty unexpected places.

As for how I spent my time listening, I probably spent the largest part of the year looking backwards whether through reissues or older stuff that I really haven’t had the chance to dive into before thanks to new found accessibility and low/no costs (Spotify). I found a lot of joy in “vanguard” stuff that I really haven’t paid attention to before now: the Beatles catalogue, Pink Floyd’s mid-‘70s output, Led Zeppelin’s III and IV, Creedence, etc. I even went to a Pink Floyd lazer show, which was just as ridiculous, hilarious and fun as I though it would be, especially because we had a bottle of whiskey with us. I also found a lot of interesting stuff by diving back into areas that were a little more obscure, at least for me: ‘Ardcore’s anthems, mid-’70s to mid-’80s proto-techno, Asian psych rock, Hawaiian psych folk, and New Age. And there were a few artists and bands, in particular that gave me a bunch of joy this year: Michael Chapman, Howard Nishioka, Spiritualized, Teenage Fanclub, Michael Hurley, Drunks With Guns, Philip Glass, Dead Moon, on and on and on.

So, in short, quite a year of listening. Here are 20 records new stuff really hit the spot (in alphabetical order):

araabMUZIK – Electronic Dream (Duke, Digital)
Blues Control & Laraaji – FRKWYS Vol. 8 (RVNG, LP)
Demdike Stare – Tryptych (Modern Love, 3xCD)
Grouper – AIA: Alien Observer / AIA: Dream Loss (Yellowelectric, LP)
Laurel Halo – Hour Logic (Hippos In Tanks, LP)
High Wolf – Atlas Nation (Holy Mountain, LP)
Kitchen’s Floor – Look Forward to Nothing (Siltbreeze, LP)
King Blood – Eyewash Silver (Permanent, LP)
Dan Melchior – Assemblage Blues (Siltbreeze, LP)
MV & EE – Country Stash (Three Lobed, LP)
Frank Ocean – Nostalgia, Ultra (No Label, Digital)
Oneohtrix Point Never – Replica (Software, LP)
The Psychic Paramount – II (No Quarter, LP)
Real Estate – Days (Mexican Summer, Digital)
Sic Alps – Napa Asylum (Drag City, 2xLP)
Six Organs of Admittance – Asleep on the Floodplain (Drag City, LP)
Skullflower – Fucked on a Pile of Corpses (Cold Spring, CD)
Swiftumz – Don’t Trip (Holy Mountain, LP)
Thee Oh Sees – Carrion Crawler/The Dream (In The Red, LP)
Kurt Vile – Smoke Ring For My Halo(Matador, LP)

And 5 more singles/EPs:

Circle Pit – Slave (Hardly Art, 7”)
Mantles – “Raspberry Thighs” (SDZ, 7”)
Milk Music – Beyond Living (No Label, 12”)
Purling Hiss – Lounge Lizards (Mexican Summer, 12”)
Watery Love “Two Things”/”Die With Dignity” (Negative Guest List/Siltbreeze, 7”)

Actress – Harrier ATTK/Gershwin (Nonplus, Digi., 2011)

There’s something very satisfying about Darren Cunningham’s Actress work (Werk?, LOL JK!) in its constant reference to electronic music past, without being completely obvious like some of his contemporaries. Actress easily put out one of my favorite 2010 releases in Splazsh, an ornery, masterful record that pulled equal parts from early 90s IDM, German Kosmische music, dubstep (the more moody variety, not that hair-metal, USA-brand stuff), and others that I’m less qualified to talk about. The Harrier ATTK/Gershwin single seems a logical continuation from Splazsh, which itself was all over the stylistic map, though not unfocused. On side A, Cunningham seems to be using similar dub textures of Flying Lotus, keeping things at a reasonable, somewhat stoned pace with the requisite graniness. On “Gershwin” the pace is sped up a bit and a little more melody is introduced making it the more anthemic of the two even though recording quality and brain rattling drum patterns create a distinct claustrophobia not on “Harrier ATTK”. Another great document of an artist pumping out some fascinating stuff.

araabMUZIK – Electronic Dream (Duke, Digital, 2011)

I’m having trouble finding another record released this year that I’ve listened to more. Abraham Orellana originally made his name via production work for the Dipset crew, but Electronic Dream proves there’s a totally different, non-rap and probably more relevant side (really, who cares about Cam’ron now?). This kind of seems like the type of music you’d expect to hear at a club at 4:00 in the morning where things are already kind of blurry and totally over-saturated. It’s pulling from both the rap and house music worlds, but it’s blended so well — choppy on some levels, goopy and fuzzy in such a way that it just explodes despite how flat it probably looks on paper. Vocals, when they are there, are way down in the mix making me think of Loveless and shoegaze in general — a strange, but relevant touchstone for this. Really, it’s just a great batch of tracks, loosely mixed when he felt like it, but, more importantly, excellent.

Blues Control & Laraaji – FRKWYS Vol. 8 (RVNG, LP, 2011)

If you remotely follow these pages, you’ll note that I’m an rather large advocate of Blues Control’s particular brand of new age drone/American komische music. It’s incredibly interesting, always unusual, and often transcendent, using what appears to be not much more than keys, guitar and a rickety old drum machine to create wildly colorful sound worlds without clear reference points — quite a feat at this steal-whatever day in age. Blues Control’s considerable 2011 output (albeit mainly reissue-focused) continues here with new age mystic Laraaji (and his companion Arji Cakouros) aboard for a FRKWYS installment. Many know Laraaji from his excellent contributions to Brian Eno’s Ambient 3 (Day of Radiance) LP, a stunning trip of zither and synth drone that has become a very obvious reference point for the New Age Class of 2011. The pairing couldn’t be more excellent, yeilding similar results to Vol. 7, although even a little more whole due to the true collaborative sense at its core. There’s moments here that sound a bit like “Rest on Water”, but there’s the sense that, more than anything, Blues Control are specifically pulling from their new age roots in Watersports and giving ample space to Laraaji’s floating zither, allowing for a slowly billowing and unfolding drift to the tracks. The LP comes with nearly 50 extra minutes of music making it relatively clear that this combination yielded some rather fruitful results — hope to see quite a bit more of it in the future.

Borden, Ferraro, Godin, Halo, & Lopatin – FRKWYS Vol. 7 (RVNG, LP, 2011)

Some of the brightest, analog synth-inclined minds get together for this “supergroup” amalgamation, which plans to take over the world with icy synth drones, apparently. It’s a solid look, if the most obvious direction of many. Truly, what the hell else were they going to do? Pop songs? Get too many cooks in the kitchen and, well, you know. Really, what you’ve got here are some new age-ish synth washes that build from (sometimes) sinister, dark structure into something that ties up nicely into some sort of “happy ending”. The influence of each is not obvious, but the structure of these tracks allows for the group to easily play off one another. I hear a bit more Lopatin and Halo than anyone while Ferraro submits some of those dolphin-esque clips he’s built his more and more ridiculous reputation on. While Borden and Godin — who knows? Either way, it’s a pretty interesting listen that rewards close or distant attention.

Leyland Kirby – Eager to Tear Apart the Stars (History Always Favours the Winners, LP, 2011)

Kirby’s had quite the output both through his Christian name and via the Caretaker alias. I’m not his biggest fan (though my record shelf may tell you otherwise), so the difference between the two appears rather negligible; however, those records bearing his given name appear to feature a little more original composition rather than the Caretaker’s fucked-with-ballroom-78s approach. Eager to Tear Apart the Stars has a couple of approaches: the first in the vein of soundtracks similar to one of those dark early-’80s dark-underworld flicks (Thief, Cruising, etc.), although only after the VHS had soaked up enough attic heat and humidity to warp and recontextualize what may have been some straightforward dingy synth pads into a surreal ethereal dreamscape. The second approach is a somewhat more Caretaker-like sound, with synth strings and piano gently, gorgeously floating under a halo of reverb and hiss. Either way he chooses, the beauty of Kirby’s lost memory music is at once fascinating, enthralling and revelatory.

Swiftumz – Don’t Trip (Holy Mountain, LP, 2011)

It’s tricky coming right off the bat with a tuff gnarl like “Don’t Cha Want Me Back?”, a swirling pop meltdown that leaves you kind of scratching your head wondering were it goes from there. This guy behind Swiftumz, Chris McVicker, knows that you just need to follow it up with 9 straight-up hits. Don’t Trip is an excellent run of baggy, Balearic references, fuzzy guitars, dreamy, and immediate pop songwriting. “Angelita”, the best song in this remarkable package, sounds like what I always wished the Jesus and Mary Chain sounded like all along, ethereal and glowing. In its short run time, Don’t Trip covers more stylistic ground than most of its reference points (Ween reference here), and often better. Definitely worth giving Chris a call over (his number is on the cover) — thank him for his tweets and one of the best pop records of 2011.

Blues Control – Puff (Woodsist, LP, 2007)

Puff kind of disappeared there for a minute, but it appears that we’re in a period of Blues Control appreciation, with their earliest tapes and records (as BC and Watersports) are all back and available for personal enjoyment. Looking backwards, the most impressive notion about a band like Blues Control is the absolute dedication to their single-minded, unique sound and how fully formed they arrived. That’s to say: uh, no one sounds like Blues Control. Side A of Puff starts somewhat similar to the Watersports stuff, with rickety, panning, non-linear drum machine and Lea Cho’s airy key swells, until a straight up piano vamp lays down, that eventually peels back and gets layered, allowing some room for Russ Waterhouse’s careening guitar work. The flip rips into it a bit more with lots of top-of-the-mountain guitar riffs as bracing as they are ridiculous, a feat that’s not easy to accomplish or sustain, while the keys and drums slowly undulate underneath. Not surprisingly, yet another remarkable document from a remarkable band.

The Ceiling Stares/The Super Vacations – Split (VOS/Sweaters & Pearls, 7”, 2011)

Pittsburgh band The Ceiling Stares get top billing on this and it seems they must’ve had the better bag of weed of the two, choosing to run down a decent enough take on Ganglians-style lo-fi psych-pop with group harmonies. The recent reference point seems apt as any, particularly because this group sound like they got their dull Beach Boys references somewhere way down the line from the originators. Some decent guitar work on “A Tunnel Through the Air” makes me miss better college rock all over again, until I tune back in and remember how bad most of it was. On the flip, Virginia band The Super Vacations file 2 similar fuzzy chiggers, sounding like young dudes that haven’t outgrown their Nirvana and the Hives records and who now try to pin an Intelligence influence here and there. These songs have been around all too much lately — predictable and palatable enough, but absolutely nothing to get excited about here. Edition of 500, 250 on green vinyl from Velocity of Sound and 250 on purple from Sweaters & Pearls.

Dirty Faces – Get Right With God (Brah, CD, 2006)

Pretty funny that this proto-garage/careening rock and roll stuff has become relatively popular here for a minute and there’s been nary a mention of these Pittsburgh lifers. I assume they’re waiting it out, hiding from any semblance of spotlight so that they can kind of reappear when all the chatter dies down. Get Right With God is not a great record, but it’s quite good and very clearly a few years too ahead of it’s time. It’s a bluesy, tough romp through ‘70s heavy rock (a beer-drinking version of Royal Trux, almost), but filtered through a hardcore prism so that all the bloat is sloughed off. Part of the problem stems from the fact that something is very clearly missing in the translation from what seems to be a powerful live incarnation and the “studio” versions of these songs which just kind of seem flat. That being said, their sound is quite excellent — one that every Hozac band should be trying to rip, instead of flushing themselves down the toilet by stealing from one another. I stumbled back onto this one after a respite, so could very well be that this band is over by now, but either way, another interesting view of Steel City punk rock and another band that I probably should have seen live.

Fat History Month – A Gorilla EP (Sweaters & Pearls, 7”, 2011)

Remember when this stuff was not disparagingly called “emo”? Still holds some water, maybe, as this very mid-’90s sounding, clunky, off-kilter and abrasive moan type of shit still screams LIBERAL ARTS HEARTBREAK VICTIM. There’s parts of past glories like earlyish Modest Mouse (“Heart Takes a Beating”, in particular), US Maple (the sloppy, falling apart rhythm on side A), Bedhead, Dischord offshoots, and even something like what I imagine Braid sounded like floating around here in equal measure. Fortunately, these poorly named Boston kids blend it all rather well, into something that’s an enjoyable blast of past indie/emo rock glories designed into a nice new package that would’ve probably gotten a good review in Magnet. Wait, that magazine is still around? 500 copies on banana vinyl.

Imaginary Softwoods – The Path of Spectrolite (Amethyst Sunset, LP, 2011)

It’s certainly still surprising to see how bracing, ice-cool synth music is somehow still the flavor of the week. Although it probably shouldn’t be surprising considering the gear/record fetishists producing the stuff, my alarm is just due to the remarkable amount of product that has seen the light of day, making it completely unreasonable to keep up with with dudes that love appegiators. The Emeralds camp, John Elliott, Mark McGuire and Steve Hauschildt in particular, have really flooded the market, making it near impossible to know which way is up. Perhaps that’s for the best, as any product decisions seem to really be the right ones. This new platter, one of John Elliott’s pseudonyms, is certainly not far off from what one would expect it to be, using solo synth arpeggios and melodramatic melody to recreate some variation on mid-’80s soundtrack work. Yep, you’ve got your Faltermeyer, Moroder, Hammer, new age, and komische references, which all resonate over here having been the (partial) soundtrack of my youth. Elliott’s work is a little lighter than on some of the Emeralds stuff, certainly more airy, deliberate and wide-lensed. While certainly not essential to any collection, I’m still not complaining this stuff continues to see the light of day.

Mondo Ray – Hypnotised (Windian, 7”, 2011)

For the life of me, I’ll never understand why people want to retread something the, like, Hellacopters did (and way better at that). I mean: this is still a thing? Do people really love second-rate fifth-wave garage rock? When I worked for a college radio station in the early-00’s, we used to see CD upon CD of traditional garage/punk rock — I figured it might have actually faded, due to diminished demand and oversaturation. But apparently it just made its way over to vinyl. Not really sure what this German outfit is looking to prove, but this literally does nothing to me. It’s not oppressively bad by any stretch, but I just have an extremely difficult time even trying to understanding who wants to hear something like this and why the time and money were spent to press it in the first place. Know that thing when a band has no edge and you’ve heard their songs done a million times even before you’ve listened to them? Yeah.

The Penetrators – “Gotta Have Her” b/w “Baby, Dontcha Tell Me” (Windian, 7”, 2011; Fred, 1976)

It’s hard to tell what impact this band really had back in late ‘70s, and particularly in a town like Syracuse, but this Windian reissue of the Stooges by way of Electric Prunes/Sonics garage rock fills some sort of regional map, I guess. The riff on “Gotta Have Her” sounds lifted right off of Raw Power, but thinner and with the vocals lacking any sort of urgent threat. I’ve heard about as much of this sound as I can consume by now and I’m not a big genre guy, so it’s hard for me to get too psyched without some sort of superhook or menace or violence (see: Dirty Faces). Of the two, “Baby, Dontcha Tell Me” comes off better here — Nuggets-style chug, with a little more sex and way more revved up. For the garage rock heads out there, this sorta reissue probably doesn’t get much better. I guess the rest of us can go play Fun House again.

Washed Out – Before Today (Sub Pop, LP, 2011)

The fact that this record ripped its cover off of a Cosmopolitan magazine photo spread should probably tell you if you’re going to even get past the prospect of an album like this. For some, that’s likely a totally unacceptable step towards mass consumption which is, uh, wrecking our industry, maaan. It’s like working with Taco Bell or, worse, selling some shitty clothing line (is Bugle Boy still around?) from a limited pulpit. But it’s a pretty prescient parallel — indie pop guy reads a magazine with few redeemable qualities, his music must be the same!

Admittedly, the cover art isn’t the only thing here snowballing h8ers, because, yeah, people hate themselves some chillwave. Which is fine. I get that. Me? I don’t, but maybe I don’t have any taste for all you know. I ate at Popeyes the other night, for fuck’s sake. Those goopy keyboards, Balearic beat references (particularly to “Pacific State” on “Echoes”), and marble-mouthed moans all kind of resonate with me. Essentially, this is simple mood music and weak, mushy electronica for sensitive types. It’s totally understandable why some will hate this and it’s nearly impossible to argue. But I’m also a guy that took a bus 3 hours to see the Dismemberment Plan in 2000, listening to Jets to Brazil on the way up. So, feel free to go back to your Yeti — I’ll be over here reading In Touch for a minute, reminiscing.

Curren$y – Weekend At Burnie’s (WB, Digi., 2011)

Assuming that this is everyone’s cup of tea here: Currin$y can do nothing wrong these days, it seems. It’s part charisma and part the time of year that these these sticky, synth laden songs can air out with the windows down, but Weekend at Burnie’s breathes fresh life into that same weed-rap road that’s been hoed a million times over. Plenty more have said this before me: Currin$y’s definitely a talented rapper with a good ear for melody and wordplay, but not really game changing. But as one of the few rap albums I’ll really spend significant time with this year, it seems like one of the more fun ones, even if it is one-dimensional. Which, you know, is good. No, Weekend At Burnie’s is not as good as one of the ridiculous Pilot Talk discs, but it’s still warm and welcoming. Seems that Currin$y is one of the most dependable MCs today, even if he is a minor figure. We’ll see if he can step outside his comfort zone moving forward to pick up some speed.

Laurel Halo – Antenna (NNA, CS, 2011)

The more experimental-leaning of the two Halo releases listed here, Antenna runs full-tilt into places that Hour Logic only hinted at but ultimately fixed in the background for a more song-focused approach. Antenna gives some of the same sweeping midnight cityscapes vis a vis analog sources, but it’s almost more of a soundtrack approach in that it’s interested in the impact of sounds rather than straightforward songs. Certainly not a bad thing, but if I’m going to choose, I’m going to go with the “tracks” 9 times out of 10 over ethereal meandering (it should be mentioned that “Head” here kind of fits the track bill, but that also appears on Hour Logic). However, and somewhat interestingly, Antenna is probably the more forward-looking of the two recent releases and certainly less referential except to bleak, dystopian 80s synth soundtracks and the occasional ambient Aphex Twin track.

An interesting listen, although not essential. It’ll be great to see how and if she combines this and Hour Logic’s song focus in the future.

Laurel Halo – Hour Logic (Hippos In Tanks, 12”, 2011)

It’s been a while since I’ve been completely floored by a record like Hour Logic, but this thing hasn’t left my turntable in about a month. Laurel Halo (is that her real name!?), judging by her inclusion on the Borden, Ferraro, Godin, Halo and Lopatin Frkwys collaboration, rides in many of the same avant-analog-synth circles that have been arpeggiating so many late night sound tracks around here. Importantly though, rather than some Dolphins To The Future-type synth goop, what we’ve got here is some good old fashioned techno. Yes. There are echoes of 808 State, early, rave-centric Aphex Twin, Future Sound of London, and any number of dark-yet-pastel dance songs that you probably could have found spinning at the Hacienda. However, rather than be a simple glimpse back into the Second Summer of Love, there’s a very important forward looking streak to Hour Logic. Although the reference points (and what reference points!) remain, they’re used more as stepping stones to create a completely absorbing digital-age soundtrack, one that exists somewhere between the nightclub, the majesty of the city at night and the paradox of actually just dreaming all that shit up by staring at a laptop. Hypnagogic, yes. But more importantly, a massive and a nearly perfect record. Highly recommended.

Leyland Kirby – Intrigue & Stuff, Vol. 1 (History Always Favors the Winners, 12”, 2011)

A kind of left-field, although fascinating entry into the Leyland Kirby/Caretaker catalogue. Kirby, as we’ve known him up to this record, focused on exploring the shady corridors of memory loss via crackling and sputtering 78s and subliminal melody. However, with the first of four 12” EPs in the Intrigue & Stuff series we’re given a totally different angle to investigate into Kirby’s ongoing oeuvre. Gone are the manipulated 78s, caverns of reverb, and the slow, patient synth blurs that neared impressionist levels. Instead, we’re given something that might, somehow play in a club with, like, an art installation. There’s times that this comes off as something like what one might expect from proto-Techno and the German synth masters (Cluster, Mobeius, et. al.), albeit a bit more skewed and swallowed. There’s even moments nearing Goblin, Faltermeyer and Carpenter territory on the flip, yet more grainy and diseased. Quite an, um, intriguing listen.

Purling Hiss – Lounge Lizards (Mexican Summer, 12”, 2011)

Another fine outing from one of Philadelphia’s finest and all around generously nice guy, Mike Polizze, who, despite his afaffable nature, has inspired me to quit my guitar on more than one occasion. Although Purling Hiss kicked off as a sort of side project for Polizze, looks as though they’ve quickly surpassed the original main attraction in Birds of Maya just due to sheer volume of output. Lounge Lizards is yet another batch of tasty licks (yes, seriously) compressing everything excellent about the band and about ‘70s boogie, ‘80s cheese rock (was that VH’s electric drill on “Midnight Man”?!) and punk/garage into one giant steamroller that continues to roll into the more melodic and song-oriented direction more than ever before. While the live event will always remain the real draw for me with PH/BoM, for those of you without the regional means to do so, there’s this — a very nice, if very distant second option.

Skullflower – Fucked on a Pile of Corpses (Cold Spring, CD, 2011)

At this point, it’s either clear to you what Matthew Bower and accompanied friends’ M.O. is or you’re never going to care. That’s cool, I get that – there’s a lot of shit out there, one doesn’t always have the time, money, etc. and eardrum-shredding, bilious noise is not for everyone. Not to mention, picking what is probably the most disgusting (although appropriate considering the ecstasy/agony themes inherent here) title possible makes it more than a little understandable that many may pass on this one. However, for fans of heavy music, particularly noise and black metal might want to pay attention to this one. Coming off last years painful and strangulated Strange Keys to Untune God’s Firmament, it was hard to see how much more nihilistic and downright fried it might get. Thankfully, instead of moving in a more unlistenable direction (was that even an option?), Skullflower opt to head in a more morose, metal-influenced direction, replete with — nearly buried and obfuscated, of course — minor key melody. What you essentially have is Skullflower’s trademark fuzz and feedback powerwashing flayed black metal, shards spraying everywhere creating a totally overwhelming, disorienting, and ultimately cathartic listen. Certainly not Sunday morning-type stuff, but damn well worth a listen, especially for those looking to see another bridge being built between the metal/noise chasm.

Smog – Red Apple Falls (Drag City, CD, 1997)

Looking back, Smog was clearly one of those artists that just totally upended how I listen to music. Back in ‘02, living in my first apartment in Winston-Salem, NC, I remember stumbling onto Knock Knock by osmosis from other like-minded artists. The impact was immediate: slack jawed and holy-shitting all over the place, it became plainly clear that the words some of these hip doofuses secrete into the microphone could be absolutely stunning if they learned a little of Smog’s overall simplicity. Things don’t need to be overwritten. Not to overstate it, but it certainly changed the way that I even communicate personally: I started measuring everything with much more care, to drive points home. I can’t tell you how many times I sat in front of the speakers and drooled over Callahan’s croak, trying to figure out how I could best steal it and use it for my purposes. Turns out, it’s not easy at all.

Red Apple Falls is maybe the first of mid-period Callahan — kind of the point where he steps up from the youthful messiness to assume a spot on the mid-fi, sad bastard indie rock throne. Yes, “Ex Con” is the corker here (“Jean jacket and tie/I feel like such a lie” is a freaking lyric, folks), but the mainly slow, sardonic, crawling country numbers certainly set a perfect vehicle for Callahan’s perfect baritone. Callahan is consistently maligned as morose, self-serious and depressing — which: yes, he is — but the melodies don’t always make it clear that this dude is funny even when he’s being grave. It’s probably not the first record to turn the uninitiated onto, but certainly something to return to when trying to peel back layers and get closer to the core. Yeah, that’s emo of me, but this stuff will do that to me every time.

Sun Araw – Ancient Romans (Sun Ark, 2xLP, 2011)

Yet another reason to rejoice: the fourth full length from psychedelic journeyman, Cameron Stallones (that name!). On first listen, Romans comes across as something of a step backward fidelity-wise, especially considering the lavish, beautiful, and hilariously over-sized packaging and title. There’s a bit more awash in static here, synth and organ climbs are recorded a little too loud and there’s a strong, overwhelming bass buzz. But at the core, you’ve still got that floppy, slunk down dub funk that makes Sun Araw records crucial soundtracks. Stallones appears to have taken the next logical step from On Patrol, which is shining a bit more daylight on the spaced out, minimal dub. It’s certainly obvious that Sun Araw takes some major cues from Jamaican music (Keith Hudson, the Congos, etc.), however, with each subsequent record, he appears to be less referential and more self-sufficient at developing unique melody out of a murky din. “Crete” for example, is awash in watery texture until the last couple minutes explade in an unbelievably funky organ riff, nearly snapping your head off from too much head nodding. It’s moments like that that make it clear that Stallones has an incredible sense of compisition — he takes occasionally painful patience to unveil those blissful, transcendant moments that just make a song explode. While it’s probably not my favorite, Ancient Romans is a hell of a worthy entry into a artist’s catalog that’s certainly picking up some steam.

Evan Caminiti – When California Falls Into the Sea (Electric Totem, LP, 2011)

Barn Owl, Caminiti’s main project, is something of a desert drone rock outfit, replete with wide open spaces and slow crawling post-rock. Here on When California Falls Into the Sea it’s Caminiti by himself and (surprise!) it sounds like a Barn Owl record, only if all the other backing tracks were muted. That’s not a bad thing, necessarily. Caminiti is a hell of a player – his tone doesn’t stray from slightly distorted (with an occasional dappling of tremolo, reverb, or delay), but his versatility moves this thing along rather quickly. There are short blusters of frustrated, tangled strings, each resonant, but there’s also the barren, reverbed, finger-picked moments, like when the sun finally sets on a parched, barren and ominous landscape. I hear echoes of Tom Carter/Charalambides (though more direct and obvious) and even Loren Connors (though less primal). While he hasn’t rewritten the book yet, the fact that the true focus here is on Caminiti’s playing makes me like this platter a little more than what I’ve even heard from Barn Owl. Not to mention, the versatility makes me think there are plenty more places for them to go.

If you’ve ever wondered what’s being played at that church in the “November Rain” video after dark when the wolves come out, here you go.

Tom Carter – All Ahead Now (Root Strata, CS, 2011)

Listen, I’m all for artistic miscegenation. If some sort of pilfering doesn’t happen, we’re all left with something like mid-‘90s alterna-radio – music scrubbed of meaning and out of ideas. Let’s admit it: genre music usually sucks. However, I find it bananas when a (somewhat) well-known and well-regarded artist, decides to ape someone coming from behind when they’ve already established themselves as the vanguard. As has been said, maybe that’s pride fucking with you? Like, a machismo type of thing where there’s a need to keep up, in light of potentially becoming irrelevant by continuing to hone one’s particular craft.

I’m not trying to say that Tom Carter is a pretender – he’s not. He put out some of the most beautiful records I’ve heard in Charalambides. However, with All Ahead Now, there’s this unexpected, weird James Ferraro type thing happening at the outset. Honestly at the beginning, this sounds nearly exactly how I’d expect the next Ferraro triptych to sound and made me recheck the liner notes a few times (at least on “Go To The Mirror Boy”). However, as any somewhat subjective listener that spends his hard earned cash on music, I gave it more than a 5 minute chance. All’s well as it turns out: Mr. Carter is in fact still reworking the definition of what it means to be a player. These are some dense soul-ragas, not hypnagogic dream sequences – more personal that extra-terrestrial. They’re much more aggressive than Carter usually plays, but never macho. They peel around curves, guitars squall and shudder, always coming back to the bass drone and the point: distinct melody.

So, which is it? You want to know as you dear reader have followed me this far up my ass – right? It’s pretty great. Great to see a guy taking chances. And great to see a guy succeeding.

Rhys Chatham – Guitar Trio Is My Life! (Radium/Table of the Elements, 3xCD, 2008)

Curiosity finally got me on this one. I‘ve been following some of Chatham’s work and pretty much fell in love with A Crimson Grail last year and decided to take the plunge on his No Wave/minimalism-as-maximalism thesis, Guitar Trio. To be honest, I didn’t really fully read everything I probably could have before jumping into it because, really, all you have here is one chord, an Em7, played until the piece is exhausted. Clearly, I should’ve known, as the scope of Chatham’s other work all follows suit. In addition, had I have known, I probably wouldn’t have jumped into 3 CDs of the same stuff. But: here we are.

So, how is it? Um, it’s rather incredible. Powerful. Transgressive in a historical sense. Historically essential. Absolute. It speaks to the sheer power of electric guitar music and the utter glory that’s possible within its nearly endless forms. This is egoless music – you will not hear Thurston Moore, Tony Conrad, Lee Ranaldo, Alan Licht, Ben Vida, or any of the other players on here, so don’t listen for it. No, this is the most pure form of rock possible and 30 years later it still sounds outstanding. A true masterpiece.

Expo ’70 – Awakening (Sonic Meditations, LP, 2011; orig: Sloow Tapes, CS, 2009)

Expo ’70 seems to be one of those artists that I can’t get enough of, even though everything is a very basic permutation on one idea. More specifically, it’s the monolithic drone. Main bro Justin Wright seems most interested in creating a very sci-fi vibe with minimal components — almost in 2001 sort of vibe. Awakening apparently was recorded with only electric guitar and drum machine (and, uh, a plethora of delay and reverb). As such, this is one of Wright’s more stripped back affairs, focusing on slowly billowing ripples of drone, but still sounding pretty much like everything else he’s already done. Still, that’s not to say that it’s simple. Rather, the guitars fold back in on one another, creating a strange prismic effect. Awakening might be as good a starting point as any, but I’d probably recommend the Center of the Universe CDr/2xLP, but only for the overall variation throughout.

MV & EE – Country Stash (Three Lobed, LP, 2011)

It’s pretty easy to see why so many of Matt Valentine and Erika Elder’s (yes: MV & EE) LPs disappear so quickly — they’re these really comfortable, warm psychedelic records that kind of feel perfect at any time of the day and don’t really require a ton of work on the listener’s part. They’re like the equivalent of a more fried and mellow Grateful Dead, very willing to start further out from the outset. And although that might seem like something of a slight to say that it isn’t a challenging listen, that’s really more of a testament to how MV & EE build these tunes. There are difficult solos and forms here, but they come off so evenly and simple that Country Stash can pass right by your ear without even noticing the beanstalk climbing solos or off-center chord progressions.

In addition to being joined by a parade of other musicians, Valentine and Elder are noticeably accompanied by Jeremy Earl’s (Woods) unearthly croon, which really sets off an already incredible song like “The Crash Palace of Records”. If you’re already a fan, Country Stash is probably already in your hands at this point (and justifiably so), but if you’re looking for a good entry point into the mellow, dusty psych rock world of MV & EE you could start in worse places.

Starfuckers – Metallic Diseases (Holy Mountain, LP, 2011; orig: Electric Eye, LP, 1990)

Even though virtually everything is being reissued every year (sometimes 8 months after the fact — hello Tomboy!), it’s really great to see some genuinely surprising and great music coming back out, especially on vinyl. In this case it’s Starfuckers, an Italian group that released a criminally small pressing of their masterpiece Metallic Diseases that disappeared, only to be rescued by one of the finest labels in the land, Holy Mountain. I feel like this was designed with my wheelhouse in mind with equal parts obvious Stooges derangement and Spacemen 3 psychedelia: no bullshit, head nod stomp rock that drives a riff into oblivion at times and floats dreamlike at others. For my money, “The Right Side” is the best song that former labelmates Wooden Shjips never wrote nearly 20 years before the fact and, my favorite track, “Flower Lover” smolders with one of those riffs that snake along the floor like that degenerate in Brooklyn that wraps himself up in rugs and asks you to stomp on him. Creep. Metallic Diseases is for fans of rock music that isn’t necessarily posturing when wearing a leather jacket, but rather ready for the inevitable roadburn.

These Trails – These Trails (Drag City, LP, 2011; orig.: self-released, 1973)

Although it’s not a band name, These Trails is the mysterious product of two straight-up hippie songwriters — from Hawaii! — Margaret Morgan and Patrick Crockett. It’s the precise type of record that understandably gets lost: there was no real artist name on the jacket, there was never any available information about the band or artist that produced the record, and, frankly, I imagine the music was a little too “outsider” for most people. It clearly got lost, which made it ripe for the reissue picking (and has multiple variations over) as there’s some really good stuff to be had. There’s a dense thread of partly cloudy acid folk throughout, making the tracks seem quite full despite only featuring a couple of instruments on each – mainly guitar and Arp synthesizer (as well as various other stringed instruments here and there), a strange combination, but a winning one. It makes some of the tracks like “Psyche I & Share Your Water” these weird psych-prog-space odysseys. The singing is a little precious at times, but, given your tolerance, never really that annoying despite Morgan’s wide vibrato. Sure, this is a sound that many (Espers, Joanna Newsom, etc.) have since picked up on, but the original incarnations never fail to be more moving for me. Yep, good old Drag City keeps pulling these gems outta the stacks, making it difficult to say no. Worth the time, particularly on a humid, Saturday afternoon.

The Art Museums – “S.H.O.P.P.I.N.G.” b/w “Feel Like Dreams” (Dulc-i-tone, 7”, 2011)

Not sure what took this one so long to come out — The Art Museums’ (or, SF mainstay Glenn Donaldson and Josh Alper) original LP came out last year on Woodsist. “S.H.O.P.P.I.N.G.” in particular has been floating around in the form of this ridiculous video. Either way, now that we have the take-home version, I can officially say it’s their best track – obviously silly, but a nice facsimile of airy 80s pop (roto toms, reverbed synth solo, jangly guitars) that neatly borders the C86/new-wave/new romantic lines and is just pasteled-out enough to get by on charm alone. No, it’s certainly not consequential, but pop music very rarely is, and I’m OK with that. On the flip, “Feel Like Dreams” is pretty nice summertime music as well, which thankfully doesn’t overstay its welcome, gone before I can start thinking about how much I dislike the Smiths and bands like ‘em. So, certainly not crucial, but nice enough and holds up a lot better than 10 songs of this stuff.

Circle Pit – “Slave”/”Honey” (Hardly Art, 7”, 2011)

Boy, this one was tough to find – finally ran across this double-A side at Amoeba in LA during a west coast adventure that took me and the lovely lady down the coast from San Francisco to the Hollywood Hills. I really liked the Siltbreeze debut of this clearly less-than-healthy-looking duo, but this is quite a departure from Bruise Constellation. To me, “Slave” sounds like a less fussy Spiritualized, but erotic and druggy. “Honey” continues the same drone gospel vibe, with a nice dual vocal, some tasteful organ, an excellent guitar solo, and a massive chorus. Yeah, it’s a clear departure from the Stones/Trux churn of the debut, as nothing here really ever gets itself all that worked up, as they find it OK to stay slunk down in a hazy VU daydream. Ya know what? That’s OK with me too. Worth the trouble, after all.

The Dirtbombs – Party Store (In The Red, 3xLP, 2011)

Embarrassingly, I didn’t know many of the original Detroit Techno centerpieces that the Dirtbombs recast here, which are all classics (at least in some circles). Guess that’s my disclaimer: kind of a n00b. That being said, this type of reimaging has the potential for disastrous results and it’s presumably necessary that one should go in with low expectations. Not so here. The Dirtbombs truly honor the strength of the songwriting in the originals, which is occasionally not given a true critical second thought, ‘least not by the masses. For their part, the Dirtbombs add in a weight and reality that most of the originals don’t seem to have – seeing as how techno was somewhat designed to be an escape, that makes sense that their garage rock setup brings a coarseness to the proceedings. However, the physicality of the tracks remains (try having “Bug In The Bass Bin” not send you to outer space) and hearing these tracks unfurl in a different context makes for a truly great listen, even though my wallet quivers with the prospect of tracking down the original artists’ back catalogues. I owe ‘em that much?

Flipper – Gone Fishin’ (4 Men With Beards, LP, 2009; orig: Subterranean, 1984)

Ah, my (current) favorite Flipper LP: originally coming out back in ’84 on Subterranean and really just perfect. From the first curmudgeonly whallop that is “The Lights The Sound The Rhythm The Noise” it’s like the sonic blueprint of grunge is laid out before you, ripe for the picking. Shit, were I around when those bands were first making noise, I’d undoubtedly be aping this stuff too. Ted Falconi’s guitar playing is just that perfect. Sure, Gone Fishin’ is definitely a “clean” record compared to Album, but the playing is just that much more accomplished and the songwriting is just as much of a riot (I mean, “Survivors of the Plague” has the potential to be the best drunken sing along ever). For me, it doesn’t get any better – Flipper were probably the best band toeing the line between agitating and fascinating/noise and punk, and all before it got old.

Horseback – The Gorgon Tongue: Impale Golden Horn & Forbidden Planet (Relapse, 2xCD, 2011)

A couple of years back I was completely blown away by Jenks Miller’s The Invisible Mountain, a milestone of melodic yet blackened metal, ethereal yet totally powerful at the same time. So, when I heard that Relapse was continuing their campaign to reissue Horseback’s back catalogue, I jumped. To be honest, I’m a bit underwhelmed by disc 1, the reissue of Impale Golden Horn, a CD-r released back in ’07. It’s a very familiar sound these days, opting to forgo what developed into the more traditional song structure of The Invisible Mountain for puffy clouds of drone similar to the sunnier moments of Nadja or a Tim Hecker record. Yes, an array of feedback, slowly curling guitars, and delicately placed percussion that means Impale Golden Horn doesn’t really stick to the ribs. Now, had I heard this back when it was released, I’d likely be singing a different tune. For now, I’m worn out on it.

Forbidden Planet, however, drops the needle a little differently and certainly on a more threatening, buzzsawed and, yes, black note. It appears that Forbidden Planet first appeared on tape in 2010, and it’s certainly a good glimpse into where we might see Jenks Miller’s head next. First track “Veil of Maya” sets a decidedly more sinister tone, mixing frayed, buzzing guitars with Miller’s harsh growl and migraine-inducing glitch. It’s clear that you’re listening to a metal record here, albeit by someone that’s probably as informed by La Monte Young as Burzum, as one track fades into the next, with a more perfect drone underpinning everything. It’s a very psychedelic record, disorienting in its minimalism, which turns out to be rather complex the deeper you dive.

So, although neither record is as great as The Invisible Mountain, Forbidden Planet can really bend your mind if you’ll let it and Impale Golden Horn is, uh, nice reading music. Still, for me, this just makes me want to hear Horseback’s next one that much more.

Keith Hudson – Flesh Of My Skin, Blood Of My Blood (Basic Replay, LP, 2004; orig: Atra, 1974)

Originally released on the Atra label back in 1974, I honestly had to check the record to make sure I didn’t accidentally slip a Sun Araw record on here when I first heard “Hunting”. It’s got that deep, midnight dub-funk thing going on, as well as Augustus Pablo’s melodica that, tellingly, predates Mr. Stallones by more than 30-years. That being said, Hudson, affectionately know as the “Dark Prince of Reggae”, doesn’t stay in that one mode; rather, he kind of jumps all over the map to sunshiney, slow burning roots reggae (“Flesh Of My Skin”, “Blood Of My Blood”), smoke-filled midnight jams (“Blackest Night”), a silky yet strangely apathetic black power anthem (“Fight Your Revolution”), R&B-influenced slow-jam reggae (“Testing of My Faith”) – and that’s just side A. While this could really be a total confounding mess, the thread of restlessness, both lyrically and sonically, is understandable and often thrilling. A real winner here.

Magnum – Back To Earth EP (Jet, 2×7”, 1982)

Found this intriguing double 7” in a small little hole in the wall called Vinyl Revolution (LOL) in Monterey, CA. Inspired by my whimsical, impluse choices earlier in the week at the vaunted Aquarius Records (see: Horseback, Slough Feg herein) and the faintly metal cover art, I knew that this was an iffy proposition that could kinda turn out to be bad-good in a way. Whatever $8 bucks, right? Well, this is exactly what was wrong with the 80s in a nutshell. Terrible, postured hard rock with “big moves” and lyrics probably about dragons and other shit that virgins sing about (I didn’t pay attention). Corny ass, melodramatic keyboards are perfumed all over this hunk of garbage making them a lock for the next Journey if only they hadn’t missed the “good” pop song part. Boiled down: here’s 15 minutes you’ll never get back.

Oneida – Absolute II (Brah, CD, 2011)

It’s no small task what Oneida does on each record of pounding, mercurial krautrock-indebted psych rock. Many know them for their marathon, sometimes 10-hour shows. So a triptych of releases that total 5 CDs/LPs called, simply, Thank Your Parents? Well, yeah – this is band that can do that.

The two precursors to Absolute II definitely set the scene here. Preteen Weaponry doesn’t take long to find it’s groove early and often; similarly, Rated O (probably my favorite of the 3), goes completely full-throttle for nearly to 2 hours, particularly killing it on the second disc. So, it makes sense that Absolute II is the sort-of “come down”, featuring no drums, no (discernable) lyric-based vocals, slow, tense and monolithic builds, and, occasionally, a sense of placid ease. The cosmic is still at play here, with plenty of buzzing organ and otherworldly synth to go around, while bass percolates and drones underneath. As a standalone, it doesn’t work great, but together it’s just another side of the wonder that is Oneida: deceptively complex, while subsisting on core elements and never boring – even over the three and a half hours in the Thank Your Parents trilogy.

Pink Reason – Shit In The Garden (Siltbreeze, LP, 2011)

Last heard on Cleaning The Mirror way back in 2007, the follow up from Kevin Failure and colleagues enters a very different “scene” than before. At the time that Cleaning was released, there wasn’t much like the bruised noise rock/folk of Pink Reason. And now? It’s like everywhere you turn some slightly morbid, isolated home recorder has released their outsider opus. With Shit In The Garden the Pink Reason sound takes a very decided and justifiable step in a direction away from the crowds: still somewhat miserable, but more optimistic overall. The core sound, that stretched-out, slow-building noise rock and glassy-eyed bedroom folk is intact, but with some decidedly “pop” moments. I mean, it’s possible you could play a couple of these tracks for a girl. Take “I Just Leave” where there’s a very Vertical Slit/Joy Division vibe or “Sixteen Years” which feels like a missing Loaded-era VU song. Overall, it’s a smart move for Failure to not try to recapture passed victories, and instead redirect the course. When you’re poking at your scars Cleaning the Mirror will always be there, but for all those other times, you can put this on.

Slough Feg – The Animal Spirits (Profound Lore, CD, 2010)

So it appears I’m a bit of a hesher these days. This one an impulse buy from the excellent Aquarius Records, who deserved (and continue to earn) my money more than anyone for introducing me to the long running Mike Scalzi-helmed San Francisco band. To be frank, I really, really like this record and I’ve listened to it way too much over the last month. It’s basically a crustier Iron Maiden record with more than a bit of Thin Lizzy influence, maybe a little more punk than either and kind of coming off almost like a more traditional, non-prog version of The Fucking Champs. Most importantly, The Animal Spirits just totally shreds and is totally fucking triumphant. I can’t really poke holes in that logic, so: highly recommended.

Ween – The Pod (Chocodog, 2xLP, 2009; orig: Shimmy Disc, 1991)

Though it’s simple to really dislike the people that listen to Ween, it’s hard to deny that they’re one of the best and most easily lovable bands ever. It’s that weird Deadhead effect, where everyone that’s associated with the band is either just a dopey drughead or someone with no common sense or personal understanding – which then makes the band undesirable. But, admittedly, it makes sense: everyone just wants a piece of the fun.

I’d say that The Pod is their best, but I know that the next time I listen to The Mollusk that I’d be saying the same damn thing. So, rather than repeat myself, let’s just say that The Pod is essential: fun, all over the fucking place, totally zonked out, and near perfect over A LOT of tracks. It’s a crucial document of outsider rock that dips into just about every subgenre while clearly showing the songwriting chops that would blossom into more “traditional”, studio-based music later on (“Right to the Ways and the Rules of the World” is a dead ringer for something off The Mollusk, if you’re looking). Here, everything’s super raw, screwed down, and totally insane. I mean, I’m really debating considering that “Pollo Asado”, a track in which a Mexican order is read over and over, might be better than 90% of the Beatles catalog. Why? I dunno, mang, because it’s just unwavering genius. Fuck it: pass the Scotchgard.

Gang Gang Dance – Eye Contact (4AD, Digital, 2011)

Another group continuing the now likely progression from agitated, experimental art-rock to scrubbed, synth-focused art-pop (see: Animal Collective, Ariel Pink). Eye Contact is a logical step from Saint Dymphna although not as big a jump as God’s Money to Saint Dymphna, bringing their sound ever closer to the dance floor. While it takes a while for ‘em to get cooking on “Glass Jar”, once they do, their intentions are clear – to create a global pop fusion. Eastern, Carribean, African, and Middle-Eastern melody and rhythm all feature prominently here, but seamlessly rather than as an obligatory head nod. Sure, you’d be able to call this “world music”, but you’d be referencing a memory of genre/cultural music. Everyone’s borrowing from everyone else now, and that’s fine. Instead, really, Eye Contact just proves that Gang Gang Dance were a band with global intentions and capital-P Pop aspirations, maybe not that surprisingly. They’ve shown us that, with Eye Contact and Saint Dymphna, they too can bring the gallery to the dance floor. After this we’ll see if they can draw the crowds.

Girls – Broken Dreams Club (True Panther, 12”, 2010)

I initially tried convincing myself that I didn’t like this band, but it’s just not gonna work. Despite the vocals sounding like Christopher Owens is gonna swallow his throat, the AOR poptones here just sit easy with me. The rough edges that were somewhat present on Album are smoothed out here, for the band’s first studio recording that’s a real white-linen, ‘70s-esque mellow treat. Heavier orchestration is present throughout, but it’s not so overdone that it fights against the song for your attention. Girls are best when they’re at their dreamiest and “Carolina” fits that bill perfectly – a sunny number that recalls a Pink Floyd song that suddenly turns into some Elephant 6 offshoot.

The Mantles – Raspberry Thighs (SDZ, 7”, 2011)

The Mantles’ self-titled Siltbreeze debut pretty much never left my turntable for a solid 3-month period – I wanted nothing more then their crunchy, distant psych-pop. And, from the sound of this new single, their best stuff may still lie ahead of us. “Raspberry Thighs” is undoubtedly their best track yet, a sunshiney number that screams West Coast psych rock at me. It chugs along like some of VU’s Loaded, only with a little more Byrds or Dead influence, and good lord: that guitar hook! “Roman Hat” on the flip, while still a midday tune, is a bit darker, sounding like there’s a heavy Flying Nun influence. It’s a little more sinister and buzzy and those guitar squalls could’ve probably gone another 10 minutes, to be honest. Another really impressive addition to a great catalogue – get it while you can.

Torche – Meanderthal Demos (Amnesian, 10”, 2011)

Yeah, this is totally for-collectors-only. I’m generally against this type of record practice as I think even the concept of “bonus tracks” is out of fucking control. How many recent releases have, like, 4 different editions when they’re first released, with multiple versions of OK songs? That being said, Torche’s Meanderthal was an incredible, triumphant sludge rock record and a bit shorter than most modern releases desperately in need of an editor, making my personal thirst for more material greater. Yes, I’m justifying. That being said, the rawness of the versions here are good at shedding light that this is maybe a little more punk than I originally thought. And, holy smokes, I could probably hear about 50 different versions of “Grenades” or “Across the Sheilds”. That being said, fans only, unnecessary edition of 1,000.

Scott Tuma/The Brothers Pus – Peeper/Love Songs Loud & Lonely (Bathetic, CS, 2010)

I’ll be the one to express willful ignorance when it comes to Souled American, having really just scratched the surface by listening to Around the Horn once or twice, each time leaving me pretty nonplussed. From the looks of it, Tuma has taken a few steps away from the straightforward alt-country songwriting of his former group, instead opting for pretty, ambient pieces here on the Peeper side (also featuring Mike Weis and James Becker). Folk and country do make some appearances, but in yawning, drifting forms which are loosely plucked and arranged (“True History”, “Bells Well”), reminding me of an American Leyland Kirby. Other times (“Free Dirt”), organic, bowed drones, similar to the heavy fog of Pelt, drift through while still retaining that sleepy-eyed American primitive feel.

There’s limited information about the players on the tape, but it appears Side B (Love Songs Loud & Lonely) features a different group than those that played on Peeper. According to the liner notes, it’s The Brothers Pus, or Johnny Kember and James Provencher teaming up with Scott Tuma – ‘least I think that’s what’s doing here. Either way, the feel is certainly more sinister than Peeper’s pastoral drone at first, introducing an unearthly, billowing drone that threatens to chew up all memory of side A and make your Godspeed You Black Emperor records seem obsolete. However – and this appears to be Tuma’s raison d’être – that ominous black cloud gives way to slowly paced double bass, plucked banjo and guitar, like the worst of the storm has passed. Only that speaker-swallowing, heavy cloud returns time and again, blasting any bucolic warmth from memory, making it an uncomfortable and incredibly captivating listen until they gracefully spit you out to slow-moving, rolling bluegrass, giving you time to collect your thoughts and breath, if either can be caught.

So, I guess the bottom line is this: if this tape is anything like the Souled American catalogue, it looks like I’ve got some history to brush up on. Seek this out, it’s very worth it, or at least listen to Love Songs Loud & Lonely here (track 4).

Tyler, The Creator – Goblin (XL, Digital, 2011)

This whole Odd Future thing, at this point, although thankfully dissipating, has basically become one long meta commentary on artist vs. press, lyrics vs. intent, PR vs. artistry, personal vs. private. Dude’s talented, no question, and Goblin makes that clear – the music here is cool and pretty inventive, the rapping OK. He’s also a total fucking asshole, if you choose to believe his look-at-me lyric sheet or the millions of tabloid-style garbage articles that’ve been drecked up recently. So, yeah, Goblin: not really fun to listen to, laughable in its cheap and worthless provocation, and totally confused. No thanks.

Weedeater – Jason, the Dragon (Southern Lord, LP, 2011)

Ah yes, another satisfying plate of Weedeater’s country-fried doom boogie. Two things get me psyched on this band: (1) it’s from the fuzzy mind of a bunch of dudes that seem to have a pretty good sense of humor (sample lyric: “you smell like fuck”), and (2) world-famous cardsharp/foodie blogger Steve Albini is manning the boards here again. Albini’s uncanny abilities were made for this band, with the live room sound making the three piece sound enormous while the band cooks up a magical combination of ZZ Top and Black Sabbath with a bit more of metal’s past mixed in to give it some bite. As a proper listening experience, Jason, The Dragon is super entertaining, with some pretty ridiculous moments that make Weedeater kind of come off like they’re trying to be metal’s Ween (“Palms and Opium”, opener “The Great Unfurling”) – honestly, a good look and a pretty great stance against metal’s self-serious posture. But, importantly, more often than not, they’re focused on walking that fine line of loose groove and drilling a single riff into submission. And that’s what always keeps me coming back.

Winter – Into Darkness (Southern Lord, LP, 2011; r: Future Shock, 1990)

Total impulse buy thanks to the pretty br00tal looking cover and band name. Southern Lord has been doing a decent job of reissuing some of doom metal’s most overlooked records (Saint Vitus’ IV, for example) and Into Darkness is no exception, really. This group straddles that late 80s line of hardcore dudes (formerly of Doomsday and Meltdown, if that means something to you) going super dark and sloooow (see also: Flag, Black). The recording is pretty of its time, with big, compressed, meaty drums and a frustratingly muddy, low-end mix that smears guitar, bass and keyboards into one big black cloud that makes my speaker cones tremble. Still, the point comes across: hardcore had run its course at this point, leaving the only logical move to slow shit down and bludgeon the listener with a sackful of heavy-as-fuck riffs c/o Black Sabbath. Some solid, heavy moves here despite the muddiness, as it’s still pretty interesting to listen back and see how today’s doom metal, minus some innovators, still has not evolved Winter’s (and others!) glacial formula developed 20+ years ago, instead feeling justified in simply saturating the market the same two ideas.

Into Darkness also comes with a fanzine-type booklet which reprints some of their show fliers and gives a little background hailing them as misunderstood geniuses. Seriously, didn’t you know, according to all the liner notes of all deluxe editions, that all non-trend hoppers were brilliant? I digress – either way, Southern Lord gives us something pretty nice to look at while weathering the guttural churn.

High Wolf – Étoile 3030

Like a good portion of the Not Not Fun cadre, High Wolf compositions just kind of rise from the ether, unexpected and sublime. It’s the same humid, fertile ground that a guy like Sun Araw tills, but High Wolf’s game is that of a psychedelic, sci-fi soundtrack, warped and free-floating rather than Sun Araw’s yawning jungle dub. However, where soundtracks sometimes lack playability because of their reliance on images, Étoile 3030 slow-builds these fluffy compositions in a way that replaces the need for visual stimulation (although this probably provides a great soundtrack to an episode of Planet Earth). As a stopgap release between Ascension and the upcoming Holy Mountain LP, it’s really more than you can ask for.

Pedro Magina – Nineteen Hundered and Eighty Five (Not Not Fun, CS, 2011)

If there is an official underground tape release of 2011, this is it. Magina is playing what essentially amounts to solo analog synth — breathy at moments, intense at others, arpeggiated often, and very of the times right now. Between Oneohtrix Point Never, Arp, Emeralds, Pulse Emitter and others, I have a sneaking suspicion there may be more records cut in this specific genre than there are people interested in them in the first place. Nineteen Hundered is pretty good, but clearly not really breaking new ground. Aside from the usual suspects (Harald Grosskopf, Harmonia, etc.), I’d say that Harold Faltermeyer, John Carpenter and Wang Chung (the To Live and Die in L.A. soundtrack, specifically) had a pretty big influence here, as this would ideally soundtrack the staring-out-over-a-hazy-skyline scene in any number of gritty, poorly made b-movies from the ‘80s. I have to admit, it’s super enjoyable to listen to, yes; but, from a critical perspective, it’ll be interesting to see where Magina takes it from here and if he can find a more personal, unique angle.

J Mascis – Several Shades of Why (Sub Pop, LP, 2011)

Now that J’s into his fourth decade of production without really reinventing his particular wheel, you’ve probably make your mind up as to whether your gonna like Several Shades of Why. Dinosaur is just that band for me – always there when I needed it, always perfect when you need ‘em to be. They’ve never really been anything other than a rock band. But, you know what? They’re a really good one.

So, Several Shades of Why is J just sitting down with an acoustic and inviting some friends over. Sure, this has the potential to be an up-your-own-ass, bland disaster. In fact, for some that might already be written all over this one for ‘em, without even hearing a note. But for those of us slowly getting older and domesticated, this is kind of exactly what I want to hear on a Sunday afternoon. No rough edges, just J’s stoned croon over some sunbeam guitar and good vibes, brah. If you got a problem with that, you probably have more energy than me at the end of the day. And perspective tells me that you’re using that energy in the wrong way.

Dan Melchior – Assemblage Blues (Siltbreeze, LP, 2011)

Bedroom psych can be great when it’s done well, really. No doubt, there’s been an absolute proliferation of this stuff recently making it super exhausting for so many listeners. I have Garageband too – we don’t need to listen to some dude that half-wrote some songs and messed with the EQ to make them sound mysterious. Worse, we don’t need some shitty blogger reiterating the press release to a group of slack jawed dopes who do anything they’re told. No, what we really need is something like Assemblage Blues, a Fall-indebted, experimental-leaning set of post-garage and dark psych folk. Melchior’s not one to be fussy with limiting his releases, but without practice and, yes, some form of failure, you’re not going to be able to reach outside of worn-down tropes to create something as unique sounding as Assemblage Blues. It’s a total fried dream here, cloudy in the right spots but crystal clear in terms of what you’re actually listening to (instruments, voice). Which: kind of a relief, to be honest.

Milk Music – Beyond Living (Self-released, 12”, 2011)

Before that J Mascis album, I joked that this might be the best Dinosaur Jr. record to come out this year. Which: the way things are going with that band Yuck and other ‘90s revivalists, it may not really be to much of a stretch. Regardless, I think it’s pretty safe to say this one is better than ‘em all and maybe even Several Shades of Why (albeit, this has a very different function than that LP’s laid back inconsequence). Milk Music hail from the very fertile Olympia, WA scene that seems intent on recapturing some of the grungier, more triumphant indie rock of the late ‘80s/early ‘90s, leaving behind today’s distant, postured detachment in favor of pummeling, fun rock music. In particular, I’m hearing Hüsker Dü, Dinosaur, Mission of Burma, and some Sonic Youth. Careful though: Milk Music is not a novelty act like some of those other fools playing dress-up. Rather, like city-mates Broken Water, they’ve taken the big task of breathing fresh life into music that is, at its core, really fucking great. Pumped to have it back.

Peaking Lights – 936 (Not Not Fun, LP, 2011)

Dub always has me on edge, ‘cause my first thought is always that there are countless dweebs using internet handles like OneLove420 or JAHnuggs proclaiming its genius on Facebook feeds daily. ‘Course, they’re talking about, like, Slightly Stoopid’s remix of Badfish or someshit, but the feeling stands that 90% of dub compilations or releases are built for the nerds that stare at the iTunes visualizer while listening to music. Really, for me, dub’s noncommittal nature of simply adding wacky shit to reggae: a big eh.

936 walks that line between using dub textures (echo, delay, etc.) and becoming a full-blown dub band very delicately. Their debut record on Night People, Imaginary Falcons, had a muted dub vibe, but favored faded, lazy, soft-focus melody that dissipated like smoke over the silly sci-fi shit. With 936, their first for the Not Not Fun label, things are a bit more explicit and direct. The dub textures are certainly heavier, but so is everything else – it’s a more traditional, “better sounding” recording. With that better recording, the song and not the feeling, had to become the rather direct focus here, with textures added in to supplement the flow, not completely redirect focus. Thankfully, that’s the case with a headier, darker, song-based vibe prevailing, keeping 936 from slipping into kitsch/rastahat territory.

Pulse Emitter – Meditative Music 4 (Expansive, CDr, 2010)

I guess there’s not much to this one, really. New age music has really exploded over the past year, but I guess Darly Groetsch here was a bit ahead of the curve releasing this series of Mediative Music as far back as 2007. Nothing here really jumps out at the listener at all, but it’s not really supposed to if we’re really reading into the title. Rather, it’s pleasant synth washes and drones, patiently played. As far as music functioning as furniture goes this is a nice piece?

Six Organs of Admittance – Asleep On the Floodplain (Drag City, LP, 2011)

There’s a number of solo moments on Asleep On The Floodplain that made me think of Ben Chasny’s true intent with his Six Organs project at this point. For the past few outings, things have gotten relatively orchestrated, nearly to the point where it’s unnecessarily baroque. To me, Chasny’s Holy Mountain output remains his best, particularly Dark Noontide – a massive LP and high-water mark. However, here, the orchestration is sparse and space plays a huge role, allowing these meditations to breathe fully and notes to ring out destroying the listener. Even the artwork is simplified and direct.

Asleep comes to terms with the fact that the overzealous Drag City output has been a bit crowded thus far. It’s telling that there’s a quote from Chasny addressing Jack Rose in the liner notes. Says, “Missing you Dr. Ragtime. Now who will call bullshit on the bullshitters?” With Asleep, Chasny is in a way stepping into that role himself and refining his scope. It’s almost as the need was to strip everything away to near Roseian levels, and focus on the emotional weight without making the composition soggy with perfumed arrangements. He’s wildly succeeded here in doing just that.

V/A – Those Shocking Shaking Days (Now-Again, 3xLP, 2011)

A compilation billing itself as “Idonesian Hard, Psychedelic, Progressive Rock and Funk: 1970-1978” and with a cover like that? I feel like this was made with me in mind. It’s exactly what you’d expect and probably even better than I could have imagined, alternating between Sabbath-esque burners, bleary psych, and James Brown-influenced funk. A track like Shark Move’s (years ahead in the band name game, these guys!) “Evil War” epitomizes everything that early ‘70s rock should sound like: fuzzy guitar, tom heavy and busy drumming, low-slung funk bass, a reedy organ, and flower-power tuned to a minor, funky key. Perfect.

Violent Students – Party Addiction (Richie/Testostertunes, 12”, 2011)

The final document of Philadelphia (is that Pedro Feliz on the cover?!) sludge/hardcore band Violent Students is a big black, oily smudge of free rock: one-sided of course cause they’re not hanging around. I don’t really know much about who played here other than that Lea Cho (of spectral journeyists Blues Control) fills in for original guitarist Jim Winters (of Earth Crisis/Conviction) and Max Milgram (of AKA Music/Waterly Love stardom) leads the charge, on swallowed up, delay-pocked vocals. Based on principles, I want to say this sounds like Rusted Shut, and I guess it does at moments (especially the Hot Sex 12”), but it’s less direct. I keep on thinking a more apt comparison is the fucked-up blob in Creepshow 2, except rather than going after sexy coeds, Violent Students continually reach up and swallow any semblance of traditional, linear (read: boring) hardcore into a deranged psychedelic k-hole. This is a live record, but you probably wouldn’t be able to tell, so, helpfully, some tasteful Casio keyboard applause is dubbed in, poking fun at you for not having your shit together and making the show in the first place. An older OOP Violent Students release on Testostertunes, “A Handy Magician”, sits on the flip, where things eventually get to sounding like a pervert playing billious, hormonal krautrock. America, vote wisely with your dollar here.

The Weeknd – House of Balloons (No label, Digital, 2011)

So, yeah, House of Balloons is getting lumped in with stuff new-R&B figureheads Frank Ocean and How to Dress Well. There do appear to be similarities between the three projects – namely, the modern-pop and R&B referencing – but they’re all different enough that the somewhat loose generalizations seem a little inappropriate. The Weeknd are pretty clearly pulling from and influenced by modern pop music (specifically things like Britney’s robotic, nihilistic Blackout), but as seen through the Second Summer of Love. Only instead of playful raves, House of Balloons kind of make it seem like the MDMA has run out and the dopamine receptors are damaged beyond repair – the only way to recoup is to fall deeper in the bleakness. It’s a dark record for sure, full of those cold drug references, hollow synth, echo laced samples, and androgynous, dead-eyed vocals which make it pretty interesting. That’s not to say that this hasn’t been done before, but a fresh perspective on the bleakness of solipsism goes a long way, for sure.

Parson Sound – Parson Sound (Subliminal Sounds, 3xLP, 2010)

If you needed another reason to think that 1967 was kind of a cool year, throw these Swedes on that pile. Careful, though – they deserve a spot right at the top. Friends of Terry Riley (a casual, yet important reference point), these forward-thinking and krautrock-predating thinkers took the idea of groove, repetition and freedom, and hammered the shit out of that nail. This is straight head music: psychedelia, ecstatic jazz, space rock, drone, minimalism all wonderfully, seamlessly coexisting and shutting the pissing contest of “who did that first?” off right at the source. See, it certainly doesn’t matter when you hear something containing careers in moments, drones bigger than the sky is wide, and a feast of raw, unencumbered, perfectly permeable sound. Believe me, you’ll be sitting there at some point wondering if these platters are playing you. They are. You are. Totally essential.

Vernon Wray – Wasted (Sebastian Speaks, LP, 2011)

Where brother Link brought the heat more often than not, seems Vernon Wray might have been something of the thinker, or at least stoner, of the clan. While he cut his teeth in his bro’s band, the time comes to step out from the shadows – for Vernon this meant stumbling into the dusty Arizona sunlight and writing a really great, downtrodden country record. Admittedly a Kris Kristofferson fan and compatriot, this LP walks that same sundazed, wobbly country pop lane that If I Could Only Remember My Name, Pacific Ocean Blue and Oar stumbled down – maybe not so much in sound, but in the kind of post-hippie, where the hell do we go from here ‘70s comedown. In this case, it means faded, lived-in country songs dappled with fuzz guitar here and there, and something that’s pretty perfect for staring deep into nothing on Saturday morning. While Vernon passed in 1979 – presumably from living hard, due to the title – this totem speaks well to his legacy and that of the ‘70s: that is, we still haven’t figured it out what the hell we’re supposed to be doing.

Acid Mothers Temple And The Cosmic Inferno – Starless And Bible Black Sabbath (Alien8, Digital, 2006)

Though I find it hard to listen to AMT much these days, partially due to the incessant output, partially due to changing tastes, and partially due to the general marketplace glut of this type of music, but occasionally I get the pang to just go and get out there, man. That and I needed to burn through the last of my eMusic credits before canceling my account, and, well, this just kind of popped up as a nice option. Starless starts out with the title track and one of the better riffs I’ve ever heard AMT possess, maybe on par with that monolithic riff that comes half way in on Electic Heavyland’s “Atomic Rotary Grinding God” (the first time I heard that — WOAH). It’s equal parts doomy and groovy, certainly owing to the album title’s second half. After that, it’s what you’d expect from a 2-track album containing (although is he ever really?) Kawabata Makoto – riff, solos, outer space. There are a few changes in perspective here and there (especially the surprisingly punk “Woman From A Hell”), but for the most part it’s just you playing the Maxwell guy to one of AMT’s most listenable offerings: hold on for dear life, if you can handle it. Or, you know, if you’re in the mood to do so.

Demdike Stare – Tryptich (Modern Love, 3xCD, 2011)

By now you’ve probably heard the story for the story of Demdike Stare, an alliance of a DJ/producer in Miles Whittaker and Finders Keepers impersario/world-renown crate digger Sean Canty. Finders Keepers has made a pretty impressive impact to date, reissuing some of the most obscure jazz/soul/psychedelic including two of recent favorites, the Stone O.S.T. and Pomegranates, a compilation of some supremely funky Persian/Iranian music.

To me, Demdike Stare comes from a place that originated back with Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works and a few other dark, heady few. But Aphex Twin’s eerie, simple, dark and resonating melodies, all grounded by drone, seem to be the best touchpoint here, although in reference, not recapitulation. Rather, these compositions (which they most certainly are) stretch out bleakly yet somehow comfortably. Tryptych has worked well for me as background music, but it’s easy enough to get lost in when your mind in focused. Only then can you truly see how staggering the juxtaposition present here: the universal sound of a blackened drone can just emotionally charge repurposed samples.

Frank Ocean – Nostalgia/Ultra (No Label, Digital, 2011)

I know that I’m probably a sucker for this — there’s certainly some more critically acceptable stuff out there — but Nostalgia/Ultra is some supremely listenable, DIY R&B that sounds polished and damn great for a mixtape. While his Odd Future comrades are known to be somewhat heart-on-sleeve yet shielded with misogyny and violence, Mr. Ocean (no relation to Billy, natch) just goes for the heart and, uh, groin. I have an unfortunate proclivity for some of the soft-rock samples here (like Coldplay), but they’re reimagined enough so it doesn’t feel like I’m jamming vanilla soft serve into my earhole. And “Hotel California” as a backing track? The balls on this guy.

I’ve tried to describe this project, but it never seems to be appropriate. Free-acid-folk? Bleary-eyed psych? Mikami Kan on a downer trip? Either way, the 6 song LP is a hell of a package, mainly featuring Shinsuke Michishita in solo-electric mode, but on two tracks as a “full-band” with Ikuro Takahashi.

Tony Vogdes, proprietor of the Tequila Sunrise label and store, told me this release totally made sense on his label, as he was worried that he’d get too pigeonholed in the freak-folk, New Weird whatever world without something more full-band based. I’d say he was able to realign people’s perceptions with the title track alone – a creaky, cascading wall of guitar fuzz with a texture similar to the consistency of a drip painting. Really excellent.