Tabs Out | Various Artists – The Great Krell Machine, Volume One
5.1.19 by Ryan Masteller

I read this book, you guys. At least I think I did. Actually wait – maybe I didn’t, but that cover certainly looks familiar. I’m certainly no stranger to 1960s sci-fi, and the cover of “The Great Krell Machine, Volume One” looks like something I DEFINITELY would have read at some point. I’m just drawn to that look, because you know just what kind of vibe is going to be going on within those pages. It’s comforting and exciting at the same time, and there’s that retrofuturistic nostalgia factor that is simply unignorable. Actually, my interest is piqued – I’m going to start reading this book right now.
What the … This isn’t a book! It’s a cassette tape. Well I’ll be darned … It looks amazing. If it sounds half as good as it looks, we’ll be in really good shape. And what’s this? It’s a Flag Day Recordings compilation? That makes it even BETTER. I don’t know about you, but the raft of quality releases that Flag Day has dropped rivals the output of Isaac Asimov. OK, maybe that’s too far. But we’re in good hands, trust me!
To “The Great Krell Machine”: the tape takes its name from the 1956 film “Forbidden Planet,” which I’ll not delve too deeply into here, because you can look it up. Basically, it is a machine of immense power created by the extinct Krell race discovered by spacecraft crash survivor Dr. Morbius on the titular planet. You can imagine, especially in 1956, its enormity, its vast arrays of light, its analog ambience. It was a time not long before the golden age of Sputniks and space odysseys, when the tactility of control rooms and the blinking lights of consoles and displays captured the imaginations of every human being.
“The Great Krell Machine, Volume One” takes us right back to that time, its nine contributors tapping in fully to the hands-on science of early discovery. They twiddle knobs and flip switches, and it all sounds like someone set up a microphone in a physics laboratory, capturing its ambience. Sure, there are bleeps and bloops, but that’s all part of the immersive experience, getting really deep into the vibe of new scientific frontiers and pristine utopian fantasies. It’s an environment in which I’d like to spend a whole heckuva lot of time.
This cassette came out in an edition of 70 for last year’s Cassette Store Day. Still available!
Tracklist:
Francisco Meirino
Geoff Wilt
PraxisCat
Benjamin Mauch
Guillermo Pizarro
Walker Farrell
Death Lessons
cloning
Todd Barton
Tabs Out | New Batch – Patient Sounds
4.30.19 by Ryan Masteller

Patient Sounds’ releases often capture that time at the tail end of winter when the cold is still sort of firmly holding on but the thaw is right around the corner. They evoke the bleary-eyed malaise of a people and a city – Chicago, in this case – sick to death of that prognosticating groundhog Punxsutawney Phil, who, even when he’s got the ol’ early spring forecast in his book (I forget if that’s because he saw his shadow or because he didn’t see his shadow – my bleary-eyed malaise has rendered me useless in the research department), can’t seem to get Chicago’s weather pattern quite right. We here in warmer, more southern climes start to stretch and breathe a little. Chicagoans hunker deeper into their coats.
But the “private press record label and book publisher” soldiers on (pun definitely intended), and because of the seasonal factors and weather characteristics of that windiest of cities, Patient Sounds is in the perfect position to reflect what everybody’s feeling right back at them. How does it make you feel? It should feel like a warm, fuzzy blanket, all the time. Let’s see how these new joints do.
CELER – VAMPS
Tokyo-based Will Long may hold the record for most releases ever by an artist. Seriously. The hyperlinked “Celer” just up there goes to his Bandcamp page, and you may spend the next month, month and a half or so combing through it. Maybe longer. Long certainly gets the “patient” thing, so it makes sense for him to finally link his talents to PS. “Vamps,” of course, sounds anything but like what the title implies, as there are no vampires to be found at all in these two sidelong pieces. But oh! The dictionary includes another definition, a verb meaning “to repeat a short, simple passage of music.” This makes more sense, as the quiet piano figures move slowly, ghostlike, gently drifting like snowflakes on the breeze. So even though Will Long’s on the other side of the bloody planet, he’s still able to find that gentleness, that peacefulness that a cold winter’s night can bring, if, of course, you’re not out in it. Imagine that – someone from a faraway place connecting through music to us waaay over here. People aren’t so different after all, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
A CRUSHED ROSE – SOMEONE IS LOOKING OUT FOR US
Alisa Rodriguez also observes the snowflakes falling on the sleeve of her coat, which may not surprise you when you consider that Milwaukee, Wisconsin, is her home. Milwaukee is no stranger to the types of polar vortices that also hit Chicago, and in the dead of winter, you really shouldn’t be outside there for longer than five minutes (your eyeballs will freeze). You also can’t play guitar in winter gloves, so Alisa, who moonlights as dream pop project Apollo Vermouth, took solely to software when making “Someone Is Looking Out for Us.” She seems to have gotten the hang of it, as she coaxes dreams of spring from the slowly slushing snow piles. Even on the minutely propulsive “Ocean Itself” she finds hope in the mist and the murk, desperately trying to shake the cobwebs and the blues and emerge into a warmer sunbeam. It’s all hope in the end though – moving forward, finding your way, stretching toward dawn. The last track here’s called “Unconditional Love,” after all! How’s that for breaking out of a slump?
