Reece Cox – Broca’s Talking Candle 9.5.17 by Ryan Masteller
“Broca’s Talking Candle” is a handy artifact in Final Fantasy IX that you can use while searching for lost treasure with your Chocobo… Wait, is that right? That’s not right. Sure, it SOUNDS like something straight out of FFIX, but “Broca’s Talking Candle” is actually a recording made by Reece Cox at an exhibition where he was surrounded by sculptures. And the resulting sounds were released on cassette tape on ARs Media. That’s why you’re reading about it right here! It’s a tape, not a magic candle! I’m such an idiot.
Broca – there’s a lot to unpack here, but Broca’s Area is “responsible for the formulation of verbal communication,” and it is there that Phineas Gage got himself impaled with a railroad spike sometime in the year of our Lord 1848. He didn’t die, but the accident resulted in “Broca’s aphasia,” a condition whereby sufferers “can comprehend incoming verbal communication but cannot formulate verbal language themselves.” Yowza! So basically, if I applied this to myself, it would be like me listening to Reece Cox’s “Broca’s Talking Candle” and not being able to write anything coherent about it, or at all. (Sort of like what’s happening right now.) But wait, there’s more! The sculptures that Reece Cox was surrounded by at the exhibition, held at the MAW Gallery, 56 Henry St. SE, New York, NY, in the summer of sixteen, reflect the disorder. I wasn’t there, you guys – I can’t account for any of it. I’ll buy into it though.
Cox sure captures the feeling of this condition, of sound entering and being understood but without the ability to reciprocate. There’s uncertainty, tension, even dread at not being able to understand Broca’s aphasia or, with understanding, bear it. “The compositions were arranged using midi mapping technology to create sequence structures from the human voice. Each composition uses the same sequence through different routings of a modular synthesiser [sic], mimicking the distortion of information processing that takes place during the cognition of a person suffering Broca’s aphasia.” (I don’t even know why the hell I’m bothering to write something new about this – ARs Media’s done it for me!) So the question is, then, is Reece Cox recording these sounds to tape so that listeners can get an idea of what this condition feels like, in sound form? Or is the intention that only those with Broca’s aphasia can truly grasp “Broca’s Magic Candle?” Only one way to find out – jam a crayon up my nostril as far as it goes and see what happens! (Please do not try this.)
ARs05 comes on gorgeous heavy cardstock, the whole thing like a sepia photograph. Buy it or else!
Texas-based tape label Aural Canyon began life with the Benefit Compilation for Planned Parenthood, which, I mean, c’mon, at this point you either choose to help people or you’re out. Why would you not want everyone to have access to programs and services they need, regardless of what you think? I promise I’m not going to get all soapbox-y, so I’ll stop there, but kudos to Aural Canyon for the initial baby step in the right direction. Turns out that initial step pointed to an initial tape batch that’s also hell-bent on helping people of various configurations, so let’s give our attention to the REAL American heroes sloughing through the emotional muck instead of those abhorrent fatcats running the place.
I can’t say it enough – HELP PEOPLE. Whenever you can.
(Speaking of helping people – as Aural Canyon, and all artists involved in this batch, are Texas-based, we can’t help but consider those in need in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. Please visit the Red Cross page, or the page of your organization of choice, and lend a hand. They need all the assistance they can get.)
In huge, all-cap letters emblazoned across the label’s Bandcamp description you’ll find the following “mission statement,” I guess you’d call it: “DEEP AMBIENT / DRONE HAZING / SOUND BATHING.” I’d add to that “RECOVERY MUSIC,” and that’s not just because City of Dawn’s tape is called “Recovery II.” From what I gather, each of these tapes serves as a balm for its creator in some way, whether intentionally or not, and the “RECOVERY MUSIC” on each is an outward gift to listeners to use as their own therapeutic tool. So let’s heal ourselves with whatever can be found at the bottom of Aural Canyon, shall we?
CITY OF DAWN – RECOVERY II
Damien Duque of McAllen, Texas, records as City of Dawn, and “Recovery II” is his hymn to the autistic. Duque has autism himself, and over the years he’s used music as a release for the anxiety and depression that accompany the condition. But this, here, is a celebration; so celebrate life with autism, because, in the words of Duque himself, “Autism is not a disability, it’s a different ability! Autism is not a disease, so do not try to cure us. Please try to understand us.” It’s easy grab on to what City of Dawn is working with here, as guitars, synthesizers, and found sound function as a euphonic bed to rest on; you can join Duque in the euphoria and immerse yourself in and become part of this vision. It’s like Sigur Rós lite, if we only had the quiet moments without the occasional bombast. Recovery II is an unexpected treasure.
VISJØNER– SELF-TITLED
Minimal techno and IDM is the name of the game for euphoric clickmeister Robert Thompson, aka Visjøner (aka, in other circles, Mojave Triangles, Quartz Safari, and Paa Annandalli, depending on what day of the week it happens to be, probably), and you may find that I use a variation of “euphoria” for all four of these tapes. This one gets slapped with the tag because although it’s techno, and the beats are decidedly of the 4/4 variety (one could certainly crank the bass on this one to make an impression with their subwoofers on their tricked-out ride), the melodies and textures gleam like a galaxy swirling out into the cosmos. It’s the kind of music you can close your eyes to and just get transported, man, to a far-out, faraway place. Visjøner is the captain of your rocketship, and you can forget all your troubles, because your destination will have none of them – you can start over. Yeah, that’s a shiver of enthusiasm that just coursed through your body. Ride the wave.
TANNER GARZA & FUNERAL PARLOR – DARK DAYS
OK, so – Dark Days documents severe depression, and despite that heady topic, and the artists’ “unhealthy fascination with the macabre,” the tape is surprisingly accessible and welcoming. Melancholy, sure, but who/what isn’t these days? (See spittle-flinging rant above.) Garza and FP (aka Josh Doughty) swirl lovely synthesizers, gentle guitar, and sparse electronic rhythms together into a cloud of shoegaze-y ambient, all textures, all the time, “Better Daze under These Gray Skies” seemingly the centerpiece, the hopeful foretelling of, ahem, better days ahead. Till then the gloom envelops us, but we’re not alone – we are accompanied in our dull ache by the duo, and … is that a porn sample? It is a porn sample, on “Neon Flesh.” Huh. And … not out of place, which is equally weird. I guess sex can be therapeutic too, or at least the idea of an intimate relationship can be applied as a spiritual balm. I think, anyway. I’ve moved on, blissed out by this thing, an experience I’d never expected something called Dark Days to initiate. Euphoric? Damn right.
ADAM PACIONE / DEREK ROGERS – SPLIT
And here we come to the part of the program where we are fully healed and sent on our way, out into the world to spread the good news and great joy of the warming glow of Aural Canyon’s warming glow. Adam Pacione, dear man, you’ve done it. Thirty gall-dang minutes of the most gorgeous ambient drift this side of the aurora borealis, EUPHORIA IN EXCELCIS DEO. “Midnight Summer” is the exact opposite of an endless bummer, a heavenly presence smack in the middle of a MASH unit, doling out benevolent miracle after benevolent miracle. Derek Rogers, with “Sun and Sky, Mirrored” parts 1 through 3 keeps wheeling in gurneys of the afflicted, and he and Adam keep tossing those gurneys aside as the afflicted emerge fully healed. It’s no wonder – each side of this split is an example of a master at work, total drones washing equally over body and mind: aural convalescence. Keep it coming, you magnificent bastards you.
Phew. Each gorgeous tape comes in an edition of 50. Get on it.
Takahiro Mukai / Shoeb Ahmad – split 8.30.17 by Mike Haley
Allow me to channel my inner Suess for a moment to describe Tandem Tapes… If you couldn’t tell by their name, or the long list of releases that are exclusively splits, Tandem Tapes is a tape label that exclusively releases splits. That was fun. I promise not to do it again. Anyways, one of the latest splits out of Tandem’s Jakarta HQ pairs up Takahiro Mukai and Shoeb Ahmad in a long distance three-legged race, an ocean separating them (literally and metaphorically).
Takahiro Mukai‘s wormy synths recently discovered a fresh corpse in their garden, at least that is what I’m attributing their avid delight too. Barely shaded from a glistening sun, they chug-a-lug below a thin layer of soil, fluxing in shade. Bobbing their heads – or maybe tails? It’s hard to tell with worms. Do they even have “heads” or “tails??” I’d say no… I fear this is getting sidetracked – as I was saying, bobbing their whatevers, these slimy lil’ suckers pass by shady looking bugs and broken glass on their path to the body. This particular side of the cassette has three tracks, titled #311, #308, and #312, in that order. Through the entirety of those three tracks is a consistent vibe that is orderly and pleased; These synth worms are thrilled to be alive! They bubble with excitement, never letting it overflow into chaos. Single file lines have been formed and order/fun is being kept. This isn’t some going-out-of-business Best Buy in Florida. This is Takahiro Mukai. He knows how to control his worms, he feeds em right. That’s why they do it. That is where these hypnotic mandalas of blips and blaps come from.
Oh yeah, I Googled “worm anatomy.” Turns out they have gizzards.
From Osaka, Japan to Canberra, Australia. We can jump in a plane or a boat can sail, ya! Sorry, I promised to stop that. Shoeb Ahmad‘s side offers far less optimism than Takahiro Mukai’s saucy worms with their three-day weekend dances. Worms are immediately replaced by “Dragonfly,” an epic jaunt compacted into six minutes in which the elegiac vibrations of an acoustic guitar are drug across unfinished hard wood. A somber trek made awkward (in a good way) by a pesky, twitching loop, all staticy and in desperate need of a Swiffer Dust Cloth. There is an uneasiness deep in the sounds here. I’d imagine this track is how one would feel walking into the wrong funeral. The weird discomfort you’d feel upon not recognizing a single face in the room, including the corpse. Maybe it’s the same corpse that ended up in Mukai’s worm garden? At 11 minutes “Voigt” is a reflection on what just occurred. Here, the more bummer elements are blanketed by heated tones and desultory snaps, like a medicated recess from reality. It’s nice to get away, even for a moment.
Only 25 copies of this split were made, because Tandem does very small edition sizes. So with a fizzle, a nizzle, a dizzle flamp plamp. Please direct your web browser to a Band that is camp.
The Ant’lrd way is the way of continental drift, where masses slowly take form before stasis gives way movement, almost imperceptible at such a grand scale. I once likened Colin Blanton’s tunes to hurricane-sized atmospheric disturbances, visible from a great distance, slow-moving, but enormous and overwhelming. And even though “Cherubian” tackles the everyday – love, daydreams, houseplants, marimbas, “Zoned Hugs N’ Harmony” – it still manages to sound way bigger than maybe it is. Perhaps it’s because its sonics penetrate us like molecules to our most basic level, drifting in sunbeams and filling all space. It’s the fullness of this penetration that grants the music its size, as we perceive it as an unending part of everyday life. We should also remember to thank Odd Nosdam for his mastering work on this thing.
But Blanton’s the main attraction, the hero, neck deep in a buttload of releases but emerging to continue blazing his path of unparalleled ambient superiority. “Cherubian” is a fine addition to this collection, a pink masterpiece even (the tape is pink – wanna look at it some more?), loops and synths and samples moving through a vacuum before colliding and bursting into every color of the visible spectrum, maybe even some others. That’s what you want in an Ant’lrd release – an overwhelming multisensory experience – and “Cherubian” delivers as if it’s an entire heavenly host of its titular creatures descending upon humanity and proclaiming “Peace on Earth, good will toward men,” like good ol’ biblical doctor Luke. Or Linus! At any rate, it’s like I’m filled with some sort of light when I listen to it, and I’m huge, and I’m about to burst and become one with the universe – all this from a record containing a track called “Water the Houseplants”! Great trick, then, Mr. Blanton, for imbuing the everyday with such magic.
Moss Archive is a phenomenal label, and the hand-stamped edition of 100 is almost all gone!
Straight Crimes – Jams, With Microphone. 2017 8.28.17 by Jill Lloyd Flanagan
I’ve known Erin Allen since my old band toured the West Coast in the early 200o’s and ended up with a CD of his band Child Pornography, which included passport sized photos of all the band members and one of Anne Frank (the original, not the YouTube star). In High Castle, Sisterfucker, Work and countless others, he’s relentlessly played distressed sounding noise rock with a strong garage punk streak. He also is an accomplished painter and makes a lot of zines which feature his irreverent doodles, black humor and phrases clipped at random from pop culture.
Straight Crimes is Allen’s new duo with bassist Chani Hawthorne. The “Jams, With Microphone. 2017” tape starts out with a kind of bass and guitar slow motion slide up the neck of Allen as Hawthorne plays a descending stoner rock riff. When we have been sufficiently lulled by this, the 1, 2 of a drum machine’s exacting rhythm kicks in. The rhythmic pulsations chop the gnarled guitar feedback into a delirious texture. With the groove set by Hawthorne’s blues-inflected bass, the guitar drone begins to sound poppy. It’s a welcome surprise that this is the perfect vehicle for Allen’s voice. It’s the voice of an angel fallen from grace, while in some of his bands, it was unnaturally high and could have the thinness of a falsetto. But here, he’s found his perfect pitch and sounds like a 70’s rocker sinking into a swamp of feedback.
The guitar and electronics playing of Allen also has gotten to a masterful level of anti-technique. The feedback and electronic squall are painterly but in the way of the post-color-field painters of the 1970’s who applied gobs paint on the end of a 2 by 4 and dragged them across the canvas. A good example would be “Earth Mover” which has a nice interplay of bass and guitar before a wave of hissing static rushes in with a staccato beat as Allen intones “how could u? How could u?”
A great improvisation feels dictated by an outer/inner force. Thanks to the great musical chemistry between Allen and Hawthorne, the playing here has a strong intentionality to it. For me, a flaw in the cassette would have to be that the tracks are not as balanced between them as I would have liked. Here, Straight Crimes caves into the classic rock tradition of keeping the bass barely into audibility. Anyways it’s good to be kept off balance, something Erin Allen takes a sick pleasure in reminding us.
“Jams, With Microphone. 2017” was released in an edition of 100 copies by Fine Concepts. Grab a copy here.
Matt Wellins – Music for the Memphis Group 8.25.17 by Ryan Masteller
Matt Wellins is making it tough on us. Tough, that is, to separate audio from visual, sound from sight. And while I’m not suggesting it’s a bad thing – if you’ve read any review I’ve ever written, it’s more like I’m critiquing an aurora borealis or a fireworks display than a musical recording – I do want to make it very clear that to enjoy “Music For The Memphis Group” to its fullest, you’re going to have to do it while looking at something. Or, if you’re the type who likes to close their eyes and let their imagination run wild while they listen to records, go ahead, that’ll work too. Point is, what informs Wellins’s masterpiece the best is the data collected by your eyeballs, not your eardrums.
Obviously, if you’ve been paying attention to anything, this tape is a paean to the Memphis Group, a collective of Italian (and other) designers active from 1981 to 1987 who specialized in postmodern, Art Deco, Pop Art, and retrofuturistic furniture and other objects, often using plastic as a central material and utilizing bold (and multiple) colors. To apply the term ”kitsch” to this style is not far-fetched – a lot of it looks pretty crazy in hindsight, but it’s certainly finding itself in the midst of a resurgence, and if artistic expressions like those of Matt Wellins are the result, then this resurgence is welcome indeed. That’s not to say that Wellins’s music is “kitschy” – it’s too tightly controlled and forward-thinking to be saddled with such a mixed modifier – but it certainly evokes the style the Memphis Group was going for.
And there you have it – Wellins is a maestro of the MIDI, blasting through presets and arpeggios and samples and tones and moods that are as colorful, smooth, and engaging as they are angular and academic (the final seven tracks are all numbered “Studies” after all), calling to mind recent releases by artists like Nikmis and even the work of OM mainstay/co-administrator Giant Claw. Sure, the source of these sounds is as plastic as some of the Memphis Group’s pieces, but they’re just as imaginative and no less festive. See, where someone like James Ferraro uses his vast computerized library to tease out the darkness and the nihilism of manufacture and consumerism, Wellins injects his music with sheer joy, embracing the oddity and absurdity of color, shape, and texture and how it functions to jolt one’s senses out of stasis. He embraces the artistry behind it, understanding that things, physical items, can actually produce happiness if enough care goes into them and they hold an aesthetic appeal for a subset of consumers. That’s why it’s important to actually hold his tape in your hand – it has real weight, and the art by Mariano Pascual is the perfect accompaniment to the tunes within.
If postmodernism and retro chic are your thing, then Matt Wellins has the perfect soundtrack for you, and Orange Milk pretty much has all the perfect soundtracks for that in their catalog (among other things, obviously). Not only that, there are actual yodels on “Music For The Memphis Group!” You know you want to hear how that works. They’re on “Alaska.” Trust me, they’re glorious.
Cop Funeral – Part-Time Pay / Paid Vacation 8.24.17 by Ryan Masteller
Josh Tabbia’s reflection on abuse – abusive relationships, abusive power structures, abusive employment statuses – isn’t as harrowing or terrifying as I had supposed it might be, which is a surprise. Think about it – psychological torture is pretty explicit and terrible stuff, and regardless of intention or intensity level, it should be the stuff that fuels nightmares and induces panic attacks. I am fortunate to have relationships with people around me that are normal and human—they are decidedly not abusive. I hope Tabbia has found an exit.
And while it’s not “harrowing” or “terrifying,” it’s certainly unsettling, but Cop Funeral has some sort of grip on general listenability that eludes many noise artists. Now before you get all huffy on me, note that “listenability” is relative, and is actually barely a criterion – your listenability and my listenability and the Tabs Out Podcast nerds’ listenability are all personal characteristics, so leave us all alone. What I mean is, there’s more than just dense, harsh texture – Cop Funeral’s all over the place, lasering tones and layering waveforms so your ears don’t exactly know where to focus from one second to the next. It makes for a gratifying listen from start to finish
Unsettling, yes, and tense. The opening triptych, “Limited Benefits,” “Part-Time Pay,” and “My Boss Vapes in the Bathroom” are variations on the restrictions imposed upon us in our occupational environments, and Tabbia tackles each idea with a similar approach albeit with varying operational touches. Sirens of anxiety wail before they’re roped in by general, pulsing, low-end dread, which evolves to allow the coexistence of higher-register tones so that, while they’re not at peak freakout, they’re on the verge of it at any given moment. It’s good stuff, and if something was eating at me, I certainly wouldn’t want to listen to this. But “7-3-16” is a calming track of water sounds and distant birds, and “Paid Vacation” ends the EP with twelve minutes of minor-key dirge, scribble lines of concern entering in the middle before resolving back to the dirge. It’s like when you’re nearing the end of a holiday and you realize the work’s piled up on your desk for you to dig through on Monday. Fun! Or, not fun at all. This is supposed to be vacation, dammit! “Coping and healing,” according to Tabbia, but still scarred.
“Part-Time Pay / Paid Vacation” is available from 1980 Records, and is currently in stock! Get busy getting busy.
Wait a minute, I’ve read this book. It’s a tale of internal struggle, one where the protagonist is also the antagonist. Actually, there’s only one character: the protagonist/antagonist. The internal struggle is the entire book. I’ve read this book. In fact, I’m reading this book right now. And you know what? I’ve always been reading this book. This book is about me. This book is me. The internal struggle is mine, a Sisyphean algorithm that never resolves. I must have lent the book to Samuel Truitt. His album “Thorns” reflects it perfectly.
You might wonder about why Truitt bills “Thorns” as “an instrumental book on tape,” a cheeky idea rife with probable symbolism made even cheekier because of the stubborn refusal of “Thorns” to crack a smile otherwise. Once you hear it though, you’ll wonder no longer – it’ll make perfect sense. Truitt splits his tape into “chapters,” “Solitude,” “Thorns,” and “Chant” making up side A, and “Mind Meld” parts 1 and 2 comprising the B-side. And although these ambient tracks surely point toward New Age – specifically West Coast New Age, the probable DIY scene Truitt explicitly belongs to (I imagine it being to San Francisco what Dischord was to DC) – they express a range of emotion that could easily play out over a novel-length character arc. And remember, this is not New Age music that your parents would be into – somebody like Yanni wouldn’t comprehend it at all. That’s why this book is me. I express non-Yanni human emotions, and therefore I get the hell what Samuel Truitt is doing.
Maybe your parents are cool, though, and they’d like this. Can’t hurt to try.
Are you a non-Yanni human being? Do you huff oxygen and expel carbon dioxide? Does the carbon dioxide you expel NOT find its way into the pipes of a pan flute? Have you visited Melters’ Bandcamp page in a while? If not, why not, you sweet, sweet idiot? It’s available for the right price, the right price being $5, or above if you feel the need to donate a bit more to the cause.
Wires Crossed – Sound Holes vs Self-help 8.21.17 by Mike Haley
There is a legion of labels and weirdo jammers releasing cassette, with new names popping up every single day. With those staggering numbers it can be easy to mix em up, get confused, or form loose associations. Wires Crossed will take those Corey Haim/Corey Feldman and Oprah/Uma situations and figure out just how similar they are.
This time around we take a look at Sound Holes and Self-help, two labels that share initials and a taste for black & white Jcards.
-In 5 words or less describe your label.
Sound Holes: Sound Holes is a “noise/experimental sound cassette label.”
Self-help: Experimental sounds
-Where in the world does your label operate out of? How much distance do you think separates the two of you?
Sound Holes: Aberdeen, Scotland. I think Self-Help are in Sweden somewhere, I’ll guess 1100 miles as the seagull flies
Self-help: Northern parts of Sweden, if I would guess 6-7000 km or something like that? I really have no idea from where Sound Holes operates so this is a wild guess.
actual distance: 871.83 miles , 1403.07 kilometers (km) , 4603252 feet , 1403071 meters
-What was the last thing you ate?
Sound Holes: Steak sandwich.
Self-help: A tempeh burger.
-All of your covers are black & white. What is behind that choice?
Sound Holes: I like to keep it simple, also always thought that black and white photocopied artwork/zines etc looked the best. The earlier releases always had colourful cassettes with colour spray on them, I enjoyed doing that but there was too much spray paint. I then started labeling the tapes and stopped using colours. Might go back to colours though…
Self-help: I use a stamp with removable types, the reason is the directness and simplicity. I like the contrast of black on white, the uneven spacing that sometimes occurs and that the placement of the actual print varies somewhat.
-Self-Help has released a tape by Pink Gaze and The Heroic Quartet. Sound Holes released a tape by Golden Oaks Three Billion. If you were forced to add one color to your black & white color scheme, which would it be: Pink or Gold?
Sound Holes: Gold. A touch of class.
Self-help: Pink for sure. That’s just an awesome color in combination with black and white.
-What color(s) are the walls of the room you are currently in?
Sound Holes: Off-white & copper(ish).
Self-help: Yellow, green, red and white. Wallpaper with large flower prints.
-Wayne or Garth?
Sound Holes: Garth. Game on!
Self-help: Garth.
-What are a few of your favorite tape labels at the moment?
Sound Holes: Heavy Tapes (always), Skeleton Dust, Chocolate Monk, Three Songs Of Lenin, Beartown, Throne Heap, Mantile, Palilalia, Hanson (not all of these are exclusively tapes, but that doesn’t matter). There are so many that I have not listed.
Self-help: I love Falt. Amazing artwork and the tapes are all just wonderful.
-Considering that both of your labels’ art is strictly black & white, and further Self-Help always sports text-only Ocards, has anyone ever decided against doing a tape with you because of art restrictions?
Sound Holes: Not that I know of. I hope not!
Self-help: Not that I know of. Most people contacting me about releases that I consider know the label and like the aesthetics it has, no one has decided against due to the visual restrictions after contacting the label.
-Do you have any cassette pet peeves?
Sound Holes: No, I like all cassettes equally.
Self-help: The nostalgia for sure. Cassettes are a great recording media in itself, no need to soak it up in nostalgia.
-Are your releases home or pro dubbed? Why?
Sound Holes: Home dubbed (on decent quality cassette decks), I like the process (although it can get a bit much sometimes). Also, I don’t have room to stack up the full runs of all the in print releases if I got them all pro dubbed.
Self-help: Home dubbed. I like the approach of doing it at home, stamping covers, dubbing and drinking a few glasses of wine. Also, I like how the releases grows on you, sitting there dubbing and listening to the releases over and over and really getting to know the music.
-What prompted you to start a tape label?
Sound Holes: A good friend, many years ago encouraged me to start up.
Self-help: I had a few things I thought needed to be put on tape. Stuff I stumbled upon on soundcloud back when you actually could stumble upon things there, now it feels more like a mess or it might be me having too little time to actually delve through to the stuff I love.
-Both of your labels have very similar logos. What typeface did you use?
Sound Holes: One of those stamp letter sets. Used it at the start and will never stop.
Self-help: Oh no idea. Just used the types I use for the covers, took a picture and that was that. Logos isn’t really a thing I care about.
-What sort of edition sizes do you do?
Sound Holes: 30 – 100ish.
Self-help: It has varied, but nowadays I only do runs of 30.
-Would you consider Sound Hole releases to be “self-help” / Self-Help releases to be “sound holes” in anyway?
Sound Holes: Yes, sounds soothe the soul.
Self-help: Sure, if I interpret it as sound holes in acoustic stringed instruments, directing and resonating the sounds in a way. I think this is the main reason for doing a release on whatever phycial media, directing and collecting these interconnected but separate works together and giving them a context in which they can resonate together with one another.
-If you were to start another label with the initials “S.H.” what would it be called?
Sound Holes: Spicy Hammock. I’ve always wanted to call a label Each Hit. Has that name been used before? Caroliner has/had BullShit.
Self-help: Sun Hearth
-What video game character would you most like to release a tape by?
Sound Holes: I bet Mario has seen some things in his lifetime. He could probably channel that into something pretty special. Sonic would probably have more projects/aliases though, he seems a bit more all over the place.
Self-help: Harry from Firewatch. I imagine field recordings of the wildlife and maybe snippets of the conversations over the radio with Delilah.
-If your label was a chemical element, which would it be?
Sound Holes: It would be an inorganic anion, Bisulfide, SH−
Self-help: Iron. Oxidized of course.
-What was the last tape you bought?
Sound Holes: Last one that arrived was Alex Crispin “Idle Worship”. Last I ordered were a few tapes by the guitarist Alexander.
Self-help: Jääkausi by this amazing band Horceface. Highly recommended.
-Paper, rock, scissor. Shoot!
Sound Holes: Rock.
Self-help: Paper.
-Let’s end this with a random Youtube video. What ya go?
Ambient Artist Tyler Magill Sustained A Stroke Protesting White Supremacy 8.18.17 by Mike Nigro
After a long weekend of standing up to fascist fuckos in Charlottesville, VA, Tyler Magill (that’s him chasing “Unite the Right” organizer Jason Kessler out of his own press conference) of Grand Banks and Carry suffered a stroke on Tuesday morning. The stroke was caused by a blood clot which were likely a result of injuries sustained when he was assaulted with fucking tiki torch on Friday night.
As you would expect with someone who’s involved in his local community, a GoFundMe page sprung up almost immediately to help offset his medical bills – I encourage you to contribute a few bucks to a weirdo in need.
When I say he’s “involved in the community,” I mean the guy is everywhere; a crucial member of the Charlottesville scene. He’s ripping sets and releasing tapes with his legendary free music project Grand Banks and solo as Carry, he hosts The Broadcasting System on WTJU, he runs the Low Records shop, and he’s a UVa employee.
If you’re not familiar with Tyler’s music, it’s time to get learned. He just released new Carry material on my label Oxtail Recordings (his artist copies were waiting for him when he got home from the hospital!). And Grand Banks is one of the best live bands I’ve ever seen – they’ve been jamming together for nearly 20 years and it’s just your luck that they have an incredible archive of live sets on their Bandcamp page. Their tape “QB4: 1877-1896” is one of the most dreamy and heart wrenching pieces of experimental music I’ve ever heard.
Tyler’s an amazing source of energy and vitality in the world and someone who’s shared an insane amount of himself with all of us. It’s time to share a little bit back – smash that GoFundMe link.
