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New Batch – Never Anything
7.25.16 by Scott Scholz

Fledgling cassette label Never Anything Records may be less than a year old, but this Portland, OR and Chicago co-located label founded by Jeff Lane (Tereshkova), Tyler King, and Clay Mahn (Lustana) has already established a curatorial momentum you’d expect from veteran pressure-pad Pilgrims. A few of my favorite tapes of the last year from folks like Amulets, More Eaze, and Bret Schneider have passed through the hallowed duplicators of Never Anything, and their new batch of four releases (including 2 double-cassettes!) lays down a serious gauntlet in terms of both quality and quantity, Here’s a rundown of this killer quartet:

Mortuus Auris & the Black Hand – The Journal of a Disappointed Man
The latest in a long run of great releases on labels like Stunned and Hyle Tapes, Peter Taylor’s work as Mortuus Auris continues to reach into a unique pocket between outer-space and chamber music vibes. There is a lot of piano on this tape, an instrument that rarely gets its due in experimental circles nowadays. Simple piano motifs shift between solo and chamber music textures, manipulated with delay pedals and looped fragments. On the whole, this is a very tonal and approachable set of pieces, rich with melancholy, but the centerpiece of the album is the longer and more abstracted “Temporal Anomalies of the Mind,” whose cosmic excursions feel like bits of satellite transmissions coalescing into new forms.

Charles Barabé – Cicatrices
Barabé’s solo work is divided into several different approaches that have each been progressing in their own series, including Stigmates and Confessions. With the release of Cicatrices, we get the latest in another series, expanding on the work found on last year’s Cicatrice, Scar, Eclair on 2:00AM Tapes. And what an expansion it is, both in length and depth. At 110 minutes spread across 2 cassettes, the intense integration of composed and repurposed sounds in Cicatrices has the epic scope and narrative strength of a feature film rendered entirely in audio.

Alternately playful, funny, serious, and foreboding, Barabé unites deadly serious and campy musical traditions in a strikingly original series of “parts” divided by synthesized speech pronouncements. Along with its “Stigmates” and “Confessions” companions, there is a Catholic literary reference unfolding across this body of work (“cicatrice” appears in Latin New Testament texts in reference to the post-resurrection scars on Christ), but it seems more general than particular, pointing toward the imposing foundations of Western culture. These pieces employ a truly incredible range of Western musical traditions, adopting idiomatic passages for their familiarity at first glance, but ultimately using them as calibration points for assertive journeys into new and unfamiliar territory. A serious contender for album of the year.

Peter Kris – Labrador
As half of the impossibly prolific German Army, Peter Kris has launched a series of solo albums over the last year. If you’re into German Army, you definitely want to spend some time with Peter Kris, as these guitar-centric and warmer albums are excellent companions to the GeAr discography. But like many of German Army’s 2016 jams, Labrador finds Peter Kris expanding his usual 2- or 3-minute-per-piece approach into longer pieces and new approaches to arrangement.

As a lengthy double-cassette release, Labrador feels like the manifesto to a fully-realized Peter Kris approach, with some tunes that are more ominous and industrial than redemptive. There is a sense of distance in this album that’s new to the PK sound, lending the music a more universal magnetism. While guitars remain the dominant voice of this project, longer pieces like “Trawl” and “Full Circle” are instead constructed from drones and field recordings of unknown provenance. These are balanced with some of the most melodic guitar writing on any Kris albums to date on tunes like “Visiting” and “Evening Grey,” making for a perfectly balanced and immersive exploration of poverty-stricken margins of the Inland Empire and beyond.

Lustana – Pt. II
Rounding out this summer batch, Never Anything’s own co-founder Lustana returns for a second tape on NA. It’s a nice way to round out the work of the label so far as well, since Pt. I was the first NA release last fall. This is the only album of this batch with an emphasis on relatively traditional song-with-vocals writing, and it perfectly captures the long shadows of humid late summer atmospheres. Some tunes employ full band arrangements, like the hazy guitars and gate reverb-laden vocals of “Anywhere But Here” or “Strawberry” that evoke classic 60s vibes with a little twist from more contemporary synth sequencing. The B-side introduces some serious midtempo soul, with the funky basslines of “Swimming Pools” and shimmering organs of “Dance Away.” It’s a great tape to put on for a gentle landing after the long, wild ride of this batch.

Never Anything has kept their consistent design aesthetic going with this batch, featuring simple one-color j-cards with minimal designs printed in black, and simple white tapes with stamped labels. The double cassettes pit the vertical against the horizontal, with the Barabé in a double-height Norelco box, and the Peter Kris in a butterfly case. Most of these are small editions of 50, so don’t delay: hit up Never Anything on Bandcamp.

Comfort Food – Waffle Frolic
3.30.16 by Scott Scholz

Chicago’s Comfort Food has been laying down their heavy jazz/rock/tribal/math jams for a few years now, but their latest tape for Already Dead, “Waffle Frolic,” is a whole new party power-up for your ears. Their previous tape, “Dr. Faizan’s Feel-Good Brain Pills,” displayed an admirable kind of gutbucket rock/jazz blend with some serious swagger in tunes like “Dem Grapes,” but look: ain’t no Frolic like a Waffle Frolic, ‘cause a Waffle Frolic don’t stop.

“Waffle Frolic” most closely reminds me of the first pair of Sex Mob albums, or Joey Baron’s “Raised Pleasure Dot,” mega-fun jams from the 90’s that found some seriously next-level players laying back, focusing on sloppy-but-sexy grooves and the occasional “bad note contest,” rediscovering the pleasures of jagged edges, weird forms, and other perfect imperfections. Those are some of my all time favorite albums for their total commitment to fun within a genre that was increasingly self-serious. But Sex Mob and Barondown were all-live lineups that could go wherever the music took them. What makes Comfort Food especially remarkable in comparison is their existence as a simple duo, with Daniel Wolff layering his work on bass, trumpet and vocals with clever looping strategies, while Jake Marshall finds the perfect beats to keep building these jams toward the sky. Where most loop-based music can’t help but feel a little subdued in terms of groove, these two have unlocked the mystery to using loops while still making music that feels confident and unrestrained.

My favorite tune here is opener “They Got Minivans,” a funky jazz riff piece with the perfect buildup of trumpet and bass grooves that keeps nudging toward an out-of-control frenzy, tempered by the perfect amount of compositional patience. But there are more rock/tribal-fueled pieces like “The Happy Good-Time Fun Situation” or “Tear Down Those Silos” on the B side that are just as satisfying in their rituals of abandon and release. And this is also a beautifully recorded album that alternates between reverb spaces and in-your-face dry mixes with thoughtful attention to compositional density. This is one of those “gateway” tapes perfect for getting your less-adventurous friends further into weirdo jams, with plenty of tight rhythms and riffs to hang onto while you slide toward bizarre vocals and samples and ecstatic noise.

Don’t be alarmed by that dried syrup coagulated on your chin when you return to your senses the next morning. These are grooves worth leaving in your beard for a while, even if you can’t grow a beard. Pick ‘em up from Already Dead while you still can.

New Batch – Inner Islands
3.14.16 by Scott Scholz

Generally I’m all about the most note-dense, intense, wild musical excursions I can get my ears on. Composed or improvised, bring on the multiple layers, the contrapuntal races across time, the metrically modulating tempi in odd time signatures: if it’s headache-inducing, I’ll gladly suffer for the privilege of adventure.

But I’ve been mighty stressed in recent months, and sometimes the music I (think I) want isn’t the music I really need. In the last year, I’ve found myself turning regularly to the healing companionship evident in every curatorial move made by Oakland’s gently brilliant Inner Islands, and their latest pair of tapes will guide your next meditation toward a soft and supportive landing.

Channelers is the solo project of Inner Islands label guru Sean Conrad. The followup to last year’s excellent “They Are Cloaked in Stars and Rivers,” his “Essex” brings synth-driven pieces with just the right touch of acoustic instruments and field recordings to create balanced, immersive experiences. Opening with gentle ostinato figures and drifting synth pads, the album begins to take full shape around “Safe Space,” with guitars drenched in reverb and delay while insistent synth rhythms propel the piece. This piece is more rhythmic than most here, but not to the extent that you’ll fall out of the blissful state you’ve been nudged into: just a little definition to further shape your serenity.

The B-side opens with some nicely hazed banjo work amid synth drones, but the final piece is the real stunner here. “Longing to Swim in the Realm of My Childhood Dream” makes field recordings the foundation for evolving, breathing synth work. True to the childhood dream concept, many of these sounds morph and reverse on themselves, creating a restful yet surreal space. A great end to a serene pleasure of an album.

A kinder gentler iteration of Braeyden Jae, softest gives us six “wishes” over two sides. That’s twice as many wishes as the average genie, folks. And what gorgeous wishes they are—where Channelers often feels oceanic, softest evokes those ozone-heavy moments right after a good spring downpour. These pieces progress carefully, initially feeling a little static but gently evolving as they dry off in the sun. On the A side, the first three wishes feature electric guitar figures and vaguely symphonic synths drifting in and out of the mix. Melodies coalesce out of effervescent pads, with guitar strums at the perfect points of emphasis.

The B side introduces simple but very effective percussion. In “wish 4,” a simple kick drum pushes swirling arpeggios ever forward. The repetition here feels like a mantra with just a hint of vaporwave, like a phrase snipped from a soft rock prechorus as it repeats and mutates into something transcendent. Field recordings bubble in the mists of “wish 5,” and “wish 6” hosts subtle percussion under long, luxurious pads, while a keyboard melody asserts itself toward the end of the album.

I know it’s rough out there, but be sure to add “pick up the latest batch from Inner Islands” to your to-do list, and your tensions will be melting away soon enough.

Cintas Chromo’s Audio Encyclopedia Of Weird Spain
1.19.16 by Scott Scholz

Your average modern American might come up with Pablo Picasso or trendy tapas restaurants if pressed for examples of cool stuff from Spain, but the underground music scene going down from Valencia to Barcelona right now is among the most vibrant in the world. Wild synth zoners, updates to early industrial soundscapes, and impactful harsh noise are all well represented in the catalogs of killer labels like Cønjuntø Vacíø, Verlag System, and Atrocious Symphonies.

But if you’re just getting into this scene, there is no better introduction than the “Enciclopedia Chromo” series from new cassette label Cintas Chromo. Like succinct audio-encyclopedia entries, this series of mostly C20 tapes gives international listeners a taste of the range of deep jams coming from contemporary Spain, the perfect starting point for figuring out which artists you want to dig into some more. Already up to five “entries” in just a few months, this series is off to a fine start, with more excellent releases in the works. Featuring black & white cover designs with matching spines, these will eventually make for an attractive-looking travelogue series that’ll be easy to locate for quick reference on your shelves, too.

Volume 1 in the series features solo work from Julio Tornero, a member of the vibrant Polígono Hindú Astral. These brief jams are a great start to the series, uniting a diverse palette of cosmic synths, slightly abrasive industrial overtones, and percussion sequences somewhere between Cabaret Voltaire and EDM.

Noisegg, a solo project of Huevo, the bassist for Cementerio and Derrota, is featured on volume 2. This music veers between industrial and harsh noise textures, bookended by opening/closing tunes that have persistent modular melodies that feel like a doom/sludge variation on Perturbator.

The lone C40 in the series so far, Volume 3 is from Sentionaut, an imaginative synth-slinger who also plays in Dekatron III. These are killer krautrock-infused jams, featuring thoughtfully layered synths, uptempo percussion, and a great melodic sensibility. If you’re into latter-day Tangerine Dream or great synth albums from labels like Field Hymns, you’ll find a lot to love with Sentionaut.

On Volume 4, you’ll find solo music from the head of the Atrocious Symphonies label performing as Malacoda. These short pieces capture pensive, dark atmospheres, veering from cinematic vistas to more intimate, minimalist industrial vibes. Processed vocal work plays a major role in many of these pieces as well.

The latest in the series, Volume 5 features Noir Noir, whose black metal and psychedelic overtones make this tape the most punishing 20 minutes of the series so far. While these pieces still fall generally in the “synth zoner” spectrum, they’re more like journeys into a blackened underworld than the open skies.

All of these tapes are still available, making this the perfect time to get into the Enciclopedia Chromo series. Plus Ultra!

Bastian Void / Kyle Landstra – split
1.15.16 by Scott Scholz

Two of the best synth zoners to ring out a stellar 2015, Kyle Landstra and Joe Bastardo’s Bastian Void take complementary yet opposite approaches to modular mayhem. Both artists bring recent recordings of pieces workshopped over summer gigs to this split C45 on Chicago’s Lillerne Tapes, gifting us with a rare tape that explores both inner and outer space.

On the A-side, Bastian Void’s “Acorn Construction” is a perpetual motion machine, blasting off with a persistent arpeggiator section into a field of cosmic dust. Several other arpreggiator-dominated passages morph into one another, nicely balancing timbres from the three major food groups of kosmische: square, saw, and sine waves. Even when the piece eventually settles into swelling pads and fading drones toward its end, a sense of motion and vertigo remains. This side is a great companion for interstate (or interstellar) travel.

When you arrive at your destination, though, it might be time to turn within, and Kyle Landstra is ready to light up your limbic system with his “Seeking Refuge in Emptiness” on the B-side. Like Bastian Void, Landstra is no stranger to the joys of the arpeggiator, but here he focuses instead on slowly shifting pads and drones. A fine coda to his excellent “Unshared Properties” quadruple tape on Sacred Phrases just a few months earlier, this feels like a reverent embrace of stillness, made of compressed time and gentle atmospheres. From its midpoint onward, “Seeking Refuge” starts to incorporate rhythmic, arpeggiated figures, but somehow they feel more circular than linear, embracing the listener from a central position instead of defining a path of movement.

Bastardo laid down some killer infinite-regression artwork that’s just perfect for this split, and he printed up these j-cards all classy and gorgeous, too, with fine line work and vintage, muted colors. There’s a rad little card inside, too, where you can familiarize yourself with these fine fellows’ feline companions. These babies are almost gone, but you can still snag one of the last copies over at the Lillerne Bandcamp. Happy travels!