masteller

V/A – Doom Mix Vol. II
4.23.18 by Ryan Masteller

Comps are dumping grounds for neglected tunes that couldn’t make the album cut. Just look at the enormous stack of Warped Tour and Ozzfest and DGC and what-have-you CDs gathering dust in the corner over there and tell me they have a use other than landfill fodder. And seriously, you should probably get rid of all those.

…Which is what I WOULD HAVE SAID back in the days before the light illuminated the truth and these old codger’s eyes were opened for good! (But I still mean it: those CDs in the corner just aren’t good ones.) That’s right, I’ve come around to the glorious use of the compilation as a means for perpetuating the label brand, and it’s all thanks to “Doom Mix Vol. I,” which was my favorite release by California whippersnappers Doom Trip before that whole Mukqs tape came along (gosh, that’s a good’un, along with the REST of the tapes in the Doom Trip catalog). And now we’ve got a SECOND volume, “Doom Mix Vol. II” (duh), filled to the brim with Doom Trip artists old (R. Stevie Moore, Diamondstein, Heejin Jang) and new (Brayeden Jae, MrDougDoug, Dntel). If that name Dntel sounds familiar, you’d be right: you probably heard his song with up-and-coming singer/songwriter Ben Gibbard on the hit show “The OC.” (And I predict BIG THINGS for that fellow Gibbard, by the way – he truly is a treasure.)

All kidding aside, “Doom Mix Vol. II” is filled chockablock with excellent tunes, once again proving my old self wrong and solidifying the idea that diversity in sound unified under one roof can be just as cohesive and stunning as a single artist executing a singular vision. And on this second anniversary of Doom Trip’s existence, what better way to celebrate than by tripping fully through the “variety of approaches to electronic music” that the label’s pushing? I know that’s what I’ll be doing.

And in the spirit of calling attention to a compilation track surprising the hell out of me, here’s a standout on initial listen: Diamondstein’s “Taghut #2.” But don’t stop there, dive back in for the rest! Downloads are FREE FOREVER, but only 150 of the tapes exist…

And DON’T throw this tape in a landfill!

Huron – The Blue Tape
4.18.18 by Ryan Masteller

It’s not often I get thanked in liner notes, and in fact I can’t think of a single time it’s happened before. But sure enough, Philly ambient artist Johnny Lancia, aka Huron, has seen fit to shout out yours truly right on the tape’s lovely, evocative Jcard. Maybe it’s the somewhere-in-suburban-Pennsylvania twilight depicted, or maybe it’s the subdued and twilit soundscapes emanating from Huron’s “The Blue Tape,” but there’s something just so personal and directed about “Thanks to everyone who listened” that gets me right in the spot where all my emotions reside. Feel me?

OK, har har, but let these carefully curated washes of treated sound crest and break over you for a minute and see how you feel. “The Blue Tape” is perfectly colored, dense with melancholy and meaning, and almost the exact thing you need at the close of the day, any day, any season, whether you’re an office jockey staring out through an urban jungle or a landlocked sea captain wishing just one last time to feel the wind at your back as you man the tiller (though preferably not with something like this bearing down on you). There’s just a moon-on-the-water vibe about Huron, about “The Blue Tape” that starts the old emotional juices flowing again, and I can’t help but think that I missed my calling somehow. I should have learned to skipper a boat; I should have been married to the sea. (Apologies to my wife, obviously.)

I admit it, I totally stopped thinking about the office jockey as soon as I started making sea captain references – sorry. It’s that patented Huron song cycle, that ebb and flow of liquid longing. Apparently it does it to me every time.

“The Blue Tape” comes in an edition of 50, direct from Huron himself. Philly style.

New Batch – Personal Archives
4.17.18 by Ryan Masteller

If you’re like me, you’ve been doing all kinds of stupid stuff here in 2018 EXCEPT paying attention to what Personal Archives was releasing. This is a flaw in my (and your) character – there is no reason that we should be April deep into an entire year without some coverage of Bob Bucko Jr.’s label. God knows he’s out there, fighting the good fight across this great nation of ours, touring like his life depends on it (it does – it’s probably a medical condition), preaching the gospel of Personal Archives far and wide. This man is a national treasure. We should treat him like one.

So what’s he cooked up for us? (Tape-wise that is. He releases these round things too sometimes. Some are larger and – plastic? Some are smaller and composed of digital code that are read by “lasers.” As if that’s safe!)

SAXSQUATCH & BRIDGE BAND – “APOGEE”

Behold, the elusive Saxsquatch in his natural habitat – behind the mouthpiece of a saxophone, fronting a swinging band in a studio environment! Hey, at least he’s not causing mass panic by traipsing through the woods like his cousin, or dancing in a hamburger costume. Saxsquatch, aka Jarad Selner, has joined forces with Bridge Band, featuring Cousin Will Benoit, Jakab Selner, and Jarab Selner – no relation … oh wait, probably there’s a family relation – and released “Apogee,” a tape featuring some damn fine slow jams and jazzy runthroughs. Who says the kids don’t swing these days? Actually it’s me – I scream that at all the kids who happen to wander too close to my porch. But still, I won’t be yelling that at the Selners and Cousin Will, because they just put me at my ease, just like my old records used to do… Who said “records”?!

MATTHEW AS MORE – “APOCALYPSE NEVER”

Oh, Matthew, legalize LSD? I mean, we can’t even do the “herb” right, let alone the thing that they used for MK Ultra. Whatever. At least you’re trying, which is more than I can say for those ridiculous potheads, am I right? With their Cheech and Chong and their vans and their filthy ponchos. I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. What I do know is “Apocalypse Never” is some righteous throwback action to the turbulent sixties, when rock was real and fueled by whatever chemical compound found its way into the bodies of all the hottest musicians. I’m not usually one to be enticed, entranced, hypnotized, possessed by this rock and roll stuff, but “Apocalypse Never” can soundtrack my blacklight party anytime. And is it just me that wants Matthew As More to share a stage with Brother John Terlesky so bad right now?

WILMOTH AXEL – “RESONATION”

Pac NW psych enthusiasts Wilmoth Axel return, as the PROPHECIES FORETOLD, to Personal Archives, having released a handful of other stuff there over the years. Nurtured by spirits and steeped in tradition, the band take another crack at their brand of free-associative freewheeling, blazing their own path through the brazen psychedelia their shamanistic forebears envisioned. Again, prophecies, coming true, etc., it is like the god-DANGED rock version of the book of Isaiah or something. Once again, the sixties are invoked, we have to, we must. Pump that resistance through our veins like we depend on it for life! Huh? What? Oh, it’s ok, I’m on the BROWN acid.

Supersentient Intelligence Construct – Holomorphic Metacrystal
4.13.18 by Ryan Masteller

There’s codes in that static, I can feel em. Sense em. I know they’re there, but to tease them out would require a machine that’s beyond my capacity to build and software that’s beyond my capacity to program. You guys ever seen Aronofsky’s “Pi”? I keep telling everyone to watch “Pi,” but nobody listens to me. There’s some kind of secret hidden in “Pi” that hasn’t revealed itself to me, something that’s gonna blast through the perceptive roadblocks, gonna blow open the “gateways of the multiverse.” Until then I’m just gonna use my mathematical expertise to sink hundreds of millions of dollars into the stock market until something good comes out of it.

Supersentient Intelligence Construct has taken a jackhammer to those “gateways of the multiverse,” or something to that effect, on “Holomorphic Metacrystal,” a lengthy cycle of physics-defying and dimension-ripping synthesizer experiments. The sonic equivalent to building that room-sized processor that I’ve alluded to (but somehow can’t find the time to finish, or indeed add the necessary parts to), “Holomorphic Metacrystal” becomes, then functions, humming away in the back room of some lab of some university while a bunch of lab nerds tinker with it. The codes emerge as melody, forming in the air and reconstructing their meaning within the cognitive centers of my brain as I listen. Will they provide the answers that I (and we) so long for? Or will they overwhelm us to the point of mental shutdown? Either way, I’m ready for the trip, but I’m gonna spend a few hundred million dollars on lottery tickets first.

“Highly collectable limited edition black C62 cassette in a clear case, with multilayered artwork by CLUT, featuring holographic foil highlights.” It’s like you’re speaking to the audience of the Tabs Out Podcast, there, [d]-tached records!

Eave – s/t
4.12.18 by Ryan Masteller

Eave is a quartet of minimalist free-jazz interlopers, just a bunch of crazy kids (and their talking dog) sniffing around old haunted trombones and phantom tympani, only interested in uncovering the mysteries of sonic structure and timbral cohesion. That’s right, Shaggy, Fred, Daphn… I mean, uh, Anna Webber, Erik Hove, Vicky Mettler, and Evan Tighe tease out the ghosts that flit through the abandoned mansion of improv, the ones spooking all the locals into never setting foot on the property to figure out what the heck is actually going on in there.

That’s right, “Eave” is like a dark-ass Scooby Doo episode, and although your mind probably went directly to the theme song, that’s not exactly what I mean. It’s more like, what can these four kooks unearth? What secrets can they illuminate in their search for the truth? How can they work together to solve the riddle? What clues can they uncover to help them get to the bottom of this? How are we going to fit all the Harlem Globetrotters in this van? Each note and sound serve as elements to the greater story, and although you may feel like you’re peering through ancient keyholes to the interiors of dusty old rooms as you listen to “Eave,” the unknown beckons. A bastion of restraint, “Eave” is all mood, its cryptic passages goading you forward, ever deeper into the gloom of uncertainty. Rip the mask off whatever monster you find back there!

“Eave” by Eave (no real title necessary) is available from Astral Spirits in an edition of 175. I’m gonna go grab a snack. Want anything?