Over the past few months I’ve listened to a ton of poorly recorded drone music, so it’s pretty refreshing to hear a beautifully mixed ambient album like loscil’s Endless Falls. loscil, a.k.a. Scott Morgan, is from Vancouver, and this is his fifth album under the loscil name (he also drums in Destroyer). Beginning and ending with the sound of rain, Endless Falls is a dour, contemplative album that uses the tools of dub techno (phasers, heavy echo, flangers) and instruments like viola, piano, and harp (?) to create poignant soundscapes that are both tense and becalming. Like fellow Canadian Tim Hecker, Morgan is a master at creating instrumental music with hidden depths; songs that seemed pleasant on the first listen later sound on edge, and vice versa.

According to the album’s press release, many of the songs are built around samples of rain recorded in Morgan’s backyard. This is most apparent on songs like “Showers of Ink” and “Shallow Water Blackout,” which capture the way in which the rhythm of the rain can be both eerie and comforting. “Lake Orchard,” which I’m including for streaming, has a deep low end that pulses beneath shimmering loops and strings–it’s an amazing track.

Endless Falls will be available March 1 on Kranky.

timelapse1 from loscil on Vimeo.

MP3 :::
loscil – Lake Orchard

I believe that, technically, Atlas Sound is the headliner, but I’m treating this show as if Broadcast was. I love both artists, obviously. However, Bradford Cox, to quote The Spirit of Truth, makes his “ass very available,” whereas Broadcast hasn’t been around in a minute. So for me finally seeing Broadcast, after being a huge fan for six or seven years, is quite huge. They were also the primary motivation for making the three hour trek up I-71. I’m pleased to report that the goods were thoroughly delivered.

Opening was The Selmanaires from Atlanta. They were rad. Think of Gang Gang Dance. Now imagine a non-shitty version of Gang Gang Dance. That’s The Selmanaires. The majority of the set consisted of ambient layers by way of their Mini Korg, which eventually ascended into Mercury Rev-style ornate pop with pervasive, intricate rhythms and nasty low end. Oh, and djembes everywhere. While The Selmanaires were fairly cosmic, they do indeed like the nightlife and/or like to boogie.

One thing I really dug about the Wexner, besides being a nice college facility, was the total absence of fucking around. There was virtually no changeover time. After The Selmanaires finished up their 40-or-so minute set, the crew wheeled out the screen and flipped on the projector. The title card illuminated the screen – Winter Sun Wavelengths. And in the upper left hand corner was the Ghost Box logo, which pretty much guarantees that you’re about to see some shit. Some shit is also known as brain burning hauntological visuals from Julian House’s celestial brain.

So the Broadcast show takes a big fat page from the Wizard of Oz. Actually, spooky technicolor performance piece is a more accurate description, but for the sake of brevity, I’ll keep referring to it as “show.” Anyway, the “show” was divided, as suggested, into two segments. The first was a 20-minute, highly structured dissonant noise jam set to high contrast black-and-white visuals of opitcal illusions, eye exam cards, sine waves, and barren trees. During the epic psych slam, Broadcast was surprisingly loud. I’d put them on my top ten loudest bands I’ve seen list. Of course, their loudness is different than, say, Dinosaur Jr. Their loudness was dependent on frequencies and wavelengths that hit your ear in a very intense fashion rather than Mogwai-style pure horsepower. The permeating zone-out transmissions pulsated hard. My dome turned in to a cottonball and my balls retracted, not unlike my reaction toward My Bloody Valentine’s Holocaust Section (though Broadcast’s was less demonic).

Then, very suddenly, the barren trees faded – replaced with swirling pastels and a lead in to “Corporeal.” This was the latter half of the show. Broadcast treats their set as one long piece, so most of the songs faded into each other. After some atomic deep sea diving, we were treated to more Tender Buttons action a la “Black Cat,” as well as “Lunch Hour Pops” from Haha Sound, and… gobs of new material. It seems that Broadcast is now distinctly within motorik dream pop realms laced with the type of ambiance found on Witch Cults, meaning that the forthcoming effort(s) will be decidedly different than their pre-HaHa Sound retro-futuristic lounge as well as the glitchy IDM of Tender Buttons.

The highlight of the evening, however, was the finale. Trish Keenan strapped on a dulcimer, which is one of my favorite simple acoustic instruments. For the non-musician types, a dulcimer is a popular tool in traditional Appalachian music. It’s a rather quiet instrument, and one that you can often find with build-it-yourself kits for $30 or so. Hence, I figured we were going to get a break in the stratospheric jams and take a load off with a quiet ballad. No fucking dice. That dulcimer was amplified. Wut chu kno bout an electric dulcimer?!

This, folks, is a krautrock hoedown:

Lana put it best I think. She said something to the effect of “Band did not dick around. Girl sets up, throws up hands and cusses at the sound guy, walks on, says hello, rocks out, bumps into the mic a couple of times, gives a grateful thanks plus buh-bye, and they were out.” She also mentioned she felt “haunted,” and I’ll agree with that. This is art. Broadcast slayed it.

Atlas Sound closed out the evening. B Cox, of course, came out with some his world-famous banter while setting up. The Selmanaires returned to the stage to act as Bradford’s full backing band. I was impressed at how Cox reinterpreted his catalog for the live show. The best way to describe it would be “shoegaze Americana” or “truly cosmic American music” (a play on the Gram Parsons quotation) or “kinda like The Byrds but with more effects pedals.” Harmonica and twangy, tinty guitars were given the same amount of exposure as Deerhunter’s ad infinitum stage drones and effects pedal tweaking. It was a good time, but we had to dart shortly after “Walkabout” so we could get home before 4 a.m. and I could be at work Monday morning without being a total zombie. Besides, I love ya B Cox… but it’s fucking hard to follow up Broadcast. I mean, their live set was Old Testament. I still had crazy tinnitus ringing in my ears during Atlas Sound, ya know. Gonna miss those frequencies.

Regular readers of this blog will be familiar with my usual bellyachin’ about how my camera leaves much to be desired. However, I think the camera’s fuzziness in low light, combined with the high contrast visual element of the show, actually worked to our benefit this time. These photos, perhaps ironically, truly capture the telescopic mood of the show better than, say, a big boy camera like the Canon Rebel. I’m extremely pleased with how these turned out, considering troubles I’ve had with concert photos recently. Lana took ‘em all, so please send her some love on her Flickr page.

::: BROADCAST (a.k.a. <3 U TRISH KEENAN!!!1)

::: ATLAS SOUND

Effects pedals tweaker Adam Forkner, a.k.a. White Rainbow, has a lot going on for a relatively new artist. Besides touring Europe and supporting Deerhunter, dude also fist bumps Pauly Shore (see the Possibly Relevant links below). But what’s probably most relevant is that his new body of work for Kranky, New Clouds, is a funky, technicolor, rainbows-and-gumdrops psychedelic score for modern dance. Four songs, 60ish minutes long, and genre ambiguous, New Clouds is a beautiful and driving aural jaunt that, at the sake of sounding like a cheesedick, you just sorta get lost in. This is good vibes head music for folks who’s got, what Bad Brains called, that P.M.A. This album got my day started this morning.

I’ve tossed around the label “ambient music for people who don’t like ambient music” more than once, but it’s undeniably a good label for White Rainbow. There are no lyrics or verse/chorus actions (as you would expect from music often reviewed on this blog), but there’s lots of melody, lots of lush instrumentation, lots of texture, intricate rhythm, vague vocal chants, and a tension-and-release dynamic that makes New Clouds almost pop-oriented at times. If you haven’t peeped ol’ Rainbow yet, think of him as a shoegazey version of Growing that spent more time in the woods meditating, collecting cool threads, and partaking in the good peyote. And like Growing, who spent time frightening the Hot Chip fans on a supporting string of dates, White Rainbow also opens for a group infinitely inferior to him (Yacht… bleh) on a southeastern Asia vision quest. But hey, I can jive with whatever spreads his krautrock forest gospel.

New Clouds is a beautiful record, and surprisingly upbeat. Use it to get your day started. Or use it as the centerpiece in bong-rippin’ activities. New Clouds goes both ways. And it just dropped this week on Kranky. Go see about it.

For fans of: Belong, Growing, Cloudland Canyon

POSSIBLY RELEVANT :::
Most Psychedelic Times with White Rainbow, Pauly Shore, and the Hurdy Gurdy Bro
[Photos + Video] Deerhunter, Dan Deacon, and No Age with White Rainbow and More – 8.4.09 – Southgate House, Newport

MP3 :::
White Rainbow – All the Boogies in the World (excerpt)

Bedroom recordings/one man bands can obviously suffer from a lack of third party editing, indulgence, and impulse. But sometimes these caveats can also prohibit the growth of an entirely original, immersive, and painstakingly personal product. Seems like the ideal position for music junkie/nerd hero Atlas Sound, whose love for hushed, ghostly melodies have turned him into one of rock’s most beloved wet blankets. Bradford Cox doesn’t exactly share this sentiment anymore, though, and with his second album for Kranky, we find the project head trying to outrun his introverted nature on Logos.

The result is an album that is autobiographical not by it’s lyrics, but by the source of it’s sounds, it’s homages, collaborations, and cerebral passageways. It’s not self-mythetization so much as process of association. As children, we learn who we are by pretending to be others, and similarly Atlas Sound has begun to find it’s own unique shape through it’s loving mimics and costume changes. On “Quick Canal”, the soundtrack to a light-headed departure from our atmosphere, Cox recruits Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier for vocal duties. His sparse production of bio-luminescent synths and an unrelenting kraut shuffle allows his teenage hero to gracefully develop her siren call over Cox’s idiosyncratic groundwork. Another symbiotic marriage is formed on “Walkabout”, the albums sunniest cut. With the help of recent tour mate Panda Bear, the two successfully transform the Dover’s “What Am I Going to Do”, into a big beat ode to childhood of hiccuping organs and blissed out vocal camaraderie. But while this will be considered the album’s leading single, it would be a shame to let Cox’s commanding presence on the solo tracks go unnoticed.

Atlas Sound’s approach has always been admittedly loose and comprised largely of first takes. “There are songs on here I don’t even remember recording,” he said in a recent interview with Stereogum, but never before has this technique been so adaptive and fitting as it is now. Take the title-track “Logos” for example, which ends the album on a note of confidence (and is my current vote for song of the year). The churning synths explode over a swing beat and descending bass line, all filtered through a garage rock lens. Cox’s vocals, picked up from some passing transmission, hang on to the beat like he’s experiencing slight lag time through his head phones. His verses curl and drag, adding and cutting syllables at the drop of a dime, all fueled by a bravado that makes it impossible to have it any other way.

As a man with such an efficient connection between his ideas and his process, we loose the courtesy of presentation, but in it’s place we gain the opportunity to witness occasional moments of phenomena that only flows when you’ve desensitized yourself to the red recording light. Consequently, Logos has trouble holding on to a cohesive statement. Rather, each track seems to have been selected for how well it captured an individual mood. Birthed across the world in various studios, back stage at Deerhunter shows, hotel rooms, or forever lost locations, it plays more like a collection or anthology than an album. Cox seems to be utilizing a supposedly “baselined” music industry to take some risks on Logos, and I think everyone would benefit to try the same. If there’s one album you pay for this year, this should be it.

Logos in available October 22nd through Kranky Records, and is currently being supported by a tour with Broadcast.

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
Atlas Sound – Quick Canal (with Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier/Monade)
Atlas Sound – Logos

Alright, so rowdy new Kranky artist White Rainbow starts talking about Flying Saucer Attack and the golden age of space rock, and then Pauly Shore rolls through and asks him about his jams and they have a quick brodeo. No words, my friends, no words. Thanks to Porch of the Mystics for unearthing this most gnarly of vids, bud-dee.

FIST BUMP!

Actually, no… this is the most gnarly of vids. I hate that it’s called “The Worst Thing I Ever Saw On Public Access TV.” It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever seen outside The Spirit of Truth. Simply amazing. This dude is the best dude. 

Dream bill: Wolf Eyes, Jandek, Steverino, and the above gentleman (herein referred to as “hurdy gurdy bro,” as that is evidently the name of the instrument and of no relation to Donovan). So epic.

You may remember in our interview with Mr. Lockett Pundt last spring that he said he may play live, and if he did, he would try it in front of friends in Atlanta. Well, he’s done just that. Mucho propso to the Aquarium Drunkard to getting me hip to this recording from Tuesday night (originally posted at ol’ Bradford’s blog – Internet moves fast, ya’llz).

MP3 :::
Lotus Plaza – Live at the Eyedrum in Atlanta

Told ya the bootlegs would come fast. Yesterday’s Atlas Sound ATP set is provided below. Lots of new stuff, lots of jammage, lots of Bradford gabbin’ and trying to fix his shit on stage. Enjoy.

Also, my boi Nathaniel from IGIF is at All Tomorrows Parties NY right now (bastard) and he’s reporting that B Cox told the crowd later that night during the Deerhunter set that yesterday’s show will be the last for the group “in quite a while.” This might be disconcerting if you don’t consider the fact that “quite a while” in Deerhunter years probably means “a couple of months.” I’m sure attention will turn to Atlas Sound, Lotus Plaza, and whatever other side projects the dudes are instituting in the interim. Fear not (hopefully).

Logos is still set to come out on October 20, which will be a super Tuesday (new Tickley Feather and Do Make Say Think also drop that day), courtesy of muhfuckin’ Kranky. Considering how much free shit Bradford gives you, buy it when it’s out. Seriously, guys.

MP3 :::
Atlas Sound – All Tomorrows Parties, Kutscher’s, Monticello, NY, 9.12.09

It’s worth noting immediately that the Round Robin Tour – Deerhunter, No Age, and Dan Deacon performing “in the round,” as it’s called – was one of the best times I’ve had at a show in recent memory. The show was intense yet lighthearted, and loud as hell throughout. The music, in all aspects, was simply impeccable. Case in point: I walked into the show more or less liking No Age and Dan Deacon, but not really feeling either way about them. As far as I was concerned, I was there for Deerhunter and that’s that. However, with solid, incredible performances by every act, my attitude was altered about 15 minutes into the show.

Of course, the comfortable nature of Newport’s historic Southgate House, with its balcony seating, cheap drinks, good air circulation, and general professional level of production played no small part in this as well. There were four opening acts for the headlining threesome (zomg! unintentional pr0nz). So, by my arithmetic, seven different artists played – all of whom had varying instrumentation that was probably challenging to mic and mix. Yet there was absolutely no change-over time. You were treated to music non-stop from 8 p.m. doors to 1 a.m. curfew. Tickets for this show were $10. That’s value you don’t get much too often in these economic times. So bravo to Southgate House for keeping the tickets low and the music rolling without a hitch. I love this venue.

The first act was already performing on the ballroom floor by the time we made it in (the line slithered all the way up to York Street). It was a mostly-female noise group whose name I did not catch, and were not terribly remarkable anyway. But I hadn’t had a highball in me yet, so maybe I was just being Grouchy Jones.

White Rainbow played next, and he was the best of the four openers. A menacing one-man sound machine, White Rainbow plays it just like I like it – simple drones building up to loud washes of gentle oscillations. Then he rips a funky guitar line, loops it, and builds a technicolor wall of sound. It was very reminiscent of Growing, whom I oft spring chub for. I wish his set was longer than the alloted 15 or 20 minutes he played. He’s got a new club banger coming out on Kranky in October called New Clouds. No doubt that shit will be tight.

The crowd was really into one-man act Ed Schrader. I still can’t figure out how I feel about him. I guess that’s challenging performance art in practice? And if that’s the case, does that mean he’s “good” or “artistically relevant” (cue Hipster Runoff)? Dressed in his Heavens Gate best (all white), Schrader banged on a tom and throatily sang surreal lyrics in rockabilly fashion. And that was it – drum, voice, and inter-song banter and antics. I felt like I had a confundus charm cast upon me during the jam. I dunno, maybe it was cool. I went and grabbed a cocktail in the middle of it. Shit confused Bloggins.

Infinite Body, in theory, was good, but very taxing to listen to at the height of anticipation for “No Deachunter.” After two rather excitable openers and the funky fresh brain rape from White Rainbow, it was very difficult for me to enjoy light space drone that seemingly went nowhere (though L-Train said she enjoyed him the most of the four openers). His lights were cool, though.

At this point, it was already 10:30 p.m., but we did not wait long for Deuce D to appear first, then the ‘Hunters, then the two Bro Agers. The show began with a three act collaboration on Deerhunter’s “Cyrptograms.” It didn’t sound terribly different with the others’ input, but it was certainly fuller. No Age added extra drums and guitar to the song’s climaxes, and Deacon sprinkled electronic flourishes where applicable. After “Cryptograms,” the three acts began to take turns playing their songs in order -  No Age, then Deacon, then back to Deerhunter. Most of the show operated in this fashion, and that was just fine with us.

No Age was impressive. As mentioned, I liked No Age going in, but never found them anything to write home about – ya know, on record, the collective act as a general noisy punk group who ocassionally throw in ambient tracks for continuity. Live, they’re a different beast; a firey, snarky acid punk juggernaut. The band, as a duo, was chunky, full, and clear. It’s amazing what a little reverberation and amplication on the drum kit will do to up the ante. Each song they played was compact and succinct, ripping though much of Nouns, and keeping it all punk as fuck. They catalyzed a lot of crowd surfing, which is rather unusual at most of the shows I go to. You could cut the intensity with a knife. I see now why No Age is not overrated.

Deerhunter definitely delivered the goods. They kept the improvisation to a minimum compared with other bootlegs I’ve listened to, but hey, they were sharing the show. No time for dickin’ around with effects pedals. More importantly, Deerhunter has developed into a tighter entity over the years. The group certainly isn’t just a collection of studio dudes, they’ve got chops, too, and hearing the zenith of “Nothing Ever Happened” over thousands of watts was boisterous and Biblical. The band kept their set pretty Microcastle heavy, delivering the aforemtnioned, as well as “Cover Me/Agoraphobia,” and “Never Stops.” Though I would’ve enjoyed some deeper cuts – anything off of Turn It Up, Faggot or the latest Rainwater Cassette Exchange, it was awesome hearing the bombastic rendition of the title track off Fluorescent Grey:

Dan Deacon, perhaps unsurprisingly, was the showman of the evening. A veritable PT Barnum, Deacon decorated the stage with his various contraband – party lights, battery-powered flood lamps (for passing around the crowd), a trippy green skull staring into your soul – and ripped right in to his Future Shock synth assault, including the infamous “The Crystal Cat.” Antics abounded, including ample audience participation and human architecture experiments… like the one below. Unfortunately, the camera’s memory card was full during the song’s climax so the video cuts off. But you get the jist – a Dan Deacon show is basically a carnival (or a carnivale):

The show ended the way it began, with a everybody-gather-’round performance of No Age’s “Everybody’s Down.” If you’re familiar with the song, you know about its quite-loud dynamic. When the song kicked in after a minute and a half, six guitars, two drummers, and a madman behind a green skull and various analogue equipment extended the four-chord progression for over five minutes, with guitarist Randy Randall handing over his divining rod to the audience to let everyone else get a strum in. The bands were noticably having a blast, the crowd was ecstatic, vibes were good… I couldn’t think of a complaint if I was paid to… except maybe for being unable to figure out what Ed Schrader’s all about.

The seven date Round Robin tour ends tonight in Milwaukee, so if you’re in the SoWisc/Chicagoland area, make haste. It will be worth a scalper’s price if ya gotta.

Major industrial-sized props are due in the direction of mah boi Jim Lerza and Emily Crothers, who, after hearing about my recent camera issues and lack of funds, donated one for us to use. Secondly, Lana again came correct on the photo tip and snapped some of the best of the set, which are included below. If you like her stuff, visit her Flickr – dissonantobjective.

More photos after the jump.

YANP’s Matty J doin’ what he do:
The setup:

As a prodigal son of Burlington, Vermont, home to Ben & Jerry’s and *yaaaawn* Phish, it’s a goddamned miracle that Greg Davis isn’t churning out some rehashed hippie shit. On the contrary, Kranky’s Greg Davis is a student of a happier, warmer school of ambient music. Sublimely optimistic and viscerally beautiful, the just-released Mutually Arising, his first full length in seven years, is the summertime evening response to Tim Hecker’s and Keith Fullerton Whitman’s icier dronescapes.

As with most work in the modern classical/minimalist/drone genre, the album is meant to be enjoyed as a whole. However, the excerpt below should demonstrate what I’m talking about. “Hall of Pure Bliss” is just that – a canticle adoring the opening to a portal, or the soundtrack to sprouting flowers. Truly beautiful stuff.

Mutually Arising just dropped this week courtesy of Kranky.

For fans of:  Stars of the Lid, Tim Hecker, Labradford

MP3 :::
Greg Davis – Hall of Pure Bliss [excerpt]

The latest offering from Los Angeles based Nudge (not to be confused with The Nuge), As Good As Gone, is a slow-burning, beautiful record. As a quick introduction, Nudge is Paul Dickow of Strategy, Honey Owens, best known for her contributions to Jackie O Motherfucker (whom you know and love if you’re reading this blog), and Brian Foote, best known as the rad dude at Kranky who hooks me (and, consequently, you the reader) up with interviews and promo albums.

While the subterranean groove and minor key construction on As Good As Gone evoke a more haunting, nighttime-appropriate flavor, there’s also a visceral optimism that runs underneath the record’s seven songs like groundwater. Perhaps it’s the playfulness between genres and moods, or the freewheeling construction of the songs… or perhaps not all noise/post rock/freak psych kids like to make nihilistic records.

The opener “Harmo” makes a most unusual, extensive use of harmonica you’re likely to hear anytime soon, setting the stage for a delightfully disjointed psychedelic IDM canticle, ending in widely sweeping whispering vocals that blow through your headphones like sandstorms. “Two Hands” operates as sparse stoner rock – fluid, emphatic bass lines set the anchor for ride-heavy drumming, swirling wah guitar, and melodic, ominous vocals. “Burns Blue” cultivates the latter, spookier repertoire of Roky Erickson circa “May the Circle Remain Unbroken,” proving once again the importance of space in a song – sometimes it’s what you don’t play that cultivates the most expansive soundscape. Closer “Dawn Comes Light” is the type of gorgeous ethereal chant shanty in the vein of Jessica Bailiff, Charalambides, and Fontanelle that made Kranky famous.

Nudge’s As Good As Gone lies as a cross-section between ambient, electronic, psychedelic, and (loosely speaking) pop, and handles all approaches with panache. It’s good stuff. As Good As Gone drops on September 7 courtesy of Kranky. (Preorder)

For fans of:  Cloudland Canyon, Flying Saucer Attack, Indian Jewelry

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
Nudge – Two Hands