Austin-based label Kill Red Rockets is a humanitarian effort, providing a wealth of free shit. They currently host a killer (pun intended) compilation on their website available for free download called Jesus in Space made up almost entirely of good stateside shoegaze, dream pop, fucked electro, and ethereal meditations with teeth. The comp is packed with artists readers of this blog will be familiar with (Oblisk, Ceremony, Dead Leaf Echo), and many more that I’m not familiar with at all and will take measures to correct.  The nefariously titled Bloody Knives (pictured above) is one that stuck out. “Hands Around My Neck,” included below for a taste, is quality acid punk with a slight synth edge at its finest and most crafty – basically what M83 could’ve done had they not decided, on their own volition, to suck a big one after the Dead Seas set. 8-bit shoegaze hath been reared.

Quality abounds on this massive set, so no matter what else happens, go download this compilation right now and know that you’ve done at least one radical thing today.

To celebrate the compilation and generation awesomeness of the KRR community, the dudes are throwing a big SXSW party in Austin. Thursday March 18 and Friday March 19, Kill Red Rockets will welcome 21 different acts from around the nation to play at, get this, an apartment complex with a giant pool. Wall of sound noise squalls… and a pool party. That sounds like some intergalactic MTV Spring Break/Beach House action. Where Dasiy Fuentes and Pauly Shore at? Oh, looks like Pauly Shore is over here hanging out with White Rainbow. Maybe they’ll both roll through.

Details on the festivities, as well as download sampler of everyone playing, are right here. This is a Kenny Bloggins-approved event, and that should hold some weight on your itinerary, for realz.

MP3 :::
Bloody Knives – Hands Around My Neck

From the people who brought you Disappears (well, not people, but city), comes two additional and excellent new groups who eschew the “the” in their project name, go for the jugular, and do it up verb-style. I can usually get behind that.

First on deck is Follows –  a brand new project featuring Mia Clarke of Electrelane on spooky throat duties, Tony Lazzara of Milemarker, Colin DeKuiper of Russian Circles, and Eric Chaleff from bands that I am unfortunately not familiar with. “Black Black Rose” is an excellent primer for the dark territories in which Follows were reared, and reminds me a bit of a stripped down, mid tempo, and frightening Stereolab with a post-rock slant. The unencumbered sonic foreboding and minimal, gnarled, snakey guitar attack within this jam is perfect for a drive though nuclear winter. No full length or EP available just yet – only a demo preview, available for you to check out. The day of reckoning is neigh, so be prepared when Follows rolls up to your town in a horse drawn caravan with survival foods. Fans of Mogwai, Pram, and Indian Jewelry, listen up.

Next, meet Implodes. Just as dark and scary as Follows, with silky swells of fuzz rather than doom-invoking space as their weapon of choice. Think Flying Saucer Attack, but replace the serenity with paranoia. More upbeat than, say, Bardo Pond, but just as terrifying, Implodes put a new spin on shoegaze, keeping the melodies within the Hollow Earth rather than letting them soar like many dream pop bands are wont to do.  So I guess it isn’t just a clever name, amirite? Bad vibes are the new good vibes, and Implodes is spearheading this, along with a very nice budding shoegaze movement coming out of Chicago. Perhaps the Windy City will be the next Thames Valley? Stay tuned to The Decibel Tolls to find out!

Follow Follows amongst the MySpaces here, and Implodes lurk around these parts.

MP3 :::
Follows – Black Black Rose
Implodes –  Meadowlands

I make no bones about the fact that I’m a moron. Exhibit M (or wherever we are in this real time demonstration), I start cleaning out my old email, and find a message from October of 2008. That’s Q4 of ‘08. This was during the second Bush administration, mind you. Stamps were 42 cents. Billy Mays was still alive and selling me on cleaning solutions I used on a weekly basis.

Yeah, so that was a while ago. Sorry dudes. Regardless, the message from Panda Riot caught my eye and I checked it out. Liked it very much. Liked it so much that the PR firm that employs me picked them up too (just a full disclosure). Anyway, the Chicago collective gives off a thick vibe blast of second wave dream pop vibes a la The Stratford 4 and The Eaves (though perhaps more informed by Velocity Girl), packed with restrained and hypnotic analog electronic flourishes and sugar siren meets punchy Spector-esque post doo-wop vocals. And their name is Panda Riot. Ya know what I mean:

But of course they’re on MySpazz, so see about ‘em. Additionally, I’m very happy to premiere this track off their forthcoming EP Far and New.

MP3 :::
Panda Riot – Streetlights and You and Me

You can place Serena Maneesh into a number of columns, but neogaze is not one of them. Their 2005 eponymous record hinted at a band on the verge of realizing their sound, and Abyss in B-Minor is the result of such ephiphanies. Abyss in no way resembles a rehashing of my favorite movement in rock music. Sure, the essential elements are there – hall reverb, dynamic loudness, a blend of ambience and pop sensibility, blurred album art, and all the general ad infinitum shoegaze/dream pop reference points. However, there’s an intrinsic punk-informed aura about the group. They eschew the trends that defined the tongue-in-cheek shoegaze term. There’s no detachment, no navel staring, no aloofness – Serena Maneesh is a rough around the edges, delightfully gutteral collective. They will beat your ass. If you don’t believe that, exhibit A: they recorded this album in a cave outside Oslo. However, outside the album’s epic bookends, Abyss in B-Minor is a body of pop songs, and each one is deceivingly brutal under the shimmering surface. If you could strip away the nasty gale of noise and fuzz that I imagine the apocalypse would sound like, you could possibly play this record around your folks. But since that’s not the case, I don’t recommend it.

Unlike that Raveonettes album that (actually) was entirely in B Minor, Serena Maneesh is all over the place. You’ve already been treated to the bubblegum pop of “I Just Want to See Your Face,” but the following track “Reprobate!” really showcases what makes this band great, demonstrating their sweet and sour technique. The vocals are crystalline, delicate, almost gossamer, yet backed with a wailing squall of noise that’s more apropos to a Wolf Eyes jam session than a traditional dream pop love song. “Melody For Jaana” recalls early Slowdive without replicating it – the band’s visceral harshness still runs afoot even in slower, more ambient numbers. “Honeyjinx” is one of the more interesting moments on Abyss, a song that wavers between dissonance, Swans-style dungeon doom rock, a soaring vocal pseudo-chorus, and a pastiche of electronic snippets as the composition implodes on itself. Intriguing and enjoyable. “Blow Yr Brains In the Morning Rain” captures an uncharacteristic (for these guys) sloppy garage aesthetic and juxtaposes it against a celestial sheen and panning, layered rhythms. “D.O.W.S.W.T.T.D.” shows the band at its most synth-driven, while “Magdalena” ends the album with flutes and surprisingly sunny vibes for a sect of Scandinavian individuals. See? All over the place.

As a whole, Abyss in B-Minor is much more song-focused than their self-titled release, though also a little less cohesive. However, the craftiness in which Serena Maneesh can swing in and out of moods and tones like a sine wave is both jarring and exciting, separating Abyss from previous efforts (not to mention other newgaze groups) and marking a more mature and complex album. Expect to see Serena Maneesh placed among the best of the year.

Abyss in B-Minor is out on 4AD on March 23.

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
Serena Maneesh – Reprobate

Dude… last week was shit. We found out that our largest (and rather legendary) independent music retailer, ear X-tacy, might be closing their doors. We also found out that our Six Flags will definitely be closing its doors (miss you wave pool). And to top it all off, I’ve been trying to quit smoking. Fuck, it’s a horrible experience that I don’t recommend! If you’re a non-smoker, don’t start. If you already do, keep the smoke stack churnin’ because quitting is psychologically destructive and sucks major dick. I’ve been having dreams reminiscent of the last five minutes of Eraserhead and shit. So, needless to say, things are not well with our hero.

To that end, I’m very thankful that Deep Space Recordings is around to provide me with my fix. Check the glory that is The Fauns (not to be confused with The Fonze, which I could not put up with right now). The Fauns come to us from the motherland of shoegaze, The UK (though their hometown of Bristol is more known for their beats than their beats in space). Not only is this original-yet-true-to-canon shimmering and subdued ethereal pop awesome, it’s awesome sounding. The resonant low end and thick tones on “Lovestruck” are as much of a joy to hear as the song itself. And… that’s all that really needs to be said about it. Sure, I spent most of this entry talking more about contextual and tertiary details that are in no way relevant to The Fauns. But dude, this anecdotal evidence is all you really need to know… I was bumming, this song turned my frown the fuck upside down, and it’s massive and beautiful. So have a listen below, venture to Deep Space Recordings to hear more streaming audio and look at The Fauns’ stash (as well as other fine artists), and we’ll talk again soon. Laters.

MP3 :::
The Fauns – Lovestruck

Ashes Grammar was absolutely fantastic, though a little fragmented with the myriad of ambient interludes. The newfound conciseness and cohesiveness explored on Nitetime Rainbows showcases a band with a vision. The melodies are more unique and focused this time around. A Sunny Day in Glasgow is not simply a revisiting of the glory days of dream pop – they have firmly established themselves as heavy fucking hitters in the theme of ethereal anthems, with the electronic scheme that throws their atmospherics solidly into the future (or retro future perhaps). I’m very much looking forward to the next full-length, but for the time being, Nitetime Rainbows is packed with awesome new music and three remixes of “Nitetime Rainbows” worth your time and headspace (including one from the mighty Benoit Pioulard).

Nitetime Rainbows is out March 2, and you can grip it physically or digitally at the band’s website along with live MP3s and other excellent goodies that cool and smart bands provide.

MP3 :::
File removed per request

The first awesome album of 2010 is about to drop from a group of guys you’re probably not familiar with. Hopefully that changes soon. Meet The N.E.C., an acronym for Natural Extension Concept. Their shit is enlightened. The group’s 10″ EP was listed in our Year End List 2009, wherein The N.E.C. was referred to as “the southern response to No Age.” That’s a good reference point, as is fellow Atlantans Deerhunter, though The N.E.C. maintains a more acute and strictly defined approach to space punk.

The N.E.C. has concocted a beautiful, cohesive album with Is, and the only disappointment is its brevity (mas roca, por favor)! Laced with pervasive, dub-like tape echo, atomic shoegaze tonality, loose song structures with gritty production, violent monolithic reverb, ambient explorations, snakey riffs, and an overall melodic sheen, The N.E.C.’s retro futuristic garage psych is distinct yet familiar.

“It’s Right,” within a minute and a half, lets you know where The N.E.C.’s loyalties lie, and they fight fervently on the side of Echoplex, complemented with triumphant percussion, total decibel damage, and guitars so crunchy that gallons of Korova milk couldn’t make that shit soggy. The epic “Dead of Night” explores various strata – everything from fuzzy dream pop to classic dust-swept garage rock to noise in under three minutes, ending with an explosion of skull-crushing… bells. You gotta hear it.

This band is awesome. This record is awesome. And the passive voice is always on point. Is is available at the group’s website. Go see about it. If Is is not RIAA-certified gold by the beginning of Q3 this year, I’m calling shenanigans on all you dorks.

For fans of:  No Age, Spacemen 3, Nothing People

Fagen-Becker Quality Rating

MP3 :::
The N.E.C. – It’s Right
The N.E.C. – Dead of Night

Nightmare pop is the term I’ll coin for The Grimlets. This isn’t suggesting that it’s a nightmare to listen to (the xx gets that distinction… ick). No, The Grimlets are firmly housed in the dream pop sector, paying homage to classic 4AD and Creation artists, with soaring siren vocals and reverb saturated, chorus-heavy jangle. However, there’s something spooky and foreboding within “Glass Lips.” Perhaps it’s the masterful use of sonic space or the icy, candlelit timbre voice as the music’s centerpiece, or perhaps The Grimlets are actually kinda evil.

So while the group prefers the term “maudlin hyphy,” I think I like nightmare pop. Regardless, this is good shizz – have a listen below. Grimcore is available for free download at the artist website.

For fans of:  Cocteau Twins, early Slowdive, Pale Saints

MP3 :::
The Grimlets – Glass Lips

Time again for the obligatory year end list. However, ours is a bit different than others you may have seen. For example, this list is not enumerated. Empirically ranking albums rather trivializes the music, yes? Nor is the list in any particular order, save for the fact that we assembled it based loosely on aesthetics – meaning, we encourage you to mash on the little javascript media player in the bottom left-hand corner and enjoy our best-of picks as a mixtape or an uninterrupted block of music. Not only is this a fine collection of altered states laments, but each and every one of these albums is better than the Grizzly Bear borecore collection. Believe it!

>>>>> FAVORITE ALBUMS OF 2009
The full length jam hives that we found the most innovative, intriguing, enjoyable, or all of the above.

Outside Trish Keenan’s traditional channeling of Margo Guryan and The United States of America and Julian House’s spooky samples, it’s hard to distinguish where Broadcast ends and The Focus Group begins. The collaboration is seamless and ornate, and is a strong addition to the flawless curriculum vitae for both Broadcast and The Focus Group. The Be Colony | Review

Did you know ambient music can be funky? When White Rainbow drops the tablas on his bliss outs, it’s time to hit the floor. All the Boogies in the World [excerpt] | Review

A more optimistic and concise effort, yet still saturated with her signature melted synths, junky keyboards, cough syrup vocals, and general underwater timbre, Hors D’oeuvres finds Tickley Feather as the compromise between Movietone and Ariel Pink. Trashy Boys | Review

Explosive dream pop with a slight electro edge, A Sunny Day in Glasgow burn the best sounds of Flying Saucer Attack and Cocteau Twins together in the same white-washed celestial head stew. Failure

A west coast sludgy summoner of stoner rock, Nothing People’s Late Nite is a less spastic and noisy sophomore effort, straddling the median tremolo-saturated, syrupy acid rock and shoegaze – another definitive post-millennial primer for more ominous trips down the rabbit hole. It’s Not Your Speakers | Review

Songs of Shame is more extroverted and less antiquated than 08’s At Rear House, and is pushed out of the womb with such fervor that I can finally get behind the strained falsetto, Elliott Smith experiencing zipper-trouble vocals. Gypsy Hand | Review

More and more artists are paying homage to Thoreau lately and recording their music in the midst of a hermetic retreat. Many return with nothing more than a bruised ego and a full beard. Damon McMahon returned with Dia after his pilgrimage in 2006 to the Catskill Mountains. Both insular and cavernous, this debut LP is an uninhibited trek through McMahon’s psychedelic mindscapes. Patagonian Domes | Review

The aural equivalent of an Ektachrome dusk, Lockett Pundt proves himself as Deerhunter’s understated force and the the undeniable ying to Bradford Cox’s yang, pinpointing exactly where and how the band gets its balmy, sedated atmosphere. A gorgeous second-wave shoegaze statement. A Threaded Needle | Review

Reverberated fuzzy guitars, punchy rhythm, a shoegaze aesthetic, totally damaging heaviness, and a touch of retro chic on acid – Chicago’s Disappears are everything that’s great about rock and roll. They lit a fire under my ass so severe that I still keep the Solarcaine stocked. Hearing Things | Review

Phantom Family Halo’s sprawling 2LP post-apocalyptic lament is evil and would make you think Louisville is a scary place or something. While the entire body of work can be classified as psych garage rock or acid rock, the record’s all over the place within the parameters of brain melting. A bit of Boards of Canada style ambient explorations here, a bit of krautrock motorik rhythms by way of Faust there… and then insanely reverberated crunchy guitars ascend from the primordial ooze scary enough to make Fever Ray poo her trou. These dudes are sonic warriors. Child of Light | Review

Phased surf guitar working and a dejected tropical attitude operate in tandem with autumnal acoustic overtones and gossamer melodies to produce something along the lines of a slacker Yo La Tengo. Fake Blues | Review

City Center was probably recorded underwater. I’m not sure how Fred Thomas did this without shorting out his gear, but this record’s precise aquatic timbre and dark reverb could’ve only been achieved submerged. Another gold star for the sampsycore camp. Bleed Blood | Review

Ever since Scratch Perry lost his goddamn mind, we’ve needed someone to don the dub crown. We nominate Sun Araw. The Message | Review

New Zealander Annabelle Alpers’ debut for Drag City, and second proper album, has been described by a couple of writers as a sort of quirky “bedroom pop.” I wholeheartedly disagree. My Electric Family is expansive, radical, and ionospheric. Packed with reverb, sweeping moods, and surrealistic lyrical motifs, Bachelorette is way too large for any bedroom. It also has a hypnotic quality so acute and permeating that we can safely say that Alpers has invented “cult pop.” The National Grid | Review

The Columbus total damage trio makes Robert Pollard look like Phil Spector. Punk as fuck. And underneath all the shit – great pop songs. Hustler, Psycho, Son

If there’s anyone that can remove the fashion-conscious aspect of noise-pop that creates filler and polarizes bands like Wavves, it would probably be a bunch of kids in their basement playing to no audience. Recently championed by Psychedelic Horseshit as “the greatest band in the country,” Fungi Girls are these kids, and they’re surprisingly more nihilistic and creeping than most of the recent shitgaze bands who paved the way for them. Crystal Roads | Review

True-to-cannon heavy shoegaze with a cavernous and dramatic eastern flair, all focused through the ominous looking-glass of their native Detroit. Tiger Fighter | Review

Gentle fingerpicking, bright tonal sprays of analog synths, and an impeccable ear for vocal melody holds every song on Childish Prodigy. A disciple of both Neil Young and R. Stevie Moore, Vile’s amalgamation of influences is arresting in both its musical scope and bravado. All the while, Vile’s signature, a bourbon-soaked Avey Tare croon with a shot of impenetrable confidence, steers and unites this eclectic, cohesive work. Inside Lookin’ Out | Review

While the Bolt hasn’t exactly gone verse-chorus-verse on us just yet, the newfound tightness Earthly Delights is much more structured and, at times, almost hummable compositions. That is not to say that LB has lost any edge, but simply that Earthly Delights throws a little Occam’s Razor into the mix. The group’s opting to keep their disposition a bit simpler and less freeform. Transmissionary | Review

Dream folk like “Criminals” makes Logos a good album. Epic motorik anthems mixed in, a la Cox’s collaboration with Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier on “Quick Canal,” make Logos a great album. Quick Canal | Review

While the subterranean groove and minor key construction evoke a more haunting, nighttime-appropriate flavor, there’s also a visceral optimism that runs underneath the LP like groundwater. Perhaps it’s the playfulness between genres and moods, or the freewheeling construction of the songs… or perhaps not all noise/freak psych kids like to make nihilistic records. Not to be confused with The Nuge. Two Hands | Review

While some of her recent work has adopted a more intimate and traditional folk approach, A Ways Away is lush, weird, and engrossing. Psych folk is the closest reference point, yet TJO is also entirely something else. In a way, A Ways Away is a return to form and a maturation. The crafty utilization of space and syrupy slow tempo is reminiscent of the Louisville scene in which she came, while at the same time, TJO is fully owning her sound. The result is a beautiful and accessible work that relishes in desolate sounds and bucolic late night wandering. Beast, Go Along | Review

Strongest effort from this definitive freak folk collective since Cathedral, and certainly the most ominous of his career and a textbook example of brilliant use of sonic space. Sometimes it’s the notes you don’t play. On Beginning

Scary-ass Bjork releases a spacious and minimal analog electronic creeper that’s better than The Knife, and comes equipped with the best/funniest lyrics penned in quite some time. Still can’t listen to this shit at night without getting all paranoid in my head tech. When I Grow Up

Closer in spirit to experimental figures of yesterday like Moondog and Bernard Herrmann than current artists, Marc Richter seems dead set on completely disorienting our frame of reference. Richter does manage to arrive at moments of extremely cinematic avant-garde music that’s unlike much we’ve ever heard before. Rauschen | Review

Even in an increasingly noise-tolerant music culture, this is an adventurous listen, and that alone should have your earbuds watering by now. Auto Dimmer | Review

Ducktails masterfully crafted an album with a lulled but not quite hypnotizing quality, similar to the nature documentary sound that Boards of Canada achieve, with occasional lo-fi tape tinkering like on “Backyard,” with its phased bucket-toms and Robert Fripp inspired distortion shifting. Beautiful. Dancing With the One You Love | Review

Bird-Brains is completely demented and angular, kinda like Xiu Xiu, but without treading the blurry line between “artistic vision” and “sonic bullshit” that Mr. Stewart always straddled firmly. Everything from dub to yoddeling finds itself on what I’d guess you could call a kitchen sink freak folk album. Whatever it is, this shit is gospel. Fiya | Review

We’re very pleased to hear that, seemingly, the band is taking acid again. Worm Mountain

Mind altering modulating jungle boogie bogged down on purple drank and tribal bangin’ replete with sinister ragas and general skulduggery, Mirror Eye is one of the more pleasantly evil releases reared in ‘09. Eyes Closed | Review

Dragon Turtle’s debut, Almanac, is an expansive 45-minute trek that explores an alternating fear and awe of the natural world, and everything in between. They didn’t pack lightly either, hoarding a curious mix of folk, kraut rock, post rock, and small touches of calypso. Belt of Venus | Review

The massive arsenal of antique analog equipment that defined BMSR’s first three albums remains in tact – the vocoder-saturated vocals of Tobacco, the thick and swirling novatrons and mellotrons that cultivated a general feeling of sunshine and old 8mm films about nature, etc. However, Eating Us showcases a more organic band, incorporating more acoustic instrumentation and mellow moods without disregarding the group’s traditional glitchy, Technicolor timbre. Iron Lemonade | Review

The original keyboardist from Broadcast peaks out from his lair to release another fantastic testament for Ghost Box who, like Motown and Creation, created a whole new aesthetic in music. Roj has distinguished himself as the tinty, rhythmic, retro-futuristic sci fi voice in hauntology. What I Saw

Super positive rural psychedelia best experienced with peace pipe in hand and vision quest in front. Made from warm tape excursions from them to you. Feels good to vibe this hard. All the Good Songs Have Been Written

The girls’ new album Fraushaus! has one foot in the shit-gaze movement and another recalling the gleaming-amateur looseness of the Shaggs, complimented by unexpected touches of found sounds and flea-market synths. Round Vox | Review

>>>>> FAVORITE EPs OF 2009
Though no longer than 20 minutes a piece, these nuggets of joy deserve some mention

There are certain sounds synonymous with the Summer of Love, but what about the winter that followed? Bronx trio Pigeons have a decent guess in mind. Their account of classic psychedelia is a much colder affair than most’. Stringing together a bizarrely addictive mix of paranoia, mystery, and seduction, their new tape-splintered 7? Lunettes is something I could only describe as psych-noir. Tendress | Review

No Age demonstrates here, moreso than Nouns, a mastering of their craft in profound ways. They’re no longer trying to capture the sound of My Bloody Valentine’s early EPs. They’re becoming completely their own thing – dream punk. Losing Feeling

The Philly subterranean brooding fuzz plus flute collective does no wrong, and their contribution to the Three Lobed subscription series is no exception. Do you know what a Bardo Pond is? Me neither, but it’s probably where God kills Republicans. The Path

We could tell the girls of Pocahaunted were getting antsy when they started injecting dub and dance hall elements into their trademark campfire drone sessions on last year’s Island Diamonds. To remedy this, they’ve teamed up with members of Sun Araw, Robedoor, Magic Lantern, and Fantastic Ego to ditch the delay pedals in favor of some wah-wah. Honeycomb | Review

Sloppy yet lush psychedelic punk that hits hard. Consider Atlanta’s The N.E.C. the southern response to No Age. Old Medicine

Lush arrangements, non-grating noise walls, and oceanic melodies, Banjo or Freakout is the tech-savvy, post-millennial incarnation of Slowdive. Looking forward for the full-length! Like You

Super retro, super cinematic crunchy garage stomp with interstellar overtones, dramatic turns, and harshed mellows. Blood on the Sand is exactly what is sounds like – beach times gone wrong, Weekend at Bernies style. Blood on the Sand

Ovals & Emeralds is full of disorienting growths of sublime field recordings, toy-chest noises, and coarse synths. Bibio’s signature creekside guitar is barely present, but here he has crafted his ambient work to equal perfection. The sun goes down on his usual idyllic pastoralism to bring out a bleaker landscape with a slightly menacing air to it like the meditations of Wolfgang Voigt. Carosello Ellitico | Review

Not to be cliche, but no other piece of music partied like it was 1879 harder than the vinyl-only issue Among the Gold. Silver Threads | Review

No, The Books didn’t take the bad pills. Lucky Dragons are the jovian trance music of the century after next. With woodwinds. Power Melody

>>>>> FAVORITE REISSUES/COMPILATIONS OF ‘09
Our ten favorite that needed to be heard again

Everything you all do is amazing. Great job! Keep ‘em coming. Fans of weird field recordings and anthropologists owe you a big batch of homemade cookies at the very least. Night Recordings From Bali – Peliatan Night Walk

Honest Jon’s compilation of 1920s Iraqi recordings is truly a gem, but it’s not for everyone. It isn’t the type of “world music” employed for NPR bumper music or in the living rooms of people who like to feel “cultured.” Documenting very otherworldly dance and, for lack of a better word, Middle Eastern blues music, these recordings were remastered from some of the earliest 78s ever pressed. This disc features ardent vocal performances over violin, hand percussion, an occasional lute, and not much else, relying more on raw performances that, at times, resemble a prophetic view of west coast folk and free jazz. Badria Anwar – Lega Taresh Habibi

While their timeline coincides with New York’s no wave movement, their Deutsche no wave is something else entirely. Amalgamating the dadaist cool and nervous energy of Suicide, their homeland’s motorik rhythm, the loud and detuned psychedelics of Spacemen 3 (whom 39 Clocks actually predate), the organ-as-diving-rod experimental pop ethos of Silver Apples, and a Nuggets-ready proto-punk punch, the mensch of 39 Clocks chew up kraut and psychedelic subsets and spit them out into a ball of drug-riddled prophecy and rock and roll shenanigans. Dom Electricity Elects the Rain | Review

A lot of people complain about Kraftwerk, saying “oh, I can do that.” Yeah, well, they did it first, and you didn’t. Everything between Autobahn and The Man Machine rules hard and sounds beautiful, so shut the fuck up. It’s worth mentioning, and perhaps is a bit ironic, that the sound of Kraftwerk is slightly more powerful with the analog recordings, if for no other reason than to provide a timeframe. How ’bout that? Regardless, it’s nice to have all their best work in one place and sounding awesome. Antenna

The landmark 1972 record that should’ve included them in the same sentence as Faust, Can, and Neu, but for some reason didn’t. Perhaps it was because they sounded too much like Blue Cheer? Either way, Kanguru’s reverence is long overdue. Oxymoron

You put Boards of Canada, Aphex Twin, and Broadcast on the same release, and it’ll end up on a best-of somewhere on this blog. Like the Movern Collar soundtrack, but without the shitty movie that accompanies it. Boards of Canada – Amo Bishop Rodan

Believe it or not, Califone was Tim Rutili’s calmer project compared with Red Red Meat’s shit-blues zenith Bunny Gets Paid. Rosewood, Stax, Volts, and Glitt

This band was awesome. You can talk about how rad [insert hawt buzzband here] is until you’re blue in the face. But guess the fuck what. The Beatles did it first. Thanks for playing. While the only difference I can tell between the Remasters and the original is the volume, MagiMystour always gets royal treatment on this blog. Flying

The Vaselines were one mighty contradiction – a massive sound crafted by only two people, double entendre lyrics sung with coyness, gritty production and sloppy instrumentation coupled with truly soaring, gorgeous melodies – this duo was a real gem. Lovecraft | Review

A combination of bad timing, arguments with the label over the band’s presentation (namely, well, their name), and a generally ill-prepared state of music allowed this missing-link of punk rock to fall through the cracks until Drag City intervened this year. A remarkably well-aged time capsule of hefty hooks and driving power, For the Whole World to See is a blistering proto-punk artifact. You’re a Prisoner | Review

Deerhunter are generous motherfuckers, especially this weekend. The band’s blog not only posted a bootleg of (what I think is) Lotus Plaza’s second live show in Atlanta, but we were also treated to the very first recorded evidence of Deerhunter – a CD-R called Carve Your Initials. It’s much more electronic than any of their latter stuff, and seemingly was recorded after a few hits of acid. Maybe not, but it’s delightfully fucked. “Snow Dogs” is particularly awesome, in part because the jam reminds me of my favorite Cuba Gooding Jr. flick. You can grip the whole guy here.

So yeah, in case you weren’t aware, now you know. Enjoy.

ZIP :::
Lotus Plaza – Eyedrum, Atlanta, 12.11.09

MP3 :::
Deerhunter – Snow Dogs
Deerhunter – Three Dolphins Melting Into Orange Wax