I’m making it my personal mission, my top task on the action items list, to spread the gospel of Detroit quartet Oblisk. This is an amazing new band that, no exaggeration, might be the best American shoegaze group (and it’s gritty shoegaze) these ears have ever heard. I will do everything in my power to make sure these guys sell billions of records, and it’s a goddman travesty that this is not the case.
Anyway, there’s no need for any sort of overlong, overhyperbolic review for Oblisk’s Weather Patterns, despite the fact I’m wont to do such. The brass tacks of the matter is that Oblisk has crafted an absolutely beautiful record that both travels at high speeds above the troposphere and slithers within cracks in the earth. It’s odd in many ways that Oblisk hails from a decaying industrial metropolis. Sure, the minor keys, grimey fuzz, distant tones, and distorted vocals suggest a bit of an ominous environment. But Weather Patterns is packed with mystique and excitement – a record that wonders and wanders.
Oblisk’s loyalties are outlined with a line in the sand – this is new psychedelia. That is to say, this is not a group rehashing flower power like the Paisley Underground did. Oblisk is a group that synthesizes what’s good in psychedelia and adds an opaque gloss. Weather Patterns evokes pure Spiritualized-informed space rock, kraut a la Amon Duul, a touch of post-punk, darkly veiled and midtempo pop-oriented shoegaze in the vein of Medicine and Slowdive, and eastern mysticism (best exemplified on instrumental “Blue Iceberg”).
The epic “Tiger Fighter,” and I’m calling this right now, is the “Leave Them All Behind” of this decade. It’s fucking gorgeous and I don’t want to ruin it by yapping on about it. The song is available below along with one other sample (and it took me forever to narrow down my selection for sharing to two because the album is sick).
Big day at the blog office. We’ve heard two amazing records just today, which is amazing considering that all three of us are total haters – the new Lotus Plaza, and this mysterious offering from a massive cluster of trans-Atlantic musicians called Flowers of Hell.
I don’t care if no one told these guys that it’s not the late ’90s anymore and post rock is no longer en vogue and/or what the kids are listening to these days. Fuck the kids. The Flowers of Hell’s Come Hell or High Water is one of the sickest, most moving collection of songs I’ve heard in some time, and is unequivocally the first great album of 2009.
Actually, that’s not fair. Flowers of Hell are not exactly post rock in the strictest sense. Sure, the music is instrumental and tends to gravitate toward tension-and-release compositions. Make no mistake, though, there’s a fresh, revelatory element in their sound. I saw someone describe the record as “classical music for shoegazers,” and I have to agree.
“Opus 66″ opens the record right, taking a few pages out of the Do Make Say Think book, cultivating a crescendo that you could only measure in axehandles. All the ingredients for chamber rock is here – strings, piano, lots of reverb, tremolo-saturated guitar, et al. Where Flowers of Hell carve their niche, though, is the incorporation of electronic flourishes and psychedelic boogie reminiscent of Spiritualized’s mid-career work. This makes sense, as good ol’ Sonic Boom performs on the album – not to mention members of British Sea Power, Bat For Lashes, Broken Social Scene, John Cale’s touring band, The Earlies, Guided By Voices, The Clientele, Do Make Say Think, The Hidden Cameras, The Ecstasy Of Saint Theresa, Tindersticks, The Early Years, and the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. To add to the general radar blip this group exudes, band member and producer Greg Jarvis is a synaesthetic. Something to the effect of 3% of the world’s population has this gift: “The composing, recording, arranging, and mixing of Come Hell Or High Water was done largely by following timbre-to-shape synaesthetic visions. Synaesthesia is a neurological phenomenon where two senses are intermingled… With timbre-to-shape synaesthesia, sounds involuntarily trigger a translucent visual layer of moving shapes which follow a consistent audio-visual language. ‘I see sounds,’ explains Jarvis, ‘When I hear sounds, I see each timbre in front of me as shapes that follow patterns, often gliding, pulsing, and swirling with the rhythm and timing interlocking them all. Each timbre behaves differently, and that’s the main reason we’ve got such a variety of instruments on this album.’”
“The Inovcation” adopts a tribal rhythm with vintage electronic pings and pulses in the vein of the BBC Radiophone Workshop. “The Strength of String” is pure cinematic score – the foreboding mood of Morricone, but with a lot more melodic quality. “Bleumschen” ropes in a Faust/Neu motorik meets Loop-style fuzz sludge climax that totally slays me. Well-placed moments of dissonance (i.e. “Forest of Noise”) are peppered throughout the record as well, helping to establishing an overall experience as jarring as it is pleasant. The minimal beauty of Mogwai’s EP+2 is stretched across a full band canvas on album closer “Occasional Tears.” Considering the amount of musicians involved – 16 total – expect to hear a little bit of everything, including but not limited to: chamber pop, post rock, space, ambient, drone, and heavy fuckin’ metal. Basically, you’re an asshole if you don’t like Come Hell or High Water.
And zounds! Czech this video. The 8mm projections in this live performance really add the visual ambience that I wish more artists offer. I think this was recorded from their opening set for My Bloody Valentine. I might be wrong. Either way, my evening would’ve been a lot of better if the Flowers opened for MBV’s Chicago show instead of that shitty-ass Hopewell band.
Not to sound lame, but The Flowers of Hell offer everything I, personally, enjoy in my music. Fuck guitar solos, fuck wankery – make your music sound awesome. Sure, it’s nothing that you haven’t heard before, but Flowers of Hell offer the lush soundscapes, thick melodies, panned psychedelia known in the state of California to cause brain melting, and movements that, I would say, are rather triumphant.
Come Hell or High Water is out April 6 in Canada/The UK. Can’t tell if it will be available in the states or not, but you can grip it here.
One of the best compliments you can receive as a musician is the notion of irritating music writers. The Dead C has always been one of the most difficult groups to describe. Like many psych rippers and no wavers, much of the Dead C’s repertoire specializes in noise and structure breakdown. But simply labeling it as noise is shortsighted, as the Dead C operates as more of an improv group. There’s always been “structure,” more or less, and if you listen closely, the Dead C often comes across as a damaged Spacemen 3, Space Needle, or other fuzz-heavy, post-punk-informed groups with the word “space” somewhere. There are solid songs throughout, always head warping, and always fed through multiple demonic filters to cultivate that otherworldly presence. Continue reading ‘Navigating the Dead C’
Since it’s Halloween week, and I always associate Orson Wells’ War of the Worlds broadcast with the holiday, it seemed like a decent time for posting proper on some Simply Saucer. Though their name sounds like an item you might pick up at your nearby intergalactic grocery stop, their astral psychedelic garage transmissions more than make up for poor title decisions (I mean, their quintessential album is titled Cyborgs Revisited… Ridley Scott, you own them some royalties, dudebro).
The influences are obvious – early Floyd, 13th Floor Elevators, the Velvets’ “Sister Ray,” Delay 68 Can, Electric Prunes, et al., but whereas those groups fine-tuned their sound and still maintained a compositionally tight feel despite their freewheeling image, Simply Saucer had no interest in aesthetic. Every song sounds as if it was recorded live with cheap tape recorders. Its gorgeously raw sound and low-end clipping mix gives Simply Saucer extra (possibly unintended) atmosphere. It’s too bad that Simply Saucer was never known too far outside their native Ontario, as they really captured, at least in my mind’s eye, the archetypal ’60s/early ’70s psych movement from a candid, outsider perspective. Being removed from what was happening in England and the West Coast is totally an asset to Cyborgs Revisited. Continue reading ‘Revisiting Simply Saucer’s Cyborgs Revisited’
I want to talk about my email for a sec [kb (at) thedecibeltolls.com]. Chuck Klosterman once said that music critique is basically being paid to read your mail. That’s pretty accurate, and in many ways, that was the largest chunk of my job as a talent buyer at the music venue. I miss doing such work, despite the funky hours, so I enjoy getting mail from publicists and label reps. These letters provide two outcomes, depending on if the publicist is good at his/her job: 1) point you in the direction of artists that will pique your interest, or 2) provide some serious lol time, such as “Rilo Kiley fans – take delight.” Have you read this blog? I rag on that shit daily. I understand this, of course, as music promotion is often throwing spaghetti against a wall – just launch your name everywhere, and see what sticks. However, sometimes these corrospondences point me in the direction of some bands I dig, and if you’re reading the blog, you’ll dig as well. Case in point…
Today, I’m happy to present The Great Northwest. And following the storied tradition of Boston, Chicago, and Kansas, they are indeed from the great northwest (Portland, specifically). The Great Northwest in a few words: absolutely gorgeous, expansive space rock. I plan on reviewing their recently released debut The Widespread Reign of… soon. This is good. Continue reading ‘The Great Northwest – “Chief John” and Engineers – “Forgiveness”’
Wouldn’t it be totally lulzy if I posted a picture of the Seattle landmark and was all like “no, not that Space Needle, silly?!” Oh em gee, that would be hysterical. But since I have no sense of humor that I’m aware of, that won’t happen. Instead, I’d like to talk about how Space Needle (the band) is the fuzziest ever. I’m talking Snuggle Bear fuzzy. And by the way, this is not product placement, I’m really into Snuggle Bear. I fucking love talking bears. Continue reading ‘Space Needle is for Lovers’
