Clint Mansell/Mogwai - The Fountain OST

Clint Mansell needs no introduction really. He's one of the most successful contemporary soundtrackers to all your favourite films (Aronofsky or otherwise). And Scottish post rock act Mogwai need no introduction either; while I'm not a fan of their LPs very much, I'm willing to forgive anything for their work here. This is my favourite work of Mansell's, the massively underrated soundtrack to The Fountain, which just might be my favourite Aronofsky movie too. (I'm a hopeless romantic, can't you tell). Actually, barring Koyaanisqatsi, I'm ready to call this my favourite soundtrack of all time. Blah blah hyperbole, i know.

It snowed heavily a couple of nights ago. I was out at a friend's place a bit out of town, halfway between civilisation and isolation in terms of population density. I was in good company, old friends and wine and warm fireplaces and rusty, slightly detuned guitars with familiar songs carrying us amidst drunken revelry. It was lovely, but I felt an urge to get out for a bit considering it was January and it was not that cold despite the snow, and lord knows how cold it usually gets in January here in Canada.

I had this burnt as a CD for my friend because she was getting into OST's in general and I had to burn her a copy or two of my favourite stuff. (I'm that guy in the group, still burning CDs, still ripping files) She hadn't listened to it yet and I asked her to come along for a walk because well, it's nice being alone but better being alone with company. I inadvertently slipped this into her discman and off we went, into frozen winter lakes and trees that have slipped into silent slumber. We talked, about our lives, loves, ups and downs, about nothing and everything, and eventually settled to rest against the bark of a gigantic oak overlooking her cottage. We shared earphones and rested, and smoked half a pack of Belmonts. It was a clear, clear night, amazing how much of a difference in perspective the skyscape presents when away from the perennial urban haze.

We eventually passed out there, in silence. I woke up to a warm hug from her, suggesting that we should head back because we'd been out for a good 3-4 hours. I realised that at this very moment, my heart was full but my mouth was empty. That, at the very best of moments, I had nothing to say, except apologise. (I say sorry a lot, a personal defect, if you must). It's an eerie kind of inner peace, one that I am still reluctant to accept. We walked back and we caught each other glancing back at the old oak, like it had heard all of our unfocused discussions, our laughter and our pseudo-romantic aspirations. It was like leaving something behind, but not in a way that was sad or threatening, or even disquietening. It was, simply, humbling.

Now, whenever I listen to 'Together we will live forever', I know there's a place where I can recede to where nothing can taint me. It's the light that never goes out, as Moz sung, it's the essence of the beating heart, it's the only place where you can 'draw a drop of blood from a sugarcube'. This is me, fucking batman, broken, happy, sad, completely detached and completely innocent. And there is nothing more that I can say that would justify the beauty within this album other than the fact that I sometimes find myself there when I'm listening to it.

together, we will live forever

Sibylle Baier - Colour Green

Sibylle Baier is a German folk singer/theater actress who recorded the songs that comprise her seminal album during a road trip through Europe between 1970 and 1973, on a simple reel to reel recording tape. It was never released until 2006 when her son found the material and passed it on to J. Mascis (of Dinosaur Jr fame)

Quiet, peaceful, austere and contemplative. Sometimes, this kind of 'loner' female folk is exactly all I need.

i lose something in the hills

J Dilla - Donuts

J Dilla was a record producer and a legend in hip hop circles, and personally speaking, the god of the beat. He recorded this album, Donuts, on his deathbed, one of the most crippling diseases picking away at his life. Listening to this record with that in mind both makes this the most uplifting and depressing thought simultaneously, the latter because the world lost an irreplaceable talent and the former because the power to connect through music transcends everything else in this world, let alone that which my feeble prose attempts to grab at.

So Donuts, the greatest left-field hip hop album of all time, containing snippets of every human emotion distilled and condensed into 2 minute punches. As this was my late friend Michael's favourite record, I will do us the honor of letting him have the last word on it.

it's been a long time since 2006 when i heard this for the first time alongside the roots Game Theory - both of which quite frankly went over my head at the time. Donuts more noticeably since i guess i didn't really understand dilla at the time. although if you don't understand dilla i don't really see how the roots' offering would make much sense either considering that still has to be the most emotionally-charged post-dilla death record i've ever heard. i probably just listened to "here i come" over and over again and totally passed over "can't stop this" b/c of it'slength. YEAH MAN LOUD RAPS GAME THEORY WOO. talk about weird. anyway i guess it didn't finally hit me until.....a year later?? yeah that sounds right. ever get the feeling like you've walked into a funeral service for someone you don't know but you're invited anyway? that's probably what this record is like for a lot of people. you show up and everyone seems nice and you save face and "oh wow i bet he really was a nice guy" but at the end of the day you're just sort of cycling through manufactured sympathies and while death doesn't really make you happy you know that deep down there's no knot in your stomach. is that bad?? well no. my problem is that with Donuts people hear this (and only this) and as the only document by jay dee in their library i'm 100% certain that you can't fully appreciate this in the way that those more familiar with slum village/tribe/de la soul/common/etc's discographies are. i was thinking about this earlier and wanted to write a review but it was going to be far too vitriolic with me calling out bandwagon types* but that doesn't help anything and really music is love and something with this much love in its core doesn't need an arm of raised veins clutching a sword to keep all the demons away. true people will come in. light guides.


this album (i say that a lot THIS ALBUM) in one swoop has essentially nullified beat tapes for me ever since i "got it" and i dunno it's like why even listen to others. it's so robotic. HERE ARE BEATS I HAVE COMPRISED. listen 2 them. thanx u. nothing against dudes like madlib but it's not the same. well no Dil Cosby Suite was something special. yeah. if Donuts is a phoenix falling apart in a whirlwind of embers then that beat konducta suite is like the ashes flying across the countryside and blessing the children with eternal life. oh god HA. that's so over the top but iiiii don't care. theres a lot of might here. it's moving. i've never cried to this album but it makes me Emotional. you know. a few days ago i was out for a walk and Stop came up and uuugughgh. if there was one song i could choose that'd just go on forever~, then itd be that one. but instead it's less than two minutes. that SUCKS right? nah actually it's cool because it also reinforces a lot of things i feel strongly about. moments don't last forever; love is but one patch in life's grand tapestry - move on/love on. cool, eh? 1:39 of heartache and my god i feel that's just enough because human <3s are so small and delicate.

also gonna shoutout my main man Trains here because we share a favoutire part on this album: that stevie wonder sample that pops up on THE TWISTER is fucking holy. i remember the first time i noticed it: i was walking home from a friend's house after a night of drinking and it was late as hell. this was back when i had friends that actually lived in town so i took this shit for granted. so stevie shows up out of nowhere right before things go completely fucking bonkers and it takes my breath away. oddly enough at the time i didn't even recognize the singer so it was kind of strange. the placenemt is GREAT too: this heartfelt crooning right before WAM BAM PULL UP SELECTAH and it totally disarms you. like stevie wonder steals your bullet proof vest and i dunno afrika bambaataa shows up in a bong UFO and unloads a clip in your ribcage. and it's even better because EVERY SONG does this. christ. i bet people who say that this is lazy say shit like OH MY KID COULD DO THAT at pollock exhibits. yeesh.

but
what this album means 2 me:
well it's really hard to say. Donuts feels less like a beat tape or even track-by-track music every time i hear it. at this point i'm convinced the sequencing is sacrosanct not just in the sense of "this song sounds excellent and then the next one does" but rather that beats give birth toeachother and it evolves like a grand tapestry (there's that word again!) or bodysong or something that transcends Hip Hop altogether. not because It's Emotional or something but....i don't know. some things/a LOT of things are bigger than me. i have dreams where i sit on the edge of a mountain with the drop so wide that you'd think i was resting my ass on the lips of the universe. it terrifies me but i love this feeling. i don't believe in god and i haven't for a while but this sense that there's some colossal nothing - rather, SOMETHING - looming silently behind the sun and stars, yeah, that's good. rilke said that every angel is terrifying and i'd agree - that terror is fascinating, yes. but yeah, that feeling of awe, it's what permeates this album. that HOLY CRAP, WHAT HAVE I DISCOVERED. because you know music is a game. people swallow this shit so much and goddamn you fall into genre expectations so fucking hard that nothing surprises you anymore. everything is a science. five star records are just loud or something. boom AND bap. ok we're on the level yadda yadda. nobody wants to lay prostrate in worship of something they love anymore. everyone is too goddamned self aware or fronting or keeping up appearances. fuck that

*by this i basically mean those that listened to Donuts after it dropped, declared MASTERPIECE!!!!! best new music, and then moved on although probaly t thorwing this on everyonceingawhile. maybe they listen to flying lotus and like ABstract Hip Hoppelbnfsdjg and kelike that shit burns me. no you don't get it. get your history you douchebag. Ackt Like You Know.

review ends here------

A Letter To Someone Who Won't Read It:

i still get pretty depressed over the whole thing lately although i'm starting to force myself to get over it. it's been long enoughg now, i guess. all in all i feel stupid about how this panned out mainly since a) there was nothing there to begin with and b) i really was a fool. but that's me. i make a lot of mistakes. i wish we could've just talked about this though. like, just realize where we were, be honest, you know. i said a lot of mean things about you in random corners of the internet as an anonymous poster and i feel like a jerk and maybe you DO deserve to read that to see what a jerk i am. every time i make you out to be the villain but really i'm just a big child who's all too prepared to throw his heart wherever he thinks it should be. this was wrong and i was just thinking about me and not you. i'm sorry. maybe one day we can go down by the docks in oakville where thesres tons of seagull shit and flags and we can watch fat white people ride by on their overpriced boats doing Who Gives A Fuck and we can talk this all over together and maybe never see eachother again, if thats what youd like. dump my ghost in the water and we can get on with our lives. i miss you. i miss You.


~~~

i heard from an ex of mine today. she (see: Hush Sound review) sent me a message about the microphones on facebook and i dunno. i guess it meant that she was looking at my profiele?? who knwos i dnt know how facbook works anymore now that i'm single. but yeah it made me happy though. i guess i'm glad to know she doesn't hate me. like, fuck. that girl. she was such s sweeheart treally. i bet she'd really give me shit if she knew i drank thoguh. im not drunk now although i think the correct term is Robotripping(?). check ereoqidn for details. anyway she has every right to think i'm an asshole. i dumped her because the girl i dated before her came back into my life. yeah, see? nobody does that but...ugh, Bad People. even though thigns betwen us were obviously falling apartshe deserved better than that like christ man. that was the summer i listened to coldplay a lot and dreamed about her at my job stocking bed supplies. what a time. being a teenager sure is cool, eh? but yeah 'm glad she doesnt think i'm an ass. i worry too much about what other people think but sometimes SOMETIMES i do shit and deserve the consequences


don't be so judgemental

REVIEW PART-----

the other day i was out witha freind getting some food (last night actually) and when we pulled into park at this one joint, just before he turned the car off, i noticed the sample from the final track being played on the radio. y'know that "the kind of man you thought i'd be" part. it only lasted a few seconds since my friend just wanted to eat but i remember just sitting there for a second with a wide-eyed look on my face while i took it in. obviously this was just a coincidence but the whole incident gave me great pause and joy. this was THAT SONG. one feather from a wing of dreams that disappeared into the sky until a rainman/philosopher king godtype gripped its wax essence and made a tiny glowing universe that will only ever exist in our ears. and i'm thankful for it. really really am..    




RIP Michael Isard. 

Alphane Moon - The Echoing Grove

In their incarnation as their main project 'Our glassie Azoth', the Welsh duo of Dafydd and Ruth traverse the chaotic elemental heart of psychedelic music. Forgoing riffs for alchemy, OgA’s albums are nothing less than howling, hair-raising exorcisms of blinding white noise. When the squall of OgA’s feedback hurricanes subsides, Alphane Moon is revealed. As experienced in the opening swirl of “An Open Entrance,” these magic moments achieve a rare sense of consequence. We witness the total transfiguration of Dafydd and Ruth, their swaddling of Dionysian cacophony cast aside for the white robes of pastoral mysticism. The Echoing Grove was originally released in multiple cassette micro-runs. For most, however, this extraordinary CD will serve as a first exposure to Alphane Moon’s arcane workings. Prayer and incantation both figure within this duo's acid-gilded ceremonies, though not in any traditional sense. What few words are uttered owe everything to the tradition of British Isles folk-poetry. This is a ritual in sound, not text. Guitars coruscate and radiate, elevating tricky, Pink Floyd-ian noises to a state of luminescent drone/flux sublimity. From the glimmering “Circle Of Four” to the blazing psychedelirium of “Reap A Field Of Light,” the sound that floods The Echoing Grove is absolutely supernatural. This isn’t just music—it’s magic .

celestial influences

Espers - II

Espers are a psychedelic folk act from Philly, they formed in 2002 and were initially centred around the songwriting partnership of Meg Baird and Greg Weeks, and have now expanded to a sextet. Their modus operandi seems to be mystery and ether over musicality, in a sense of speaking. They revel in drawn out compositions that envelop the listener in a world that is entirely their own. Here's my favourite of theirs, their second LP simply titled II. 

Such is the evocativeness of Espers' second album that I feel as if I should write about my experiences listening to it while picnicking in the King's Woods, prancing across the greensward, or sipping mulled cider behind castle walls. But it's 2006, and I've mostly listened to it in my cubicle at work. Besides, despite the strong whiff of Ye Olde Renaissance Faire coming from II during initial plays, Espers' genius lies in making music that feels both archaic and timeless simultaneously. 

“Dead Queen” begins the album with vaguely medieval sounding acoustic guitar, tambourine, and female vocals, but also crystalline production that appears as if the pastoral setting Espers summon to mind exists on a spaceship. By the end, the droning instrument that arises (an electric harpsichord, maybe?) has taken the track somewhere entirely new. “Widow's Weed” launches into a fairly conventional modern psychedelic rock opening, but once Meg Baird starts singing in her slightly angelic voice you're ushered back to the same calm, reflective atmosphere as the beginning of “Dead Queen,” There's a measured, oddly reassuring air to all of the performances here, even at the height of their bad trip-evoking powers, such as the end of the new version of “Dead King,” which originally appeared on their covers-heavy The Weed Tree EP. 

There's also an overwhelmingly melancholy, valedictory feel to II. Naturally enough “Dead King” and “Dead Queen” are songs for a wake, but so is “Cruel Storm,” and even “Widow's Weed” and “Children of Stone” are immensely foreboding despite the sweet harmonizing of Baird and Greg Weeks on the latter. Only “Mansfield and Cyclops” escapes the funeral air of the rest of the album (and that serves more as a pause between two of the more intense songs here than anything else). All seven songs are lengthy; absent the more interesting touches Espers bring to bear you'd have a lugubrious, almost Zen set of archaic folk music that would be as likely to put you to a restful sleep as make you listen closer. But the drones and guitars keep surfacing during the songs, as if they were eating them from inside out: The second half of “Dead Queen” is the group playing some hot-shit metal solo at a tenth speed until the guitar(?) comes unstuck and melts all over the song. The end of “Moon Occults the Sun” has hand percussion and what might be some sort of a primitive keyboard trying to grind itself to death at the same time. “Children of Stone” may be the most conventionally pleasing track here, but even it boasts the kind of keening high tone in the background that sounds like a sickly bagpipe. 

The biggest testament to II's success is that this all feels naturally fitting, elements taken from the worlds of sludge and noise fitting in perfectly with the pretty vocals and folk tropes. It's not as if the band's disparate sources haven't been assembled before (e.g. the recently reissued Comus records), but they've rarely been assembled this skillfully. One of the corollaries of the old “mediocre artists borrow, great artists steal” chestnut is that really great artists not only steal but make you completely forget that fact. 

There are shocks to the system hidden within II, but they're so pleasingly cushioned you never notice until afterwards. It’s an album that leaves you both soothed and disturbed, lulled and shaken by the group’s masterful blend of the comforting and the uncanny, slightly dazed as if returning from time travel or a knock on the head (.) 


All that blossoms, all that blooms, lies fallow in the night

The Knife - Silent Shout

The Knife is an electronic duo from Stockholm, Sweden formed in 1999. The band consists of siblings Karin Dreijer Andersson (formerly of Honey is Cool, now Fever Ray) and Olof Dreijer - who also run their own record company, Rabid Records.

One of the group’s distinguishing characteristics is their unwillingness to cooperate with the media or the mainstream music scene - they rarely give interviews and wear animal masks in public; they continue to challenge song conventions and make some extremely fine/incredibly fucked up pop music. Which for me, is really the best kind of pop music there is.  In 2006, they released Silent Shout, which is easily one of the best albums of the decade. Electronic pop was no longer a light headed bouncy affair for the Anderssons, it now existed to inhabit the recesses of your mind, in a world of its own. 

An insight on this masterpiece from a fellow rymer:


Forget electroclash. Forget dance-punk. Forget all the other 80s electronic and dance revivalist bands of the 2000s; Silent Shout is the definitive back-to-basics electronic album of the decade. A decisively determined album, it focuses on its goals without making any concessions, and thus Silent Shout produces no pop gems in the vein of "Heartbeats," but what replaces the style that the band previously explored is no less engrossing. It's got everything necessary to make it a classic: The haunting, unique vocals, icy electronics, danceable neck-breakers ("We Share Our Mothers Health" is a rare track that might actually be physically dangerous), melodic burns and dark mystique. Silent Shout both sounds like something completely new and futuristic and yet also somehow antiquated; "The Captain" is a perfect example, sleek and yet frozen, smooth and yet rough as if coated in brine. It only further emphasizes the fact that the album doesn't quite fit in with anything else of its age, even consciously nostalgic dance music that dominated much of the decades independent scene. If it recalls anything, it's an alternate reality of the 80s when Antarctica had a thriving electronic scene, but it also sounds cutting edge and advanced. Perhaps this is what makes Silent Shout so timeless; ultimately, it is an album that seems to resound from nowhere, and thus answers to no one, nothing.


a cracked smile and a silent shout..

Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out of This Country

Camera Obscura are a pop group from Glasgow, Scotland. They formed in 1996, and have released 4 albums to date. 

Unabashed pop perfection. You're unlikely to hear pop records this good very often. The whole package ladies and gents - beauty with brains. 


Razzle dazzle rose