missive 124
24-06-2007
Singled Out
Missive 124

Singled Out ‘purveyors of taste, sarcasm and bad timing’

For Kelly and Mark.

As per usual late but with good reason - we keep getting side tracked from the CD’s - as if it wasn’t bad enough trying to keep up with the singles we have a shedload of albums to write up with some gems nuzzling in the pile - things like the Crimea, Rosalie Deighton, PTV3, Sonic Youth, Layode, Ecstatic Peace goodies, Pissed Jeans and so much more.

The side tracking bit is down to the wealth of musical mediums available to all - myspace although fair do’s it does have its faults is a truly wonderful resource which - though we’ve said before on more than one occasion - mainlines directly into the whole hippy / punk ethic of cutting out the MAN and doing it yourself - had Peel been alive today I’m sure he’d have been a fully paid up advocate. But then my space and other similar resources put the control back in the hands of the people who matter the artist and the consumer - no more being led by the nose of the majors - though obviously the industry is still run by the huge corporates - it is now to a certain extent the public who decree what they want to hear not what some lazy half arsed and overpaid artists and repertoire person thinks we want to hear - case in point in recent memory - Artic Monkeys and Kate Nash (who incidentally features again about these pages). On top of that its getting top be a full time job keeping up with the frequent pod casts put out by garage punk (see link elsewhere here) as well as the amount of online label sites offering free downloads - safe to say we are never short of stuff to listen. Then of course its been Glasters weekend - which we declined to go to - CD’s and stuff needed attention - such dedication - though we did manage to sample as much as we could - who said kid in sweet shop - watching and listening via BBC - in all honesty Bjork alone was worth the admission fee - a stunning and typically ethereal set.

And so to the singles - apologies to those who I’ve promised would feature - you are on the must do list and will be included next missive - which - will be - honest - next weekend……

Her Name is Calla ‘Condor and River’ (Loom). No strangers to these missives, previous visitations by Leicester’s Her Name is Calla have enthralled with their overwhelming sense of darkly bruised beauty, if we were to compare them we’d say in our humbled opinion that they are the dark half of Hush the Many - some times frail, fragile and unsettlingly eerie at others turbulent, crushing as though surfing the crest and orchestrating at will some unseen oncoming storm. With a debut full length impatiently waiting on the horizon entitled ‘the quiet lamb’ as well as a joint collaborative album with the Exploits of Elaine who you may well remember turned in a stunning split earlier in the year with the mighty Glissando. ’Condor and River’ provides for a glowing and deeply rewarding spectacle and serves as warning as to the ensembles shift in song craft development, perspective and texture. Now expanded to a quartet ’Condor’ finds Her Name is Calla comfortably as one in their song craft skin. Limited to just 250 copies and as with previous releases deliciously packaged and hand numbered, ’Condor’ is an epic sub 17 minute suite - a true calm before the storm / storm / storm passing triptych of sorts the initial introduction carving a brooding tensely forming atmospheric backdrop as though Floyd had scored a Neil ’Cortez the Killer’ Young styled montage for Roy Montgomery comprising of a lone guitar snaking ominously like a renegade gun fighter treading barren sun dried landscapes in search of his quarry. Courting the same dynamics as was the domain of early career godspeed you black emperor - that self same slow burn tension - this soon blisters and unfurls to unleash into a menacing heads down charge five minutes in before seductively re-emerging as a fragile stripped bare braided by a trumpet piano led haunting though tempestuous and darkly touching elegiac master class in crushed tormented classicism. Deputy single of the missive. www.hernameiscalla.co.uk or www.myspace.com/loom

While you‘re there check out the new Glissando release entitled ‘Loves are like Empires’ which hopefully we should have a copy nailed, played and no doubt much loved in the very near future.

Caz Mechanic ‘Moveover’ (Big Potato). Another record we picked up on spec on a recent vinyl buying jaunt, quite taken by the pairs of pins adorning the back cover (please don’t say one of them belongs to a bloke - it spoils the moment) though rather disturbed by the front cover showing - who we assume to be - Caz better known to friends as Caroline Banks - perched on a loo and smoking a fag. Okay that’s the visual critique out of the way. Ms Banks aided and abetted by Mark Vanhoen at the production desk describes her music as the ’mellow side of Velvet Underground meets the sane side of Syd Barrett’ which frankly is a pretty good call. ’Moveover’ sounds like its just tripped out of a beauty school dropout salon onset on a Doris Day movie replete with bee-hive and peddle push jeans, subtly warped melodies softly lilt to coax you into fuzzy felt day dream states that have you imagining a super chilled St Etienne being twiddled, teased and tousled by the collaborative might of Joe Meek with Phil Spector. Add in some moments of lysergic trippyness that sound like been they’ve gathered up off the cutting room floor during the Beatles ’Magical Mystery Tour’ sessions, a few nursery room twinkling bells, some nibbles of ’Move over Darling’ and you have yourself an unsettlingly cute gem pampering the hi-fi. Flip over for two more portions of perky un-worldliness in the shape of ’Go Home’ and ’Too much thinking’, the former an affectionate and tenderly crafted babe adorned sweetly with gently cascading pastoral riffs and willowy flutes - a kind of vulnerable Camera Obscura stripped of the strings, pangs and stirring 60’s pop motifs - liable to have you weeping buckets. The latter ethereal to the point its almost a lovelorn apparition. Future releases will - we believe - include a split release with Miss Ray Rumors on Tome Records which you can bet your backside we’ll be keeping eyes peeled for. Single of the Missive therefore. www.myspace.com/cazmechanic

Das Wanderlust ‘Sunday School’ (Cool for Cats). Ah Das Wanderlust - forever finding safe haven in our hearts by the sheer fact that in their debut release ‘the orange shop’ they cobbled together one of the best things to grace 7 inches of vinyl that we had the pleasure of hearing last year. Wickedly bonkers, irregular as opposed to angular, perky as opposed to punky and devilishly deranged as opposed to - er - crap - that’s the bunny. Anyhow Laura and Andy (for they are Das Wanderlust) hail from Middlesbrough (not the most recognised epicentre of rock ’n’ roll) and describe their brand of music as ’wrong pop’ (which we initially misread as ‘wrong poo’) which frankly we have a tendency to agree with - the pop bit that is not to the poo. ‘Sunday School’ their second single is a warped part nightmarish fairground waltz that dallies at times with the Pretty Things ‘Defecting Grey’ as though given a eerie peek - a - boo makeover by Lene Lovich fronting the Frank Chickens - crooked, nonsensical squabble pop - daft as a brush and deliriously essential with it. Lashings more becoming nonsense can be found on the flip - ‘Humbug’ in particular ducks, dives and squirms with childlike impatience as though those loveable imps Pop Off Tuesday were force-feeding one hit wonders Monsoon down the waste disposal hatch while hanging by her pigtails a certain infant Siouxsie Sioux who recollections would bitterly manifest in the guise of ’Playground Twist’ many years later. Fans of Zea, BiS and Winterbrief will warm graciously to ‘Supermarkets and Greengrocers’ as they fling themselves with carefree abandon across the listening space, dislocated, goofy, mischief making casio pop driven to near breakdown replete with shouty vocals and a wilful disregard for any notion of structure - which in all fairness is well fine by us - in a nutshell - skewed candy pop - blame ’e’ numbers. www.myspace.com/daswanderlust

Pepe Deluxe ‘The mischief of Cloud 6’ (Catskils). Think we might be right in saying this little bag of nervous energy is culled from their - well how else can we describe - quite remarkable third full length ’Spare time machine’ which we absolutely recommend you cease doing whatever your doing right this minute and seek across the fabulous-o thing called cyberspace - in a nutshell imagine all the trippy and lysergic elements to be found in your record collection being gathered together, magnified, technicolourised with hazes of fluorescence and shot across an album as though the work of a hiked to the eyeballs Lemon Jelly dragging with them a big huge bag of sherbet tangy melodies. ’the mischief of number 6’ is demonic and dangerously addictive, blending cherry tipped 60’s beat accents (both lush throughout with English and French pop motifs from that era) with a hi-art sophisticated coffee table chic-ness that fuses brass arrangements with an irresistible exotic hip hugging sassiness. Think Monade and the more French pop obsessed work of Stereolab having their DNA cross-wired with the 60’s string arranged pop of Anthony Newley, a smidgeon of Graham Bond drilled in for good measure and tenderly touched by some kooky moments found on the Shatner styled ‘Transformer Man’ - all this mixed down by a huge ruddy ladle and served onto vinyl by an impish Joe Meek who streamlines all the loose disenfranchised bits into a humungous hippy beatnik shakedown. Flip side features the same cut reconfigured, remodelled and re-housed in a bulging floor rumbling dub-tastic chill down. Go buy - and now hurry! www.catskillsrecords.com

Go to bands website at www.pepedeluxe.com for details of how you can download their defining second full length ’Beatitude’ for absolutely bugger all charge - dare you pass up.

Purity ’Liberation (so alive)’ (Purity). Coming on like a sveltely streamlined variant of Client without the sleaze, fuzz and grind Jill and Florence - for it is they who are Purity have according to the attending press release achieving admirable acclaim by being the first act to be signed off the internet by the legendary Tommy Boy imprint. Add to that stints at rewiring and remixing Garbage as well as crucial support slots for Depeche Mode hint at a degree of name dropping pedigree from this demurring dance floor demolishing duo. ’Liberation’ is bathed in a glorious cortege of overhanging glacially carved tip toeing house styled electro strings that act as cats eyes for the driving dynamics surging within to navigate to. Set to an over zealously infectious pounding clock work rhythm this slick gem provides for a galactic hyper drive of sorts that decodes into its matrix sumptuously austere 80’s accents as though Zombi were curating a Kraftwerkian styled fluid sounding after lights out symphony. Sure to be a fixture on the dance decks on the coming festival play lists pretty much the same way Dr Devious’ ’Cyber Dream’ was all those years ago. Flip side features ’driving me insane’ - a tale of mixed messages and hot ’n’ cold vibes which we are happy to say we are fully paid up members of the club who are oblivious to hints and come ons to the point we wouldn’t spot love signs if they came up and smacked us in the face. That said this is more superbly crafted club floor terrorism replete with breathlessly sultry overlapping vocals set to a train chugging pace and housing a cutely locked down hypnotic groove very much in the mould of Andy Gray’s celebrated reshaping of Numan’s ’Pure’ era industrial grind - file under Sven Hath meets pre Bond soundtrack era Orbital and expect considerable DJ action in the coming weeks. www.purity.co.uk

VWF ’I won’t do you any harm’ (Sidewalk). Those with a propensity to have the memory of an elephant may well remember us positively drooling over this lots self released demo ’5 minutes to live’ over two whole years ago (see missive 75) strangely enough we reviewed it in the same edition as Her Name is Calla’s debut (whose latest release you’ll find loitering with intent somewhere about these pages - neat the way these things have a habit of coming together eh?). Between then and now they’ve had their official debut release - in the guise of ’the hell with standings’ EP which much to our disappointment - mainly because we missed it - has long since sold out. And so to their second outing - ’I won’t do you any harm’ reveals a deft sense of song writing maturity at play, think the Higsons spliced with the Scissor Sisters is as good as any place to start when describing this little nugget. A mutant street wise white funk baby of sorts that at times sounds like its sourced and nicked wholesale its riffs straight from early 70’s TV cop shows to such an extent that you keep looking over your shoulder expecting Huggy Bear to make an appearance any time soon. Serve it up with a bulging front loaded brass arrangement and a deceptively nagging side winding groove that once heard impishly elopes to find a spot in the recesses of your psyche and lies silently only to wake you up at 4 in the morning partying hard. Don’t you get the aching feeling that they have another sell out on their hands - not ‘arf. www.myspace.com/vwf

Kate Nash ‘Foundations’ (Fiction). An absolute certified half carat gem stone of a release. There’s a lot to be said about the old adage of keeping it simple and we suspect its something that Ms Nash routinely abides by. Case in point ’Foundation’ - her debut release for the micro major fiction imprint, built upon a drum machine backdrop a divinely dinky kindergarten choreographed chopsticks styled piano thread decorates unfurling a melody so crisply featherweight it fizzes delightfully gathering in both stature and momentum. Atop the ’cor Blimey Guvn’r’ vocal of Ms Nash (apparently its called the LDN sound for those living more than 500 yards from the Northern Line - who I ask makes these stupid bloody generic terms up) coos, chirps and charms breathlessly unleashing a poetic put down (no doubt recalled in an instant via asterisked and underlined occasions noted with coloured pens in her Bridget ’fookin’ Jones styled diary) to some poor sap with a turn of phrase thats not so much wounding but disablingly comedic, more savvy than Lily Allen and bitterly sharper than Mike ’Streets’ Skinner - so there - shove that up your april in paris and laugh ’n’ joke it. CD also features the clean and explicit edits. www.myspace.com/katenashmusic

Paw Paw ‘Wired Ok’ (Albino). Someone somewhere has got a wicked sense of humour I can tell you because the deliciously impish debut single from London based trio Paw Paw really does have all the trappings of an in house fashion agency being set the unenviable task of giving Dollar a serious updated makeover consisting of packing them off on a residential course so that they can equip themselves with being aloof, enigmatic and a frankly indispensable marketing proposition all the time doing their stuff atop electro landscapes inspired by side 2 of Gary Numan’s ‘Pleasure Principle’ full length. Already having showcased their studio prowess working with Emma Bunton, Sarah Nixey and er - Boy George - the lightly fluffy ‘Wired Ok’ is an audaciously cheeky and addictively perky slice of sugar laced girl / boy buzzing electro pop that’s deceptively dinky and swelled seductively with saccharine laced hooks built upon a persistently throbbing cub floor grind. Nuff said. Flip over for two mixes of ‘Strange Reaction’ - the original edit is a hybrid of sorts that will throughout its sub four minute slot have you recalling several reference points - namely Bolshoi, Furniture, (though the spoken word delivery lends itself to Rialto) and a stripped down take of the ‘Rent’ era Pet Shop Boys. Icily statuesque, minimalist and built around a drum machine beat, curiously at odds with itself - the lyrics dipped with a blank despondency only to be set off against a jiggy happy go lucky melodic thread replete with electro squiggles that even ‘Pocket Calculator’ era Kraftwerk would swoon to and braided with an annoying fetching and haunting key motif which would you believe we’ve racked our brains all day trying to recall what or who it reminded us of - guess what ‘Silly Games’ by Janet Kay. We were expecting the ‘5AM dread mix’ of the same cut to be some warped face off in the general style of Dreadzone meets Depth Charge sadly it seems another lost opportunity - instead this cute re-drill sounds like the original mix returning home from a weekend vacation in the Ibiza and got itself a numbing loose limbed house styled refit. Smart indeed. www.myspace.com/albinorecordings

Kubichek! ‘Stutter’ (30:30 recordings). Okay its been out for a for a week or three - and we apologise profusely - but hey its pressed up on 7 inches of white vinyl (which while we are at it we must remind ourselves to seek out so that we call one as our own). Culled from their stupendous debut album ‘Not enough night’ which also features among its attending class the simply sublime ‘start as we mean to’ which kids is worth the entrance money alone - a colossal ilketrains meets decoration meets workhouse epic of heart heavy proportions, the fiercesome ‘Stutter’ not to be outdone showcases the trademark Kubichek sonic dexterity. A self propelling grind with blasts of agit angst searing mercilessly though its tension racked veins comprising of a howling front line of serrated guitars, a heads down no nonsense throb and a viciously delivered served up straight on a plate arse kicking charging clarion call for the disenfranchised and the lethargic. Frankly we’re sold. www.myspace.com/kubichek

Enochian Theory ‘Namyamka’ (Code 7). Proof indeed - as though you really needed any hard and fast evidence - that the British rock scene has never been in a healthier state. With one sold out EP entitled ‘Our lengthening shadows’ firmly tucked under their collective belt to much wide spread acclaim as well as a recently released full length ‘a monument to the death of an idea’ from which ‘Namyanka’ is culled. A turbulence orchestrating titan suite, ‘Namyanka’ is a white hot blistering passion laden torrent of pedals down storm lashed apocalyptic wastelands channelling Goblin - esque accents and searing riffs with thick molasses slabs of industrial prog grind that see saw precariously upon a finite line between overbearing tension and all out full on assault replete with pyrotechnic eruptions that pit and scar the doom laden and vanquished atmospherics within. Quite smart really if you ask me. www.enochiantheory.co.uk

Ulrich Schnauss ’Quicksand Memory’ EP (Independiente). I must profess to being a tad embarrassed in admitting that this is our first encounter with Ulrich Schnauss. His two previous albums have seemingly - and I hasten to add with much annoyance - passed us by. That said we are more than adequately satiated by the fact that this morning whilst undertaking a quick reccy of the CD mountain in search of another record we did happily unearth not only an EP by Ulrich Schnauss but a rather touching and soon to be released third full length entitled ‘Goodbye’ which for the best part of the day since has been hugging the hi-fi and of which ‘a song about hope’ and ‘stars’ alone warrant the setting aside of some of your time and patience in which to loose yourself in. ‘Quicksand Memory’ features four slices of exquisitely tailored dream pop and opens with ‘Look at the Sky’ - a heaven bound Slowdive lassoed and falling headlong to craft and sculpture cosmic canvases from the glacial wells of Sigur Ros’ enchanting and mercurial ‘Agaetis Byrgun’ full length beset with curvaceous ice tipped melodies that seductively intertwine all the time braided with silken hushed vocals and a bracing but beautifully beguiling lilting starlit symphony. ‘Medusa’ culled from the current full length takes its cue from the ether driven vapour trails brought to bear by soft sheens of feedback as found on My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Loveless’ and tenderly wraps it with a maddening clockwork driven groove that to these ears recalls early career Curve, Both ‘Gone forever’ and ‘On my own’ are remixes by Robin Guthrie - the former a softly lit caressing cortege of spectrally charged chiming choreographics sweetly bathed and windswept by honey dripped hazes of ethereal elagance, the latter a Cathedral-esque cruise controlled celestial floorshow of lulling Cocteau Twins arcs and unworldliness as though envisaged by a collaborative tour de force featuring Jon ‘Yellow 6’ Atwood and Jonas ‘Manual’ Munk - which makes it kind of sublime. www.independiente.co.uk

The Little Ones ‘Lovers who uncover’ (Heavenly). Last found decorating our listening space with crafted garlands of country tinged west pop loveliness (‘Oh, MJ’ - see missive 114) California’s the Little Ones return to the loving arms of our hi-fi via another limited two 7 inch set of which we have part 2 (stands to reason don’t it - it’s a picture disc - hello). ’Lovers who uncover’ finds them going head to head with the delectable CSS who spirit away the tLO essence and impart there own ID on proceedings only to return the ownership of the end product having tweaked and turned it on and in the process given it a distinctly pop orientated ‘Drums ‘n’ Wires’ era XTC edge that’s been cured and smoothed within a rather nifty and jiggling electro blueprint replete with a locked down heavy loaded circular hypnotic club throbbing bass underpin. Neat or what. Flip over to be treated by the Radioclit Mix of ’there’s a pot a brewin’ - a cross pollinated booty shaking Afro - Latino gem in the making which come the summer sun you’ll be wickedly dancing your arse off to if this comes within earshot - kind of like having Pigbag, A Certain Ration, 23 Skidoo and a humungous sack of melodic magic dust all sharing the same studio space. Dare you resist? www.wearethelittleones.com

Tiny Dancers ’Hannah we know’ (Parlophone). Another of those limited two seven inch set style things which on this occasion we are happy to say we have both. Regulars patrons of these pages will know of our undying affection for Yorkshire’s young and mighty pop combo the Tiny Dancers - across a brace of limited issue releases via their own Russian Doll imprint they’ve had us a - whoopin’ and a - hoopin’ like bad ‘uns in the bijou confines of the losing today cupboard under the stairs. Now firmly ensconced on the Parlophone label - previously the home of Beatles and Morrissey - you may have heard of them the former loveable moptops, cheeky grins do songs about holding hands and smoking pot - the latter maudlin manc, huge chin writes songs about gloved hands and burning discos down. Anyhow back to the Tiny Dancers - its all your standard type packaging that you’ve come to know and love i.e. poster type sleeve devised, designed and doodled by David Bailey - no not that David Bailey who takes seaside snaps of naked (or should that be knackered) ladies but the David Bailey of NME and stuff (yes we are confused to) - sadly though no picture disc on this occasion - which in all honesty would have made this sound better as they always do. Anyway first offering for their new paymasters is ‘Hannah we know’ which strangely was their last single for Russian Dolls (what a swizz- which we originally reviewed at missive 105) ) - still sounds to me like the Inspirals ‘This is how it feels’ fused with James’ ‘What for…’ - all said and done ambles along prettily with all the hooks, tigerish melodies and general niceties all firmly in place. Flip side of disc 1 features ‘omnichord’ a super smoothed kick back lazy jaunt braided by the merest touches of exotic styled hazily warming summers evening riffs that superbly takes its cue vaguely from Johnny Thunders and Patti Palladin’s ‘Love is strange’. Over on the reverse of disc 2 there’s the exclusive cut ‘Big Stones’ - a rather tangy and sun kissed slice of driving bubblegum pop found basking in softening folds of heart hugging and hip wiggling pristinely turned out 70’s accents - kind of the Raspberries shimmying up to the collaborative pop might of Wizard and Mud to pen cherry tipped cuties for the Bay City Rollers. www.thetinydancers.com

Starless and Bible Black ‘Up with the orcadian tide’ (Static Caravan). If we had a penny for every time we muttered to ourselves ‘cor - that’s rather smart’ after hearing a platter with the esteemed Static Caravan logo adorning it then - ooh - we’d have exactly one new pound and 23 shiny pennies and off giving it legs skipping merrily to the corner shop to swap our new found dosh for a quarter ounce sherbet feast, a bag of rhubarb and custard boiled sweets and a copy of Lion and Thunder. It’s been something of a lull period for those Static dudes, a quiet year so far punctuated by only going and serving up - in our humbled opinion - one of the early contenders for album of the year in the guise of Shady Bard’s weeping debut. But then just like the comedic British transport system wait for hours and three turn up in quick succession - and so greeting us on the door step when we arrived home from a gruelling day of brain mushing day job duties was a small package bearing the all to familiar hand writing of Geoff Static. Inside the latest three releases from West Midlands finest including the imminent debut full length from Serafina Steer entitled ‘Cheap demo bad science’ who sounds so abstractly minimalist and off the wall hat she makes Laurie Anderson appear passé - we recommend that while your waiting for us to get the proverbial finger out with a review that you go immediately to www.myspace.com/drumstreetsefa and hook up with the crooked title track for starters. Elsewhere a rather dinky and exquisitely packaged 200 only 3 inch CD from the Owl Service (more about them or as the case in reality is - him a little later in these pages). For now though - blimey - thought I’d never get there - the second release from Manchester based trio Starless and Bible Black - and before you all start digging out your King Crimson (which frankly isn’t a bad idea) - no they aren’t named after the prog overlords (was it their) 6th full length (?) but rather more by Stan Tracey’s jazz suite inspired by Dylan Thomas’ ‘Under milk wood’. With one single under their belt a long sold out EP for the fledging though highly engaging Mancunian label Timbreland Records who until today were literally unknown to us but now having spent the best part of an hour listening to samples of their stuff we have managed to cobble together a Herculean list of talent that would have sadly passed beneath our ever eager radar. ‘Up with the orcadian tide’ - very age of the Aquarius don’t you think - is one of two releases that’ll be shortly doing the rounds across the more discerning record shelves of this fair nation the other being a self titled debut full length via Chicago’s Locust label. Like Circulus, Fran Rodgers and Rosalie Deighton (three artists that immediately spring to mind in very recent memory), Starless and Black Bible exist in another time frame, their sound haunting yet familiar ekes through the ether with a supernatural unworldliness, a sweet though dusty montage of dulcimers, electronics, lightly picked cascading Gaelic pastoral guitars and the bewitching voice of one Helene Gautier - a cross if you like between Sonja Kristina of Curved Air and Sandy Denny. Like some forgotten fabled relic from folk’s distant past unearthed by the likes of those exquisite revivalist imprints Rise Above and Finders Keepers ’up with the orcadian tide’ is a beautifully crafted melodic mantra, curvaceous and unerringly spellbinding, an acutely archaic and authentic aural account pinpointing perfectly an era where the likes of Pentangle, the Incredible String Band and Susan Christie entranced the informed cognoscenti of the day. Ebbing and flowing abound between degrees of mystical mystery and bliss fuelled serenity SBB captivate and romance in equal measures with the kind of delightfully delicious aplomb that had us digging out a CD from a year or three ago by a much missed trio by the name of the Omegas (what ever happened to them?). In sharp contrast over on the flip side is ’all in a day’ reveals a more standardised and earthbound facet to the SBB persona, deeply touching and wrapped in svelte like introspection this numbingly romanticised gem is lightly flecked with spring hued resonating rustics, heavenly chill bound harmonies and a unnatural grace that picks the locks of your defences in the brief moment it takes you blink an eyelid. Quite gorgeous really. www.staticcaravan.org www.myspace.com/starlessbibleblack

Related links -

http://www.myspace.com/timbreland - download the simply alluring deceptive candy pop of Corn Capri meets Little Pebbles ’I’ll be your suitcase’
www.timbreland.co.uk - make your first port of call the artists page - go to we mythical kings page where I suspect you’ll be welcomed by your new favourite band - download the absolutely gem like ’déjà vu’ and while your there have a peak at the Tycoon Follies especially the exquisitely homely sounding ‘so long’ - the missing link between the LA’s and the Beatles.
http://www.myspace.com/nancyelizabethcunliffe - think Vashti Bunyan collaborating with John Fahey - rip ‘Hey Son’
http://www.myspace.com/newhawks - rip ‘new wool’ - uplifting and frankly crooked.
http://www.myspace.com/electrikshepherd - rip the disarmingly down tempo dippiness that is ’electric shepherd’ very emperor penguin.
http://www.myspace.com/voiceofthesevenwoods - rip the forthcoming ‘valley of the rocks’ - so good it makes your eyes water.

Jacob Fletcher ‘Don’t go down’ (Fitzrovian Phonographic). The latest brace of instalments from the fledging though irrefutably handsome looking Fitzrovian Phonographic imprint. Impeccably packaged and ridiculously limited in number previous releases on this prized label featured some corking outings for Benjamin Prosser and the Tap Collective, Mr David Viner and the Last Town Chorus whose ‘Caroline’ still haunts and seduces us with a strange unnatural chemistry. Of course all three releases are long sold out as I suspect these two nuggets will soon forever join the club of must have it online auction fisticuffs. Two cuts feature on this dinky little seven inch from London based singer / songwriter Jacob Fletcher - limited to just 350 hand numbered copies and all arriving replete with a little badge. Embarrassed to admit knowing absolutely diddly squat about Mr Fletcher which for regular readers of these pages will come as no small surprise but what we do know is that this is as perfect as things get. Fletcher crafts dust laden crushing melodies that cling with such heart tearing resonance that we swear are nigh on impossible to get all the way through without falling into a heap on the ground in floods of tears, ’Burn’ - the flip side - is especially cast with a beautifully bruised exterior the like of which both Elliott Smith and Will Oldham seemed to have the measure of - but then the marked difference between Fletcher’s style of song craft and those noted talents of the bleakly sparse is his unerring ability to culture a torturous full bodied symphony of hurt that’s impeccably laced with a latent undercurrent of softly woven bitter sweetness that goes some way to dulling the taunted after taste. Seductively bound in a marriage of gently tempered acoustics and gracefully conceived hollowing string arrangements ’Burn’ stings indignantly amid the moving and deeply touching grandeur of a withered gospel folk landscape. Lead cut ’don’t go down’ in sharp contrast literally oozes wedges of boot stomping triumphal blasts of brooding bolshyness comprising of a front loaded brass fanfares, synths and strings and reputed to feature members of Ladytron and the Earlies so the blighter can’t do no wrong then.

Brian Olive ‘See me Mariona’ (Fitzrovian Phonographic). The other half of the must have Fitzrovian brace of releases features the wig flipping warped out groove of former Greenhornes dude and Soledad Brothers member Brian Olive. Again as previously ultra limited to just 350 copies and adorned in the usual hand numbered packaging containing FR badge type thing. ‘See me Mariona’ is an acid flashbacked nugget fizzing with late 60’s nuances and craftily laced with a nifty psycho-tropic snake like riff and built upon a droning hypnotic grind this honey dripped fuzzed out mind melting babe sounds like Sunray tripping with the Brian Jonestown Massacre which sounds to me well worth the entrance fee alone. Flip over for the jitter bugging shade wearing ‘calling all around’ - a snazzy ‘n’ smoking garage groover that sounds like its fallen off the soundtrack to Tarentino’s ’Pulp Fiction’ - if you cut a smart dash to his site at www.myspace.com/olivedrabandtheetcetras you can hear a rather killer re-cut reshaped as ’love is all around’ replete with trippy lysergic montages and lazy eyed sitars - well f*cking cool if you ask me. www.myspace.com/fitzrovianphonographic

The Victorian English Gentlemens Club ’La Mer’ (Fantastic Plastic). Too cute for their own good. We don’t mind admitting that we’ve given this a fair old hammering since it snuck its way through our letterbox. And I know we’ve probably said this previous in passing but if we had our way we wouldn’t be petty minded zealots picking on the smokers in society instead our mandate would be thus. 1. We’d ban people talking loudly and at length on the mobile in public places - like the train or bus. Do you really think we give a flying f*ck as to how wonderful you think you are - I suspect the person at the other end of the line doesn’t either. 2. Kids playing their sh*te music on their swanky MP3 mobile for all and sundry to hear - the clue nobheads is in the word ‘personal’ as in personal hi-fi. Frankly we’d lock them in a tiny room and have Merzbow do a close and personal jam for them. 3. Ill mannered people - locking them up in a sin bin for a weekend having them repeating for 16 hours a day a ‘thank you, cheers, ta’ mantra. And finally - 4. Make it compulsory for those cute and lovable imps the Victorian English Gentlemens Club to release a single a week if not just to restore our faith in music but then to have us getting through the drudgery of the week with something to look forward to at the end of it all. ‘La mer’ will be available as a download and a super limited 7 inch which apparently will arrive housed in a numbered hand stamped wooden sleeve - which frankly we will be snaffling a copy of to call our very own believe you me otherwise their will be some upset faces here. As to the record itself it sees Louise take up lead vocal duties in fine style delivering a blankly monotone edge to the proceedings which frankly is so delightfully despondent and regimental we wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she’d had her feet nailed to the foot of the microphone stand. Not as frenzied and schizoid as previous outings instead rooted with a bleak edgy darkness - ‘La Mer’ picks the bones out of Controller. Controller’s trademark tension wrapped post punk austerity to serve up a jauntily happy tale (obviously I say this with tongue in cheek) of the sea (like er ‘La Mer’ d’oh) snaffling up the songs would be heroine. With Emma’s unyielding locked down Morse code tapping percussive throb and Adam’s zig zagging riff assault this slice of gnarled candy pop for the blank generation has all the hall markers of a potently agitated Breeders. Flip side features ‘Stupid as Wood’ which is an expression we have to profess never having heard before - daft as a brush maybe - anyhow it packs all the frenetic mischief that you’ve come to know and love from Cardiff most crucial trio, acutely edgy ravaged art pop which we are still happy to report really does recall pre face paint and pantomime Adam and the Ants and here we are thinking the era that spawned ‘Cartrouble’ and ‘Zerox’ - throw in a shed load of spidery riffs sourced directly from Shamen’s ominous ‘Jesus loves Amerika’ and you have yourself another slice of flying out of the record racks hi-fi hysteria. www.fantasticplasticrecords.com

Lady Fortune ’Mr Brown’ (Wanderlust). According to the attending press release this little cutie was slated for release on 1965 records shortly before their heads all swelled and they had trouble separating notions of grandeur from their initial label concept of releasing show stopping platters by tomorrow’s next big things. Understandably aggrieved and in a fit of pique Telford’s Lady Fortune took their ball and looked for pastures anew finding solace in the welcoming arms of Wanderlust records (home of the Butterfly whose debut release ‘the Duke‘ is another record that we‘ll no doubt have to add to our bulging wants list). But then their gain is 1965’s loss because this double barrelled corker is a blistering gem. ‘Mr Brown’ rifles at such a jaunty pace it knocks you slack jawed and breathless. Armed to the teeth with a front line assault of running on the spot strutting see sawing riffs and sounding like an acidic tongued suited and booted street wise savvy version of the Bromhead’s Jacket, in its two and a half groove slot this tasty little sort packs such an unstoppable array of combination punches and the kind of terrace styled ‘what’s your problem pal’ sing-a-long attitude as to have you carefully guarded hen removing it from the hi-fi for of getting a lamping just for the asking. Flip over for the decidedly superior ’Should not say’ - an eye poking f*ck you slice of rampant skiffle pop that veers between tender and thumping that tells the tale of a crumbling relationship from both parties perspective that’s liable to have you in turns bouncing off the walls in frenzied bouts of pogoing or down and low weeping rivers of tears - damn smart though whatever the effect. www.wanderlustrecords.co.uk

The Owl Service ‘Cine - the directors cut’ (Static Caravan). We first came across the Owl Service by sheer accident, two ultra limited hand crafted and numbered packages came our way following several exchanges of emails - the result that both ’Cine’ and ’Wake the vaulted echo’ EP featured in these very pages to much joy (see http://www.losingtoday.com/reviews.php?review_id=3731&band_alpha=t ). Seems that since then and now there’s been a positive hive of activity at the Hobby Horse HQ - home to the Owl Service and the Straw Bear Band whose debut full length ’from the sea to the stars’ - firstly there’ll be an ultra limited and no doubt tastily packaged 13 track full length from the Owl Service in the next week or two entitled ’a garland of song’ while via Cold Spring there will be a double CD set ’John Barleycorn Reborn - Dark Britannica’ featuring an array of leading lights to be found on the psyche folk scene among them the Owl Service will be featured with an exclusive cut ’North Country Maid’ previews of which can be found on their my space site (address at the end). And so to the Owl Service’s re-edited and fattened up ‘Cine’ - this will fly out believe you me and is the ‘directors cut’ of the ultra limited ‘Cine’ release with bonus tracks which initially appeared late last year in a ridiculously miniscule edition of just 50 copies. The packaging is as usual with these OS releases - a thing of beauty -housed in a hand made red card sleeve with all the usual inserts (our copy features a still of the irresistibly gorgeous Susan George - well after Julie Christie she is) this four track 3 inch CD is a rarefied labour of love and the type of thing you ca well imagine those Terrascope chaps getting hot under the collar about. - which reminds us to say thanks and apologies to Steven Collins (the Owl Service) who kindly did us a limited edition of one (ha ha - beat that) compendium of releases which we have managed to rescue from the CD mountain (groan) for review and because we are like that and just so you get the message in case you don‘t take note this time of asking - we will feature in the next missive (next week). As you can imagine the normal idea with these ‘director cut‘ type things is to expand the originally released material somewhat and so to then that this version of ‘Cine‘ equips itself with an additional previously unreleased track ‘Marianne’ of course culled from the early 70’s thriller ‘Die Screaming, Marianne’ - in fact so weary is Collins of being seen to rip off long standing fans with what amounts to a repress that he has promised to buy back the release should any one feel slighted as such. Featuring guest vocals from Jo Lepine and Kate Collins with additional fiddle score by Martyn Kember-Smith, Collins applies his craft to scores sourced from 4 cult classics namely the aforementioned ‘Die Screaming, Marianne’, ‘Girl on a motorcycle’, ‘Psychomania’ and ‘the Wicker Man’ - the latter of which bestrides the current renewed interest in British folk with the same keenly devoured interest as Nick Drake or so it would seem. ‘Marianne’ with its samples and softly bathed kaleidoscopic pastoral psyche shimmers - to these ears sounds very Autumn Leaves in delivery and grace being scored and choreographed by 60 TV composer Edwin Astley (‘Randall and Hopkirk’, ‘Champions’ and ‘Danger Man’) and provides for a deeply intoxicating and alluring listening spectacle. As to the other three tracks (see the previous review - link above) though special mention should go to ‘;Daniel / Take me to your lover’ with its typically 70’s sheen hippy chic styled key funkiness - damn smart if you ask me. Stupidly essential of course. www.staticcaravan.org www.myspace.com/theowlservice

My space gubbins -

http://www.myspace.com/andsoiwatchyoufromafar - Belfast based quartet And so I watch you from afar - killer name eh - craft epic swathes of post rock grandeur that veers between the glacially magnificent to the tempestuously thunderous and threatening, no hiding place here effects laden heaven that magnifies brooding to a super surround sound styled dimension - rip the ravaged though unbowed ‘I capture castles’ - magnificently torturous.

http://www.myspace.com/honeysacrifice - Columbus based (home of the rather tasty Moviola) classically styled quintet the Honey Sacrifice. We don’t mind saying that this is simply gorgeous, beautifully conceived moments of tenderly traded noire-esque sculptures, part eerily abstract though beset with a tranquil unfurling dark beauty - first port of call obviously in ripping ‘Steganos’ but spare a moment and hook up to the after lights out rain swept jazz accented ‘nocturn’

http://www.myspace.com/thetiltedheadofcompassion - we must admit to admiring their self styled description of their sounds as ‘Boards of Canada and Autechre discuss the gesture and sensibility of benevolence’ it kind of says it all and of course stops those embarrassing moments when critics (often me - I’ll admit) get it woefully wrong. Apparently from Greenland - and to my mind (though I suspect someone will tell me otherwise reminding me of course that some uber cult band whose name I should have tattooed on my psyche also hail from there) - anyway enough wittering on we suggest you rip ‘endless state of memory’ - which apart from rephrasing Satie’s ‘Trois Gymnopedies’ to all manner of clicks, fizzes and pops has you imagining what if Debussy where around today armed with a laptop.

http://www.myspace.com/tuskanmusic - hailing from God’s country and incidentally my hometown Liverpool - so obviously no favouritism here - all said and done we couldn’t hate this stuff even if we tried - self styled scouse rock ‘n’ rollers which I think is underplaying things a tad - four tunes are posted here which we’ve wrestled hard to separate into deciding our favourite - obviously ‘talkin about your dream’ has a touch of the ‘Nah poo - the art of bluff’ era Wylie Wah’s about it though here softly scented with essences of subtle psychedelic but threatened with arms tied up my back to choose I’d have to plumb for ‘the room upstairs’ which if anything pays several nods to those lost scouse heroes of yore Cherry Boys.

http://www.myspace.com/lisalindleyjones - had us positively beguiled last missive out forher soon to be released EP for eye industries / 4ad - still just in case you ignored us first time out another shameless plug which for your time and effort will be rewarded by being able to rip the rather wonderfully worked piano mental ‘the archer’

http://www.myspace.com/mordantmusic - why haven’t we come across these previously - we put it down to being one of life’s annoying little mysteries though that said we aren’t convinced that our listening eclecticism hasn’t at least one or twice crossed its path with mordant music - a duo no less - baron mordant and admiral greyscale - obviously not their real names you understand - who across a plethora of releases (that wants list we mentioned earlier is getting thesis styled now) do strange things with electronic sound mediums - ‘dead air’ is for instance your hypno - house acid club floor wig flipper, while ‘astley’s lament’ is a brief and distorted cutie that we feel would be better served adorning the distraction records catalogue - all said and done though rip recommendation goes to ‘navigation error’ - a psychotropic drone soundscape that had us recalling the tripping mind wiping ‘music for the dream machine’ by Sunray / Sonic Boom.

A constantly proving that they certainly know their good shit those dudes over at garage punk HQ have posted up a few blinding pod casts - in fact so many that we’ll have to rip them and try and squeeze in an hour or two mid week to bop our arse off too - anyhow postings from Nasty Grind #5, Savage Kick #35, Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide #33 and State of Mynd #10 to name just a few offering an eclectic range of 60’s beat, garage, psychedelic spliced with some of the most crucial happening sounds of today’s breed. www.garagepunk.com

Those who love your electronics done crafted and carved within monolithic minimalist slabs of drone will do well to hook up to http://nyme.org/podcast.html - a new resource site showcasing underground talent.

http://www.myspace.com/thesingularmusic - new combo formed by James Pequignot - described as indie / experimental / ambient - which is a fair old way of describing things but as is typical goes some way in understating matters woefully - ‘treading water’ perhaps the best of the three selections here has more than a whiff of Mansun about it as though vulnerable and found hiding in the shadows licking their wounds - that’ll be Mansun the much missed mid 90’s ensemble and not the hapless pan-stick comedy Halloween routine that is Marilyn. Then there’s the sweetly uncoiling ‘spiders’ shimmering with slow burn grandeur to rise upon plateaus of euphoric turbulence and moments of low lit introspective serenity - an EP entitled ‘I finally know what’s good for me’ is doing the rounds which I suspect we’ll be seeking out in the coming weeks if only to shake of this unerring desire to hear more.

http://www.myspace.com/newdelhifm - better known to family and friends as Cologne resident Sandro Boge, under the guise of New Delhi FM, Boge has to date released two full lengths for soul seek and monotonik - both of which we’ve annoyingly managed to keep from both arms reach and earshot of - a third album is nearing completion entitled ’meanwhile, the second hand keeps moving backwards’ of which the track ’loose time’ provides a sumptuous sneak preview - glacial sounding widescreen IDM landscapes that appear to have been carved, crafted and conceived in some kind of lunatic igloo, NDFM reference early career Biosphere and splice them with the more chilled and sparsely worked aspects of Manual’s back catalogue - especially tasty is ’daylight confusion’ which builds dauntingly and beautifully in stature encompassing spongy ethnic accents seemingly sourced from the sun scorched wastelands of Aboriginal Australia and braided by refined sheens of bleakly numbing austere atmospherics which in all honesty does it for us.

http://www.myspace.com/sensiva - more sumptuous electro ambience this time hailing all the way from St Petersburg and unless I’m very much mistaken the type of stuff that would do well gracing the rosters of the likes of Boltfish and Expanding. Sensiva are in their live guise a quartet centred around the talents of Artem Sensiva who craft spatial symphonies the type of which are made from the same stuff that holds the stars together in the night sky. Having featured on several compilations put out by the likes of 56stuff, bit lab, cheburec and and lo they now have for consumption a recently released full length entitled ‘Giosun‘. Snow tipped milky melodies are the order of the day there’s no denying that this lot have wiled away the odd night or three pouring carefully over the early work of a certain Jean Michel Jarre the same stealth like tip toeing seduction laden drip fed melodic dynamism as revealed on the delectable ’Cavern Flood’ with its almost prog like Zombi appeal. Elsewhere the fluid sounding ‘44100th galaxy’ - combines dub and down tempo accents to buoyantly bob along on a cosmic cruise while the dreamily cavernous ’draught’ with its sheens of classically abridged enigmatic string sweeps will lilt, lull with its chilled lunar-esque lullaby persona.

http://www.myspace.com/benignbandmusic - the solo project of a certain Tim Goodacre - an Australian musician residing presently in London -his debut full length ‘diaries of love and war’ has been three years in the making and (in his words not mine) ‘explores the darker side of love’ in these post 9/11 days of ‘terrorism and corporate decay’. Self described as gothic, progressive - new wave there’s no doubting that elements of Depeche Mode’s ‘Music for the Masses’ have played a huge influential part on shaping these enigmatic and bleakly beautiful sonic sculptures especially on ‘Odysseus’ and ‘march of the living’ the latter of which tailgates the brooding darkness toyed and teased by Numan’s ‘Pure’ though here sounding as though elements of ‘Pandemonium’ era Killing Joke minus the Ministry in a car crash scalding edge have invaded the party as were.

http://www.myspace.com/theskyfalling1 - more Australians - this time trading with the softly spangled sounds of 60’s styled psyche - the three tracks here are culled from their Salisbury Lane demo which we assume is their debut outing - ‘Outside’ the best of the bunch here with its soft hazy jangles recalls the hopelessly wonderful Clock Strikes 13 as though shimmying up to a very lazy eyed Green Pajamas with shades of early career Butterflies of Love loitering intently in the shadows.

http://www.myspace.com/tocadorecords - don’t ask us but some very strange things are happening here - the must sound like a seriously crooked they might be giants fused with the mindset of the cardiac doing beastly things to the beach boys back catalogue and not all of them involving surf boards. Suicidal Birds whose debut surfaced a while back on the ultra cool imprint Transformed Dreams (who incidentally have a corking release by Bent Moustache which is driving us delirious) might well be the only band on the planet ho come anywhere near the beloved Victorian English Gentlemens Club in terms of good wholesome frenzied off the wall fun - one part manic ‘the scream’ era Siouxsie plied with several parts scaldingly acute demented screwball psychosis. Next up the Stilettos whose ’Get ready’ isn’t sadly a butchered version of the Temptations classic from yesteryear but rather more a snotty nosed sub three minute festering romp that sounds like a clean ’n’ nicely shaven early career Undertones having several shades booted out of them by a seriously pissed off Heartbreakers while rounding up the pack Stoma’s ‘Nik Nok’ which aside from being at times unsettling and a decidedly irregular slice of obtuse jazz punk has the warming attraction of sounding like a bent out of shape Melvins collaborating with Tom Waits doing songs in the key of Captain Beefheart with Terry Edwards making uninvited appearances. And just in case you were wondering who or what is Tocado records - they’re a Netherlands based record label who judging by these samples could well go on to being a regular fixture on our hi-fi.

http://www.myspace.com/pawlowskitrouveward - we won’t ruin the surprise with words - safe to say we’ve have this split debut full length up on the inspection awaiting a review having had it kindly sent to us by those nice people over at Jezus Factory - features ex members of Deus - need we say more. Review imminent (fingers crossed).

http://www.myspace.com/kyoka - we stumbled across this by sheer accident - okay truth is it was the snazzy TV21 insignia that did it for us evoking childhood memories of all things Gerry Anderson - know absolutely nowt about kyoka except she is Japanese and does mean things with electronics and various other bits of equipment at her disposal - a kind of halfway house between a demented candy pop version of Atari Teenage Riot (as so indelibly portrayed on the frantic ‘from my other things’) and a cyber-tronic booty shaking diode meltdown curated by the Frank Chickens and Melt Banana as on the rather disturbed ‘my dead homie’. Well off the wall.

http://www.myspace.com/nobukohori - more exhilarating moments of weirdness via Japan in the shape of nobuko hori who cuts, samples, dislocates and manipulates sound mediums with such deft aplomb you have to wonder how she has managed to escape so far from featuring on one of those hallowed and near legendary split 12 inch releases that Fat Cat occasionally release with the aim of keeping you on your toes. From moments of half woken fluffiness and hallucinogenic flashbacks as on ’Sukinann’, being hauled backwards in a moment of time by the scruff of the neck via the deeply disorientating reverse looping ’yumy’ or the decidedly skittering beats and stuttering floral psyche template of ’xexe’ - Hori keeps you constantly on the back foot miserably trying to second guess her next move without success.

Okay that’s it until next weekend - think I’ve given you more than enough to investigate - there will be updates via www.myspace.com/thesundayexperience (we’ve been good this week posting stuff on a daily basis - how long that will last is anyone’s guess - though we have been buoyed by the fact that we’ve had over 10,000 blog hits which for a shy and retiring chap like me is the stuff of blushes - thanks to all who have dropped by your words / support and general kindness is a touching thing). Next time out we ill be featuring Computer Club, the Shaker Heights, Popular Workshop (whose CD keeps going AWOL each time we plan to review it - very strange - next time we see it - we will be nailing the blighter to the hi-fi), a brace of Smallfish gems, Fat Cat things, the Scottish Enlightenment, Lil Lost Lou / Paul Hawkins, those promised Filthy Little Angels singles club releases, little glitches, guile, king kayak (another release that keeps wandering), tin man, it’s a buffalo, purest spiritual pigs, the fiction, the telescopes ilona V and whatever else comes our way between now and then - phew!

Till then - take care of yourselves - demos and stuff email me at mark@losingtoday.com

Mark
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