Oliva Tremor Control

Music from the Unrealized Film Script: Dusk at Cubist Castle

This album is a psychedelic -pop masterpiece. Overflowing with ideas, this record found a way to marry sound collage and concise songwriting without every seeming forced or laboured. It is like Badfinger and Karlheinz Stockhausen rolled into one.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

David Sylvian

Manafon

I have been on a kick with these later David Sylvian records. This and Blemish are my current favourites. I adore the atmosphere he creates with the musicians (Christian Fennesz, Evan Parker, Toshimaru Nakamura, etc.) and how brave he is in leaving space and letting sounds hang. This isn’t an easy record to listen to. The subject matter is quite dark, but for some reason I find myself drawn to it. In a way, it is so bleak that it makes me feel better about the world.

Listen: Amazon

OLD

The Musical Dimensions of Sleastak

In 1993 I was listening to a lot of death metal and indie rock and nothing sounded as strange and otherworldly as this record. I think James Plotkin is consistently brilliant and I love Alan Dubin’s vocals/lyrics. It is constantly morphing. It is a harsh, organic, and truly psychedelic listening experience. The final track, “Backwards Through the Greedo Compressor” is a real mind-melter of studio mix improvisation.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Andy J. Lloyd (bass)

Julianna Barwick

Nepenthe

The most beautiful vocals imaginable, structured into perfect topographical dreamscapes.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Max Richter

From Sleep

A master composer creating endlessly simple and beautiful sounds, masterfully.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Nailbiter

Formats

Punishing awesomeness, delivered without apology, but with style.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Spotify

Jon Maki (drums)

Flower-Corsano Duo

You'll Never Work In This Town Again

I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing the Flower-Corsano Duo live twice. Once in Toronto and again in Helsinki. Both shows were absolutely blistering. Being a drummer, Chris Corsano blows my mind every time I see him. This self-released live recording is a really good representation of what you should expect from the aural magic created by just a Bulbul tarang (Indian banjo) and drums/percussion.

Bola Sete

Ocean Memories

Bola Sete is one of my favourite unsung artists and one of my favourite artists in general. John Fahey originally put this album out on his Takoma label in 1975, but this 2 CD reissue has an additional disc of unreleased recordings. Some of the most beautiful guitar work you’ll ever hear in your life.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon

Laura Spiegel

The Expanding Universe

One of the earliest and most compelling computer based albums to reach my ears. Composed from 1974–1976. Her ambient music truly does lead to expansion of your mind’s universe.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Tim Condon (keys, guitar)

The Necks

Drive By

I discovered The Necks by seeing them at the Spitz in London (UK), one of the most conducive-to-a-good-show venues anywhere in the world. They were extraordinary. The next time I saw them was at the Corner Hotel, in Melbourne, on a hot January night (I think it was 44c), and the air conditioning had broken down. Not conducive to listening to an at times small, quiet, slow and building improvised musical experience. But yet they were equally as extraordinary. They are the best band in the world at making you forget where you, and they are, and being held, immersed in their world of texture, melody and space. Every album of theirs is incredible, but Drive By is a great starting point, especially when traveling long distances.

Listen: iTunes / Amazon

Alessandro Cortini

Sonno

I find it insulting to call this “experimental” – this album is filled with musical experiences that are familiar to anyone who has experienced heartbreak, sadness, loneliness or isolation. This is not experimental – upon first listen it is instantly familiar and innate. The saddest, most fractured and gorgeous of melodies, all tripped up by noise, static and orchestrated by a mechanical sequence. The opening track, “Rovine” says a million words in seven and a half minutes. Sadly gorgeous throughout.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Fire! With Jim O'Rourke

Are You Still Both Unreleased?

Fire! just use Mats Gustafsson’s atonal, nagging, persistent, pained and screaming saxophone to blast forward, destroying any hesitation over what the fuck is going on. It’s just happening. Try putting this on (in particular opening track “Are You Both Still Unreleased?”) at a decent volume and watching how many people are physically repelled by how blunt, brutal and difficult this music is.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

Oren Ambarchi

Sagittarian Domain

Ambarchi continues to astound and astound (in particular in 2012, when this album was released, alongside 9 other releases he put out that year) uses repetition and layers to push forward, moving past any contemporaries with grace.

Elsewhere in 2012, Oren Ambarchi teamed up with Fire! for their album In The Mouth – A Hand. 2012 was a pretty great year.

Listen: iTunes / Apple Music / Amazon / Spotify

The post Fresh Snow: 13 Experimental / Improv Albums We Love appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

On One, their ironically-titled sophomore record, the Toronto outfit blazes through a set of (mostly) instrumental tracks. Often inspired by the psychedelic rock and heavy metal genres of the ’70s, but without ever aping them, One believes there are still uncharted lands and unanswered questions in guitar rock. The band improvs most of their music until arriving at the songs that you hear now on the record (and their live shows are supposed to be raucous musical events0.

Even on the rare vocal moments during the record, Fresh Snow is intent on mining those melodies in support of the overarching musical elements. Take “Mass Graves / Dance Caves”, which sounds like the dance track it’s perhaps meant to be spoofing. Using almost exclusively their guitars and a synth, Fresh Snow puts together a charming disco track. It’s great because it sounds like a spoof, but there’s something charming in its spontaneity.

I’m certain the band is more comfortable playing songs like “January Skies”, which apes psychedelic rock and Black Sabbath — along with a techno-inspired pulse — to create a sound that’s completely unconventional. It still relies on the riff, but it’s challenging our assumptions of where a riff comes from.

These songs challenge preconceptions of rock music. It’s easy to say that about most post-rock, but with Fresh Snow, the band playfully rearranges our notion of what rock music is. What’s more, they do it all without descending into electronica.

None of this makes Fresh Snow easy to absorb. Everybody talks about Fresh Snow as a Krautrock band. Krautrock was a German style of rock that was focused on improvisation. But the thing is, jazz came first.

Miles Davis was an improv guy (as were many of the greats who followed him). Jazz is the improvisational take on music — music’s greatest non-verbal connection to the spoken word. As a result, some of it wasn’t easy to digest. Miles Davis is responsible for the world’s most popular and approachable jazz record, Kind of Blue. But he’s also responsible for Bitches’ Brew, which is not a record you’d give to a jazz novice.

So much like the best jazz records, One is difficult to digest. Unlike most Krautrock records — which treat improv as an end rather than a means to one — One requires and rewards repeat listening. But that listening is rewarded by Fresh Snow’s ability to surprise. The album is a treat for fans of great rock and impressive instrumental music. It’s also a sign of Fresh Snow’s increasing importance in Canada’s rock scene.

The post Fresh Snow: One appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

I always felt that Zaba was the first record in its post-rock style to challenge Alt-J’s dominance in this ill-defined genre. On How to be a Human Being, Glass Animals surpass Alt-J to become, in my mind, one of the most inventive post-rock, alt-electronic groups out there.

How to Be a Human Being begs the question: How does one classify music like this? The pop structures, rock energy, and electronic sounds create a bizarre — but appealing — mix that seems eminently malleable and mineable for a new generation of musicians. How to Be a Human Being is a record of constant imagination.

Even people who don’t like Glass Animals couldn’t accuse them of being unoriginal. Every track on the record sounds different — compare “Pork Soda” to “Take a Slice”, for example. The band rarely, if ever, repeats themselves.

How to Be a Human Being has hints of everything from Justin Timberlake (“Season 2 Episode 3”) to blues rock (“Poplar St.”). It’s one of the most diverse records of the year. It’s a record that’s a result of touring, and all the new life experience that entails.

But at the same time as the band is rapidly — and aggressively — expanding their sound, they’re also doing something unexpected. How to Be a Human Being strips back the production slightly, dressing down the tracks compared to Zaba.

It’s a subtle effect, but it works nonetheless: despite Glass Animals’ continued experimentation, it never feels like they’re anything less than approachable.

To be clear: the production doesn’t sound bad, not even remotely. It’s still a well-made, well-executed record. But the production allows Glass Animals to make experimental, unusual music without ever sacrificing its listen-ability.

All that being said, it’s hard to discuss How to Be a Human Being right now. It’s the musical equivalent of The Empire Strikes Back: a sequel whose language is so different from what came before that it will take time to judge and understand it properly. I imagine we won’t fully understand the magnitude of this record until we can judge it within the full spectrum of Glass Animals’ complete discography.

That’s a good thing. The Empire Strikes Back was panned when it was released, but now many regard it as one of the best films ever made. Clearly, How to Be a Human Being is a tremendous record. It has the all the feelings of a masterpiece. But I don’t know if it’s a masterpiece yet. It’s too early to call it. (If it’s not a masterpiece, then it’s certainly evidence that Glass Animals is capable of making one.)

For the time being, How to Be a Human Being is an impeccable record. It demands your attention, and your repeated listening. And I can’t wait to talk about it a decade from now.

The post Glass Animals: How to Be a Human Being appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Originally released independently (in small quantities) in 2015, Iron Mountain has since been picked up Prophecy Productions. The re-release features new artwork, but the songs remain the same.

Despite its short five-track length, Unum is almost fifty minutes long. It doesn’t feel as long as that: with a seemingly endless bevy of ideas, the band comes alive with each track, building them with successive layers of intensity. At moments, their sludgey riffs conjure memories of Black Sabbath or Mastodon at their gnarliest. A couple tracks are reminiscent of Metallica’s thrasher approach (particularly their instrumental work). Blitz reminded me of Iron Maiden.

Yet Iron Mountain is working entirely within their own framework. With flutes, fiddles, and pipes, there is jazz-like backing track happening here (Blitz being another great example of a jazzy bass line with some memorable solo work). The band is completely comfortable with their own identity.

Tracks like Powow begin quietly and slowly ease their way into distorted power chords, still using the higher-pitched flute and pipes and fiddles to cut through the bass-heavy tones of the guitar tracks and the drum kits. The song’s mid-point becomes a total riff-fest, but yet it never descends into simple chugging. Rather than going the route so many metal and rock musicians go now — high-speed chugging on low guitar strings to create an ominous, train-like sound — Iron Mountain forges their own trail.

It’s worth saying that these gentlemen really know how to play their instruments. The drummer keeps excellent time, and the guitar work is particularly intricate. But what really shines are the solos throughout, which are rarely played on a traditional instrument associated with the genre.

The sound Iron Mountain’s got going for them is unique. Thanks to their appropriation of many genres, Unum has more to reveal with every listen. If there was going to be one album you listened to over the next week (or month), Unum would have enough depth to make the cut. It’s also a refreshing listen for those of us who think metal has had little to offer lately; it’s a reminder that it’s still possible to do something original in what’s beginning to feel like a stale genre.

The post Iron Mountain: Unum appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

Take Not My Real Life, for example: mixing jazz and electronics with an Alt-J-inspired guitar riff yields a brilliant opening riff and movement that kicks off the song into a high-energy territory, despite the fact that almost all of the band’s competitors have veered off into lazy lethargy at this point.

It’s also a great comparison back to Radiohead: this is clearly a rock track, imbued with all sorts of other genres and surprising in influences that take the song in unusual directions.

If the rest of the alt-electronic, contemporary R&B genre is becoming a glorified echo chamber, Polyenso is a fresh take on it. The vocal work throughout is stupendous, but unlike their competitors, Polyenso never get stuck in a rut and focus on the vocals exclusively. They always serve the songs.

It’s this sort of exploration that litters the album. /// (A Pool Worth Diving In) has all the hallmarks of the prototypical contemporary R&B song, but it’s secondary influences — like jazz and trip hop — elevate the song to a new level that’s beyond what one might typically associate with the genre.

I’ll circle it back to Radiohead one last time, because /// (A Pool Worth Diving In) captures exactly what made Kid A so great in its bridge: Polyenso uses vocals as another instrument, hitting each note quickly with the force of staccato, repeating them until the singer is nearly breathless. It’s a beautiful moment that, at least for me, serves as the high point of the song.

As a sophomore album, Pure in the Plastic is anything but a slump. It’s clearly the band’s superior record; they’ve come into their own. But it’s also significant for the genre. It’s rare that it feels like there’s space for another band in a well-established, typical genre, but Polyenso has earned themselves a seat at the table. I hope everybody else takes notice. From my understanding, the lead single is I.W.W.I.T.I.W.

The post Polyenso: Pure in the Plastic appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

The results are oddly memorable, and perhaps one of the year’s strongest efforts yet from any artist in any genre. It’s only five tracks long, but it’s around fifty minutes. The group takes their time exploring ideas.

And exploration is certainly want the album is about. Rather than giving each track a name, Nisennenmondai simply give them a number. A part of me wonders if a number would have given away too much about their intentions, because each track is remarkably dense and refuses to easily give away meaning. The loops are long and intricate — not unlike The Field. Nisennenmondai, though, are more interested in the slow deconstruction of the loop.

I will note that I have a particular interest in the way #N/A uses drum tracks. The album pulses with them. High hats are in almost constant motion, and the album sounds jazz-like as a result. The first time you hear it, in #1, it catches you off guard.

These drums are consistent throughout stylistically, and are more important than the loop itself. As the trio takes apart each loop and breaks it down into a minimalistic arrangement, everything except the drums are largely open to experimentation. But each rhythm remains a constant.

On #5, as the final loops are breaking down, there’s a sound that reminds me of a broken guitar string being amplified through an old Marshall amp. It’s the complete des truncation of instrumentation, but it’s not unpleasant. If anything, it’s intoxicating. I’ve seen some comparisons to Giorgio Moroder, but I’m not sure you could compare #N/A to anything. It’s a dense wall of electronic rhythm and soundscapes, and it doesn’t offer any answers beyond itself. It’s the year’s most involved electronic soundscape, and perhaps one of its best.

The post Nisennenmondai: #N/A appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

For the most part, the experimental musicianship on Close to the Glass exists only to serve the songs, meaning that this record is their best one in a long time and one that just about everybody can appreciate. The general consensus is that Kong seems to be the big hit on this record, and I’d agree with that. It’s so catchy. Casino and 7-Hour-Drive are both great too, but Casino is a quieter track. Signals reminds me of the experimental musicianship of Flying Lotus at times.

All that being said, Run Run Run is the emotional capper of the album for me. It’s a tremendous mark of the band’s growth and maturity that we can talk about the emotional heights of a Notwist album. Even when they play through the staple instrumental track, it never feels as if they’re drifting too far from pop-rock. For a band who often struggles to maintain my interest beyond an intellectual level, Close to the Glass is a refreshing change of pace.

It might also be the best Notwist album yet.

The post Notwist: Close to the Glass appeared first on Unsung Sundays.

While Justin is known for his songwriting abilities, unlike Bon Iver, he doesn’t write any of the instrumental parts for Volcano Choir. He relegates himself to only singing. So the long and short of this is simple: Justin Vernon is a beautiful singer and he sounds great on Volcano Choir, but it’s nothing like Bon Iver.

This isn’t Justin Vernon the singer-songwriter. This is Justin Vernon the bandmate, leading a group of great musicians and songwriters. Many of you might prefer it to Bon Iver. The album’s actually very, very good. Tiderays is a swell opener. The synthesized keyboard noises beneath the guitar and Vernon’s voice make it sound like the ocean tide slowly coming in. I love Acetate, with its catchy vocal work and group effort across the song making it a standout. If you were to ask me what the standout track was, I’d probably tell you to give Alaskans a shout. It’s not the title track, but it uses the album’s title in its chorus.

The whole album is great, start to finish, but that’s how it really needs to be heard: from start to finish, with headphones on, in a dark room and no distractions. If you’re a fan of Vernon’s voice and are interested in the other work he’s doing, give this one a shot this week. It’s great to hear how he’s developing as an artist.

The post Volcano Choir: Repave appeared first on Unsung Sundays.