Original Pirate Material
Originals - Compiled by Moonboots & Balearic Mike (Claremont 56)
Described as ‘twelve rare and exclusive tracks selected by Moonboots and Balearic Mike,’ ‘Originals’ is a new series from Paul ’Mudd’ Murphy’s fantastic ‘Claremont 56’ imprint.
In those rarified ‘Balearic Network’ circles Mick n’ Moon (as no-one calls em) have achieved, if not the financial security that their taste deserves, then at least the critical acclaim of self-appointed Movers & Shakers and even Mookers n’ Shavers.
With ’Originals’ it’s easy to see why they’ve managed to achieve this level of esteem, for make no mistake, these twelve ‘jams’ (as me ma calls em) underline just how deep some DJs are prepared to dig in order to extract Balearic nuggets of rare quality. Knowing just how jealously these lads guard their sources, the first thing that amazed me was that there was a, no doubt contractually binding, playlist included, not that any normal human being would have either the time or inclination to track down most of these uberbalearobscurities.
‘Originals’ begins with Moon’s choice of Sth Notional’s ’Yawn Yawn Yawn,’ a perfect start for such a compilation. Waves wash gently against the shore as a cello and piano combine to take you on a methadone meltdown before aching spoken word vocal oozes cosmic serenity and somnambulant charm. Yawn? I almost came!
Next up is Mike’s cut; Byron’s ’Too Much’ a bouncy boogie-ish belter that gets the foot a-tapping and the chin a-stroking kidda.
Band Aid’s ’A Tour In Italy (dub)’ is another Moon sleckshun and perhaps a contender for The Most Balearic Record Ever! Glockenspiel opening riff? Check! Tinny trumpet? Check! Oozy woozy synth? Check! Bubbly wubbly bass? Check! Funky Chic riff? Check! Irritatingly catchy chorus? Check! Ludicrous foreign vocals? Checkafuckinroony! ‘By the sea, right by the sea! A big un on the Anny Road in 86 this un.
Next up Tony Esposito’s ‘Je Na’ a Mike favourite both for the man’s sartorial elegance - think Doobies era Michael McDonald meets Bob Latchford circa 76 - and the man’s undoubted way with a Euro-pop piece of Dada-ist nonsense. This is pure Alfredo era aceness with a boss break to boot.
Radio Band’s ‘Radio Rap’ is another of Mike’s selections, an Italo-rap masterpiece that provides a clue why there aren’t more Italo-Rap masterpieces out there. Put simply, Italians were not put on God’s green earth to rap and yet there is an undeniable charm in this ultra 80s sounding mock hop which was apparently tracked down via an ancient Ron Hardy mix.
Two Moon grafts next: The Night S-Press’s ‘Dance’ is a poppy gem that fuses the piano riff from The Thrashing Doves proto-Balearic stomper, ‘Jesus On The Payroll’ with a Madonna style vocal and is followed by the Midnight Express sampling dub hop of B:Dum B:Dum’s ‘Instanbul.’ Think The Scream’s ‘Loaded’ meets the Fry’s Turkish Delight advert with Adrian Sherwood producing.
For Mike’s next slab; Fist Of Fact’s ’First Strike’ the man provides copious notes regarding the track’s provenance, informing we amateur diggers that the tune is a ’lesser known gem that appeared on the b-side of a Swiss only release back in 98‘. Sounds like Sal Principato doing PIL to me, but that can only be good.
The next two tracks belong to Moon. Balearic Godfather Phil Mison’s ‘Cantoma’ alter-ego gets the nod with his usual sun-drenched compositions for string and oboe on ‘Maja (Dub)‘ bringing the compilation back down a notch or two back to the sun n’ sea n’ saucy senoritas vibe….. aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, get the petherdine out Harold! Come on, Primrose, sup up, it’s time to put on Mountaineer’s ’A Town Called Ivanhoe’ and get the treasure chest out. Described by Moon as ‘Lovely, modern German bossa’ he could be referring to Jurgen Klinsmann but somehow I doubt it.
Mike then provide’s Flayer’s gorgeous ‘Wanna Get Back Your Love’ which he imagines as 10cc’s I’m Not In Love if recorded in Ibiza instead of Stockport. I kinda know where he’s coming from but to many people Stockport IS San Antonio. Whatever, it’s a suitably warm and cosy note to end on….but then as a bonus track we get Smith & Mudd’s ‘Wem’ perhaps the only down tempo funkalearic track to name check a small Shrospshire town (apart from the Wooden tops ‘Church Stretton Blues’ that is!)
All in all, ‘Originals’ is what we at Café del Lar would term ’proper old skool Balearic’ that fits together like a plate of squid and a bottle of Cava sangria with a poncho on, playing the castanets…..on a donkey…..in Ardwick! And it doesn’t get better than that!
Friday, 7 November 2008
Monday, 29 September 2008
Virus Syndicate - Sick Pay (Planet Mu)
Virus Syndicate are a Manchester grime crew yet chat like they’re from Hackney not Hulme. This isn’t a criticism, just an observation. Back in the day, if British MCs adopted or imitated a style then it was almost certainly that cod New York accent associated with the best American rappers. Remember Derek B, Monie Love and all those other plazzy Bronx pretenders? Cringe worthy wasn’t in it. With the emergence of a unique British MC style allied to ragga, jungle and later UK Garage and now Grime, it appears that all regional accents and styles have mutated into a pan-British Black (Cockney) Twang. If you didn’t know that Virus Syndicate came from Manchester you’d swear they were from the same yard as Roll Deep. One line on ‘Won’t Give Up’ goes ; ‘I’m a Manchester man not a Cockney’ yet the MC sounds as Cockney as pie and mash (up).
This aside, ‘Sick Pay’ is a fantastic demonstration of just how far British MCing has evolved and improved over those two decades since Derek B and co. Instead of pretending to be something they’re not, our MCs have finally fused the best elements of their Jamaican toasting culture with the inventive rhyme schemes of US rap. What separates Grime from most US ‘urban’ styles however, is the inventive use of beats and samples. Most mainstream Hip hop and R&B remains rooted in tired grooves and familiar lyrical and musical clichés, whilst grime has carved out its own soundscapes from UK genres such as drum n’ bass and dubstep as well as hip hop and dancehall. Infact I’d go as far as saying that, at their best, our MCs offer a superior alternative to most US rappers.
And make no mistake, Virus MCs Goldfinger, JSD and Nika-D are amongst the best in the UK. The intricate, complex flows of their lyrics and the inventive backdrops provided by DJ/producer MRK1 give ‘Sick Pay’ a playfulness sadly lacking in too many so-called ‘urban’ genres. ‘Taxman Returns’ ‘Dippin’ ‘Neva Argue’ and ‘Kane n’ Abel’ meld Eastern bhangra and Arabic sounds to Spartan drum patterns and whilst this is hardly original, it suits the frenetic lyrical flow far better than all those Timbaland-lite cut n’ paste jobs. ‘Vibrator’ has a bubbling electro feel and ‘Live At The Apollo’ uses a ‘My Sharona-esque’ guitar loop to detail how the crew have evolved over the past decade. This track and ‘Neva Argue’ also get remixes from Various Production and the whole LP hangs together as a truly accurate document of modern British inner city life both lyrically and sonically. There is sex and drug dealing and getting paid and crime and boasting and all the usual stuff of rap and a life of grime but it never feels overplayed, never feels too fantastical and clichéd just VS being honest and passionate about their own skills and experiences.
As they say on ‘Infected’ “call the nurse, cos my verses are so sick, no-one can cure me, I’m honestly poorly.” Grime has indeed infected British culture and has spawned some of the most skilfull and dexterous spit merchants this country has ever produced. Many like the Virus boys matching the turbo-flow theatrics and abstract stream of consciousness of Busta or Doom. It’s good to see labels like Planet Mu who have supported the band for four years now broadening their appeal to cover grime as well as avant-electronica. More UK labels should follow their example and offer these MCs and producers the opportunity to break out of the music industry’s self-imposed ghetto.
Release date 6-10-08
This aside, ‘Sick Pay’ is a fantastic demonstration of just how far British MCing has evolved and improved over those two decades since Derek B and co. Instead of pretending to be something they’re not, our MCs have finally fused the best elements of their Jamaican toasting culture with the inventive rhyme schemes of US rap. What separates Grime from most US ‘urban’ styles however, is the inventive use of beats and samples. Most mainstream Hip hop and R&B remains rooted in tired grooves and familiar lyrical and musical clichés, whilst grime has carved out its own soundscapes from UK genres such as drum n’ bass and dubstep as well as hip hop and dancehall. Infact I’d go as far as saying that, at their best, our MCs offer a superior alternative to most US rappers.
And make no mistake, Virus MCs Goldfinger, JSD and Nika-D are amongst the best in the UK. The intricate, complex flows of their lyrics and the inventive backdrops provided by DJ/producer MRK1 give ‘Sick Pay’ a playfulness sadly lacking in too many so-called ‘urban’ genres. ‘Taxman Returns’ ‘Dippin’ ‘Neva Argue’ and ‘Kane n’ Abel’ meld Eastern bhangra and Arabic sounds to Spartan drum patterns and whilst this is hardly original, it suits the frenetic lyrical flow far better than all those Timbaland-lite cut n’ paste jobs. ‘Vibrator’ has a bubbling electro feel and ‘Live At The Apollo’ uses a ‘My Sharona-esque’ guitar loop to detail how the crew have evolved over the past decade. This track and ‘Neva Argue’ also get remixes from Various Production and the whole LP hangs together as a truly accurate document of modern British inner city life both lyrically and sonically. There is sex and drug dealing and getting paid and crime and boasting and all the usual stuff of rap and a life of grime but it never feels overplayed, never feels too fantastical and clichéd just VS being honest and passionate about their own skills and experiences.
As they say on ‘Infected’ “call the nurse, cos my verses are so sick, no-one can cure me, I’m honestly poorly.” Grime has indeed infected British culture and has spawned some of the most skilfull and dexterous spit merchants this country has ever produced. Many like the Virus boys matching the turbo-flow theatrics and abstract stream of consciousness of Busta or Doom. It’s good to see labels like Planet Mu who have supported the band for four years now broadening their appeal to cover grime as well as avant-electronica. More UK labels should follow their example and offer these MCs and producers the opportunity to break out of the music industry’s self-imposed ghetto.
Release date 6-10-08
Monday, 15 September 2008
Windsurf's Coastlines/Bent's Art Of Chill/CDL Jukey
Windsurf – Coastlines (Internasjonal)
Nu-balearic LPs are like shite jokes about busses, you wait ages for one to come along and then two come together; hot on the heels of Hatchback’s ‘Colors Of The Sun,’ Sam Graw and Dan Judd’s respective Hatchback and Sorcerer aliases have fused for the first Windsurf longplayer. As with Lindstrom and Prins Thomas’s joint efforts, it’s difficult to see where Sorcerer ends and the Hatchback begins. To help us, each co-surfer has listed his own influences in the shape of a ‘cosmic ven diagram’; Sorcerer gives us the likes of Arthur Russell, Ned Doheney, Gabor Szabo, Hawaii, kung fu, dolphins, old drum machines, Todd Rundgren, Fleetwood Mac and Xanadu. Hatchback provides Vangelis, David Axelrod, Brains Eno, Conny Plank, ELO, white blazers, Fender Rhodes, Steely Dan, flea markets and Cluster.
Together, they are Windsurf and they make the kind of epic electronic AOR, some (OK, me!) have christened ‘Callyearic.’ As the title suggests, this records evokes languorous, hazy evenings with the waves lapping gently against the shoreline. With tracks called Moonlight Sun, Light As Daylight, Bird Of Paradise and The Big Island, you pretty know much what to expect. Returning home from a weekend in Wales with the September sunlight shining off the lakes and mountains of Snowdonia, it all made perfect sense (although the missus classed it as ‘boring’). It’s no coincidence that this LP is being released on Prins Thomas’s ‘Internasjonal’ imprint. If you’re tired of the cosmic-nu-balearic-scando-cally-earic hype, then I’d swerve this but if, like me, you find another wet and windy summer is only made bearable by music this warm and optimistic, then seek it out.
Release date – 27th October
The Art Of Chill – Bent (Platypus)
Would you buy a compilation called The Art Of Chill? No neither would I, so it’s lucky I got sent this from the good folks at epm. Bent are one of those bands who always appear on the zillions of ‘Now That’s What I Call The Very Best Of Ibiza Sunset Chill Bar Grooves 5’ CDs in Asda but that’s not their fault. Along with Boards Of Canada, Lamb, Groove Armada et al, Bent have become a Chill-By-Numbers outfit which is a shame because their music is often sublime and beautiful in its arrangement. This compilation provides a stunning insight into Simon Mills and Neil ‘Nail’ Tolliday’s tastes. Each Bent-ster (as we at Swine call em) ‘curates’ his own compilation and whilst the tone is similar on both, Nail’s is the more avant-garde and the more interesting. Make no mistake; there is music on this compilation that will amaze and surprise you, whether that’s minimal abstract classical, spooky disjointed electronica or perhaps one of the most remarkable singing performances I’ve ever heard; The Bulgarian Female Vocal Choir’s ‘Kalimankou Denkou.’ No shit! As the man says himself in his notes;
‘My old friend Katty played this to me about 14 years ago and I was sceptical at first. I’m glad she insisted because after about five seconds I was in floods of tears, I’d never heard anything before quite as beautiful.’
So, ignore The Art Of Chill as a brand name and seek this magnificent compilation out, you won’t be disappointed.
Release date – 13th October
Café del Lar Jukebox
Listen The Snow Is Falling – Yoko Ono & Plastic Ono Band
I Betray My Friends - OMD
Molde Canticle Pt 4 – Jan Garbarek
Never Say Never – John Martyn
Beauty & The Beast – DJ Taylor
Love Aint An Easy Thing – Neil Sedaka
Call Me (Instru) – Blondie
Livin’ For The City (Bullring Mix) – Cook da Books
TVOD – The Normal
Perfumed Garden – Rah Band
Voila – Francoise Hardy
Ice Cream Van - Glasvegas
Pigs (In There) – Robert Wyatt
Time Becomes/Planet Of The Shapes - Orbital
Nu-balearic LPs are like shite jokes about busses, you wait ages for one to come along and then two come together; hot on the heels of Hatchback’s ‘Colors Of The Sun,’ Sam Graw and Dan Judd’s respective Hatchback and Sorcerer aliases have fused for the first Windsurf longplayer. As with Lindstrom and Prins Thomas’s joint efforts, it’s difficult to see where Sorcerer ends and the Hatchback begins. To help us, each co-surfer has listed his own influences in the shape of a ‘cosmic ven diagram’; Sorcerer gives us the likes of Arthur Russell, Ned Doheney, Gabor Szabo, Hawaii, kung fu, dolphins, old drum machines, Todd Rundgren, Fleetwood Mac and Xanadu. Hatchback provides Vangelis, David Axelrod, Brains Eno, Conny Plank, ELO, white blazers, Fender Rhodes, Steely Dan, flea markets and Cluster.
Together, they are Windsurf and they make the kind of epic electronic AOR, some (OK, me!) have christened ‘Callyearic.’ As the title suggests, this records evokes languorous, hazy evenings with the waves lapping gently against the shoreline. With tracks called Moonlight Sun, Light As Daylight, Bird Of Paradise and The Big Island, you pretty know much what to expect. Returning home from a weekend in Wales with the September sunlight shining off the lakes and mountains of Snowdonia, it all made perfect sense (although the missus classed it as ‘boring’). It’s no coincidence that this LP is being released on Prins Thomas’s ‘Internasjonal’ imprint. If you’re tired of the cosmic-nu-balearic-scando-cally-earic hype, then I’d swerve this but if, like me, you find another wet and windy summer is only made bearable by music this warm and optimistic, then seek it out.
Release date – 27th October
The Art Of Chill – Bent (Platypus)
Would you buy a compilation called The Art Of Chill? No neither would I, so it’s lucky I got sent this from the good folks at epm. Bent are one of those bands who always appear on the zillions of ‘Now That’s What I Call The Very Best Of Ibiza Sunset Chill Bar Grooves 5’ CDs in Asda but that’s not their fault. Along with Boards Of Canada, Lamb, Groove Armada et al, Bent have become a Chill-By-Numbers outfit which is a shame because their music is often sublime and beautiful in its arrangement. This compilation provides a stunning insight into Simon Mills and Neil ‘Nail’ Tolliday’s tastes. Each Bent-ster (as we at Swine call em) ‘curates’ his own compilation and whilst the tone is similar on both, Nail’s is the more avant-garde and the more interesting. Make no mistake; there is music on this compilation that will amaze and surprise you, whether that’s minimal abstract classical, spooky disjointed electronica or perhaps one of the most remarkable singing performances I’ve ever heard; The Bulgarian Female Vocal Choir’s ‘Kalimankou Denkou.’ No shit! As the man says himself in his notes;
‘My old friend Katty played this to me about 14 years ago and I was sceptical at first. I’m glad she insisted because after about five seconds I was in floods of tears, I’d never heard anything before quite as beautiful.’
So, ignore The Art Of Chill as a brand name and seek this magnificent compilation out, you won’t be disappointed.
Release date – 13th October
Café del Lar Jukebox
Listen The Snow Is Falling – Yoko Ono & Plastic Ono Band
I Betray My Friends - OMD
Molde Canticle Pt 4 – Jan Garbarek
Never Say Never – John Martyn
Beauty & The Beast – DJ Taylor
Love Aint An Easy Thing – Neil Sedaka
Call Me (Instru) – Blondie
Livin’ For The City (Bullring Mix) – Cook da Books
TVOD – The Normal
Perfumed Garden – Rah Band
Voila – Francoise Hardy
Ice Cream Van - Glasvegas
Pigs (In There) – Robert Wyatt
Time Becomes/Planet Of The Shapes - Orbital
Monday, 1 September 2008
All Good - Runcorn's very own Sanctuary.
The brief was simple - classic disco, funk n' soul - the DFS approach. The venue; my local' the Traveller's Rest (aka The Tup) in Runcorn, where unbelievably I had one of my best New Year's Eve's last year with local northern DJs cooking up a storm. Always a bit of a backwater, Runcorn's 'dance scene' such as it is, never really recovered from the closure of Gaz Crilly's brilliant 'Stoned Soul Picnic' nights at the Panorama and later The View if Frodsham.
Runcorn, like Widnes and Warrington has always had a strong allegiance to northern and at one point Halton (the joint borough of Widnes and Runcorn) had it's own Soul Club which basically meant local DJ and 'character' Harry Dennett persuading Edwin Starr and the like to (rumour has it) stay over at his terraced house on the Grange council estate (where I grew up) before appearing at the Queen's Hall in Widnes at various alldayers. Some of these events were great but the northern scene has always been a strange, closed world and as we realised that anything that deviated slightly from the Detroit/60s template would NEVER be accepted in such purist circles, we moved onto clubs in Liverpool and Manchester (and even places like Blackburn's Peppermint Place) where 'progressive' dance music was played.
This was the mid-80s before house totally took over and our little crew were regulars at most events in the surrounding area, especially the first Upnorth weekenders in Blackpool and Southport. And now we're all getting older and some of us have grown up kids and some of have young kids and most of us can't be arsed driving out to Manchester or Liverpool, so we make do with life in a (very boring) northern town.
Ofcourse we could've played the latest Terje remixes and deep Estonian space-disco 12s from 1978 but instead began with Barry White's version of 'Standing In The Shadows Of Love' and ended with Shalamar's 'Night To Remember.'
Inbetween there was Philly, Stax, Gamble, Atlantic, Motown, RAK (Mickey Most - Britain's Tom Moulton? We think so!), West End, Casablanca, Solar, Tamla, Jay Boy, Buddha, Fourth & Broadway, King, Ze, Verve, Direction, Salsoul, Whitfield, TSOP and Prelude; nothing too obscure (although the Eddie Kendricks instrumental version of I Am A Cider Drinker got the trainspotters pestering me for the identity of my cover-up), nothing too pretentious or conceptual, not the kind of stuff we'd really play for ourselves given a totally free reign, but hey, this is fucking RUNCORN!!
We enjoyed it, so did the crowd and even the bouncers joined in for the finale 'get ready, baaaby, tonight, darrrrlin' gonna make this a niiiiight to remeeeeemberrrr!' Now fuck off, the milkman's here!
Runcorn, like Widnes and Warrington has always had a strong allegiance to northern and at one point Halton (the joint borough of Widnes and Runcorn) had it's own Soul Club which basically meant local DJ and 'character' Harry Dennett persuading Edwin Starr and the like to (rumour has it) stay over at his terraced house on the Grange council estate (where I grew up) before appearing at the Queen's Hall in Widnes at various alldayers. Some of these events were great but the northern scene has always been a strange, closed world and as we realised that anything that deviated slightly from the Detroit/60s template would NEVER be accepted in such purist circles, we moved onto clubs in Liverpool and Manchester (and even places like Blackburn's Peppermint Place) where 'progressive' dance music was played.
This was the mid-80s before house totally took over and our little crew were regulars at most events in the surrounding area, especially the first Upnorth weekenders in Blackpool and Southport. And now we're all getting older and some of us have grown up kids and some of have young kids and most of us can't be arsed driving out to Manchester or Liverpool, so we make do with life in a (very boring) northern town.
Ofcourse we could've played the latest Terje remixes and deep Estonian space-disco 12s from 1978 but instead began with Barry White's version of 'Standing In The Shadows Of Love' and ended with Shalamar's 'Night To Remember.'
Inbetween there was Philly, Stax, Gamble, Atlantic, Motown, RAK (Mickey Most - Britain's Tom Moulton? We think so!), West End, Casablanca, Solar, Tamla, Jay Boy, Buddha, Fourth & Broadway, King, Ze, Verve, Direction, Salsoul, Whitfield, TSOP and Prelude; nothing too obscure (although the Eddie Kendricks instrumental version of I Am A Cider Drinker got the trainspotters pestering me for the identity of my cover-up), nothing too pretentious or conceptual, not the kind of stuff we'd really play for ourselves given a totally free reign, but hey, this is fucking RUNCORN!!
We enjoyed it, so did the crowd and even the bouncers joined in for the finale 'get ready, baaaby, tonight, darrrrlin' gonna make this a niiiiight to remeeeeemberrrr!' Now fuck off, the milkman's here!
Friday, 29 August 2008
Detroit Grand Pubahs/Rza Bobby Digital
another few reviews if you be arsed.
Detroit Grand Pubahs ' Nuttin Butt Funk (Det.Ele.Funk)
Somewhere along the way techno lost da funk. I don't really know when this happened having lost interest in Detroit's 'hi-tech jazz' somewhere in the mid-90s. Bleep I could live with and whilst I admired the Cornish tech miners (Aphex, Vibert) and the likes of Autechre, Paradinas, Jenkinson, their brand of 'drill n' bass' operated somewhere on the outer reaches of intergalactic funk. Meanwhile whilst appreciating Hawtin's minimalist genius, his techwank left me cold. Jeff Mills, Carl Craig, UR all passed me by to be honest.
So, I've been attempting to re-educate myself over the past four years or so. What confuses me is all the hybrids; tech-house, intelligent glitchkore, tech-dub, booty-step, deep-click etc. But what it all boils down really is da funk. Modern funk, mutant funk, funk not as a 70s pimpsploitation cliche but as an evolving technological artform.
When the UK and Germany replaced Detroit as the centres for techno's commercial and some would say artistic centre, the circle seemed complete; Kraftwerk's Teutonic synth-funk influences black American musicians and DJs who produce their own takes on this sound and export back to the Fatherland. Yet what the music lost in this process was the essential funk of the grooves.
Nuttin Butt Funk reasserts the essence of Detroit Techno, not that it ever went away but serves as a timely reminder that for all the recent hype surrounding the likes of Villalobos et al, back in the ghettoes that spawned techno, the emphasis is still on the visceral thump thump head noddin' qualities of the music.
Beginning with the cosmic opener (costech?) track 'Skydive From Venus' with its tinkling piano and muffled bass, this LP takes in pounding tits out stompers like 'Message From Overkill' and 'Crystal', the best p-funk tune Clinton never made, 'Rollin' Paper & Bush,' the squelchy electro of 'Earth Hoes', deep tech flow of '50,000 Legions', the insane whump whump hardcore of 'ChiTown Shuffle' and several deeply silly 'skits.'
There is a seriousness to some tracks especially the Funkadelic style Rollin' Paper & Bush which takes a swipe at the cultural appropriation of black art forms, although this is balanced with the humourous (yet deeply sexist) 'Earth Hoes' and 'Butt Market.' The Grand Pubahs are not sonic crusaders like UR or Mills, they offer GettoTech that is accessible to even non-techno disciples such as myelf. Nuttin Butt Funk indeed.
Rza as Bobby Digital - Digi Snacks (Bodog)
Rappers, like squaddies exist in a state of perpetual adolescence. They appear to have rejected the usual trajectory of adulthood - responsibilities and all that boring straight shit - to indulge in a blunts n' hoes Utopia of sex n' weed on tap. OK, so most people in the music biz act in a similar way but rappers, even supposedly intelligent ones like Rza, appear to wallow in this shallow pool of decadent sensuality for far longer than most. Having a dig at Robert Diggs is hip hop heresy but here goes;
Let's begin with the artwork. The illustrated front cover sees our masked hero on a throne, surrounded by six concubines of varying ethnic origin. The usual Wu quasi-Samurai/Kung Fu adornments accompany this Digital despot and he stares coldly, dispassionately at us, like some terrible sultan about to pass sentence of death by a thousand cuts. The inside comic artwork attempts to convey some kind of dark urban narrative to the LP, as if it's a 'concept' maaan. Yet what we get is just the same old, same old. Guns n' sex n' quack science n' third rate philosophy. And it's not bad, some of it the epic 'You Can't Stop Me Now' and the superb 'Don't Be Afraid' are equal to any other Rza or solo Wu effort, it's just.....you expect MORE from Rza.
The Wu are thru! They've had their moment in the sun and for a while they were as important and vital in re-shaping hip hop for a new decade, a new generation as had been Public Enemy or De La Soul. Their problem was stretching the Rza sonic template far too wide. The initial lo-fi thrill of 36 Chambers was replaced by formula beats, familiar tricks, leaden, lazy raps. Too much of Digi Snacks is just Rza by numbers, it leads nowhere, it's a sonic, aesthetic and commercial dead end. Hip hop has always evolved to sustain itself but it seems that Rza and the entire Wu collective have simply ran out of steam. There are younger, hungier rappers and producers out there and perhaps, Bobby Digital should take a look around and y'know grow up a bit.
Detroit Grand Pubahs ' Nuttin Butt Funk (Det.Ele.Funk)
Somewhere along the way techno lost da funk. I don't really know when this happened having lost interest in Detroit's 'hi-tech jazz' somewhere in the mid-90s. Bleep I could live with and whilst I admired the Cornish tech miners (Aphex, Vibert) and the likes of Autechre, Paradinas, Jenkinson, their brand of 'drill n' bass' operated somewhere on the outer reaches of intergalactic funk. Meanwhile whilst appreciating Hawtin's minimalist genius, his techwank left me cold. Jeff Mills, Carl Craig, UR all passed me by to be honest.
So, I've been attempting to re-educate myself over the past four years or so. What confuses me is all the hybrids; tech-house, intelligent glitchkore, tech-dub, booty-step, deep-click etc. But what it all boils down really is da funk. Modern funk, mutant funk, funk not as a 70s pimpsploitation cliche but as an evolving technological artform.
When the UK and Germany replaced Detroit as the centres for techno's commercial and some would say artistic centre, the circle seemed complete; Kraftwerk's Teutonic synth-funk influences black American musicians and DJs who produce their own takes on this sound and export back to the Fatherland. Yet what the music lost in this process was the essential funk of the grooves.
Nuttin Butt Funk reasserts the essence of Detroit Techno, not that it ever went away but serves as a timely reminder that for all the recent hype surrounding the likes of Villalobos et al, back in the ghettoes that spawned techno, the emphasis is still on the visceral thump thump head noddin' qualities of the music.
Beginning with the cosmic opener (costech?) track 'Skydive From Venus' with its tinkling piano and muffled bass, this LP takes in pounding tits out stompers like 'Message From Overkill' and 'Crystal', the best p-funk tune Clinton never made, 'Rollin' Paper & Bush,' the squelchy electro of 'Earth Hoes', deep tech flow of '50,000 Legions', the insane whump whump hardcore of 'ChiTown Shuffle' and several deeply silly 'skits.'
There is a seriousness to some tracks especially the Funkadelic style Rollin' Paper & Bush which takes a swipe at the cultural appropriation of black art forms, although this is balanced with the humourous (yet deeply sexist) 'Earth Hoes' and 'Butt Market.' The Grand Pubahs are not sonic crusaders like UR or Mills, they offer GettoTech that is accessible to even non-techno disciples such as myelf. Nuttin Butt Funk indeed.
Rza as Bobby Digital - Digi Snacks (Bodog)
Rappers, like squaddies exist in a state of perpetual adolescence. They appear to have rejected the usual trajectory of adulthood - responsibilities and all that boring straight shit - to indulge in a blunts n' hoes Utopia of sex n' weed on tap. OK, so most people in the music biz act in a similar way but rappers, even supposedly intelligent ones like Rza, appear to wallow in this shallow pool of decadent sensuality for far longer than most. Having a dig at Robert Diggs is hip hop heresy but here goes;
Let's begin with the artwork. The illustrated front cover sees our masked hero on a throne, surrounded by six concubines of varying ethnic origin. The usual Wu quasi-Samurai/Kung Fu adornments accompany this Digital despot and he stares coldly, dispassionately at us, like some terrible sultan about to pass sentence of death by a thousand cuts. The inside comic artwork attempts to convey some kind of dark urban narrative to the LP, as if it's a 'concept' maaan. Yet what we get is just the same old, same old. Guns n' sex n' quack science n' third rate philosophy. And it's not bad, some of it the epic 'You Can't Stop Me Now' and the superb 'Don't Be Afraid' are equal to any other Rza or solo Wu effort, it's just.....you expect MORE from Rza.
The Wu are thru! They've had their moment in the sun and for a while they were as important and vital in re-shaping hip hop for a new decade, a new generation as had been Public Enemy or De La Soul. Their problem was stretching the Rza sonic template far too wide. The initial lo-fi thrill of 36 Chambers was replaced by formula beats, familiar tricks, leaden, lazy raps. Too much of Digi Snacks is just Rza by numbers, it leads nowhere, it's a sonic, aesthetic and commercial dead end. Hip hop has always evolved to sustain itself but it seems that Rza and the entire Wu collective have simply ran out of steam. There are younger, hungier rappers and producers out there and perhaps, Bobby Digital should take a look around and y'know grow up a bit.
Thursday, 28 August 2008
Hang Loose fanzine 1990
Yet another of my short-lived and totally unsuccessful attempts to enter the lo-fi world of fanzine culture armed only with a marker pen, a friendly typist at work and the Dept Of Lies trusty photocopier. If I could be arsed scanning it in, I would but I can't so here are a few slected bits n' bobs from issue 2
Fashion Forecast Winter 90-91
2nd hand socks
slip-on undies
putting your hair in a bun (dig at deee-lite? can't remember)
prussian aristocrat muzzies (weatherall got the idea here)
sad cardys with maps of africa on the back (Harvey got the idea here)
sumo wrestler barnets (dee-lite again?)
dressing like a hassidic jew
violet, orange and yellow checked trews (rupert got the idea here)
fireman helmets
balloon jeans and smoothy belts
bukta trackies
Boys Brigade hats
cut-down pacamacs
digital watches that bleep
suede socks
platform slippers
adidas tattoos on your buttocks
bullet belts
camouflage staffs
double-breasted t-shirts
george best yeti beards
jummy sale parkas with no arms
skiddy kilts
'i think the poll tax is a rather good idea actually' t-shirts
CID raincoats
afro wigs
Pensionari
It's the youth cult that's sweeping the nation. Yes all across Britain kids are copying the dress sense of their grandparents for that authentic OAP look which the fashion press have Christened 'Pensionari' - out have gone hooded jeans and baggy shoes, in have come brown check suits, trilbys, scuffed hobnails and starched vests. 'Pensionari' don't drive around in flash cars, they gather at bus stops and moan about the poll tax, kids today, bus fares etc. Their favourite meeting places are post offices, cafes, poll tax demonstrations and funerals. They are vociferous and they know their rights. Top accessories include war medals, tartan shopping trollies, lethal weapon walking sticks and massive bags full of dog food, chicory coffee, butterscotch toffees, sticks of rhubarb and pig's bladders. Don't ever fuck with the pensionari or you'll get a herring slapped in your face sharpish!
No Guru, No Method, No Teacher - Hang Loose Playlist
reasons to be cheerful pt 3 - ian dury
it's her factory - gang of four
it's a love thing - the whispers
soul bongo - little stevie
scorpio - grandmaster flash
cloud 9 - the temptations
staisfaction guaranteed - harold melvin and the bluenotes
let the world wait for you - archie bell and the drells
cast a spell - the turnpikes
look through my eyes - rufus and chaka khan
lions after slumber - scritti politti
one trick pony - paul simon
rumours - hot chocolate
undercover - rolling stones
pyjamarama - roxy music
black dahlia - david toop
interference - model 500
amor amor - gipsy kings
bewildered - james brown
walk on into my heart - bobbie smith
smokey - funkadelic
theme from barney miller
i'm down - the beatles
what can i do - boz scaggs
mardi gras - lonnie liston smith
talkin all that jazz - stetsasonic
transmitting live from mars - de la soul
oasis - happy mondays
funeral pyre - the jam
dazed and confused - led zepellin
stick it all in, fuck off the purists, checkpoint charlie is no more! (ah the idealism of youth)
Are You Ready For The Crazy Sound Of Ulster?
Put on your balaclava and hijack the nearest taxi cos Ulster Beat is with us. Every day down at the docks you can see the fun-loving gangs of happy-go-lucky paramilitaries waxing their kalashnikovs in readiness for a day of surfin' and knee-cappin.' Here are some of Ulsterbeat's top records:
Surfin' UDA
Two Guns For Every Boy
Good Bomb Vibrations
When I Grow Up To Be A Terrorist
Five New Music Crazes For 1991
Indie-Bhangra - groups such as The Wedding Present, Ned's Atomic Dustbin and The Pixies will crossover/sell out by fusing their guitar frenzied rock with Indian sitars and bongos to create a totally poo musical hybrid - Top Tune : I'm Into Footy Me by Ravi Shankar feat Liu Reed and The Fall
Coma Pulse Music - New Age landscapes for people who enjoy listening to seaweed. Burnt out tossers from 1973 into synthesisers will concoct an ethereal mood music which combines life support system noises and mating dolphins - Top Tune : Cumulus Rex by Brian Eno feat a shoal of migrating salmon (think this was aimed at The Orb)
Orkney Beat - A new dance sound created when top house DJs holiday in the Orkneys and bring back the eclectic happy-go-lucky spirit of Highland Scotland to London clubs - Top Record : Straight Outa Peebles by MC Mungo McTavish feat Paul Oakenfold
Thrashrap - A musical collision of thrash metal and hip hop performed by long haired mid-west metal bands in sad trainers and Public Enemy t-shirts. Every band will have a black bass player with dreadlocks and a mad lead singer with skateboard tattoos. Top Tune : Da Bitch Done Dissed Me by Faith No More feat Saddam Husseinski
Pubadelic - Two bit pub bands with 16 year old drummers will buy lots of War LPs and sample rioting Leeds fans to produce a groundbreaking fusion of badly played Bootsy Collins basslines and Sham 69 prole vocals. Top Tune - There's Only One Georgey Clinton by Flowered Up feat Sly Stone.
Clubbed Senseless
The whole world it seems has been convinced into believing that 'clubbing' is the only relevant form of leisure-time in the 90s. Goths, doleys, estate agents, plumbers, actors, peelers, vicars...you name it, they're all participating in the latest crazzy youth phenomenon. Ofcourse back in the early 80s it was a West End clique of veteran trendys who recieved all the glory. Face, i-D and Blue Rondo types formed a mutual appreciation society and advertised their irrelevant lifestyles as some kind of recession-escapist Nirvana.
Then the acid scene dumped these self-important W1 wankers firmly on their arses and democratised the dancefloor Karl Marx stylee. The only problem now being that every Tom, Dick and Barry Grant got in on the act and the bad old days of elistism didn't seem that bad after all. An influx of dodgy indie kids, Sloanes, beer monsters and general bints was bound to cause a snobbish backlash but if we're going to return to Bob Elms types in their Telecom Des Garcons whistles ( I know the banana) supping Thai rice wine and discussing Dada, then I suggest that other avenues of leisuredom be explored. How about fly-fishing, hiking, making balloon animals, sheep farming or simply going to bed at 7.30 with a book a glass of Vimto?
Taking Penalties - How the stars do it
Mark Hughes scissor kicks it
Chris Waddle dummys it
Vinny Jones jumps on it and stabs it
Gazza stuffs it up his shirt and runs into the back of the nets with it
John Barnes runs up, falls down and claims a penalty (and gets it)
Clayton Blackmore rapes it
Peter Beardsley scares it to death
Brian McClair snots all over it
Mo Johnstone buys it a drink and then glasses it
Cherry Faves (local disco-tek's top tunes from 82/83)
african and white - chinca crisis
burn rubber on me - gap band
rescue - echo and the bunnymen
the model - kraftwerk
give it to me baby - rick james
rock the casbah - the clash
messages - omd
not just knee deep - funkadelic
magic's wand - whodini
funkin for jamaica - tom browne
Fashion Forecast Winter 90-91
2nd hand socks
slip-on undies
putting your hair in a bun (dig at deee-lite? can't remember)
prussian aristocrat muzzies (weatherall got the idea here)
sad cardys with maps of africa on the back (Harvey got the idea here)
sumo wrestler barnets (dee-lite again?)
dressing like a hassidic jew
violet, orange and yellow checked trews (rupert got the idea here)
fireman helmets
balloon jeans and smoothy belts
bukta trackies
Boys Brigade hats
cut-down pacamacs
digital watches that bleep
suede socks
platform slippers
adidas tattoos on your buttocks
bullet belts
camouflage staffs
double-breasted t-shirts
george best yeti beards
jummy sale parkas with no arms
skiddy kilts
'i think the poll tax is a rather good idea actually' t-shirts
CID raincoats
afro wigs
Pensionari
It's the youth cult that's sweeping the nation. Yes all across Britain kids are copying the dress sense of their grandparents for that authentic OAP look which the fashion press have Christened 'Pensionari' - out have gone hooded jeans and baggy shoes, in have come brown check suits, trilbys, scuffed hobnails and starched vests. 'Pensionari' don't drive around in flash cars, they gather at bus stops and moan about the poll tax, kids today, bus fares etc. Their favourite meeting places are post offices, cafes, poll tax demonstrations and funerals. They are vociferous and they know their rights. Top accessories include war medals, tartan shopping trollies, lethal weapon walking sticks and massive bags full of dog food, chicory coffee, butterscotch toffees, sticks of rhubarb and pig's bladders. Don't ever fuck with the pensionari or you'll get a herring slapped in your face sharpish!
No Guru, No Method, No Teacher - Hang Loose Playlist
reasons to be cheerful pt 3 - ian dury
it's her factory - gang of four
it's a love thing - the whispers
soul bongo - little stevie
scorpio - grandmaster flash
cloud 9 - the temptations
staisfaction guaranteed - harold melvin and the bluenotes
let the world wait for you - archie bell and the drells
cast a spell - the turnpikes
look through my eyes - rufus and chaka khan
lions after slumber - scritti politti
one trick pony - paul simon
rumours - hot chocolate
undercover - rolling stones
pyjamarama - roxy music
black dahlia - david toop
interference - model 500
amor amor - gipsy kings
bewildered - james brown
walk on into my heart - bobbie smith
smokey - funkadelic
theme from barney miller
i'm down - the beatles
what can i do - boz scaggs
mardi gras - lonnie liston smith
talkin all that jazz - stetsasonic
transmitting live from mars - de la soul
oasis - happy mondays
funeral pyre - the jam
dazed and confused - led zepellin
stick it all in, fuck off the purists, checkpoint charlie is no more! (ah the idealism of youth)
Are You Ready For The Crazy Sound Of Ulster?
Put on your balaclava and hijack the nearest taxi cos Ulster Beat is with us. Every day down at the docks you can see the fun-loving gangs of happy-go-lucky paramilitaries waxing their kalashnikovs in readiness for a day of surfin' and knee-cappin.' Here are some of Ulsterbeat's top records:
Surfin' UDA
Two Guns For Every Boy
Good Bomb Vibrations
When I Grow Up To Be A Terrorist
Five New Music Crazes For 1991
Indie-Bhangra - groups such as The Wedding Present, Ned's Atomic Dustbin and The Pixies will crossover/sell out by fusing their guitar frenzied rock with Indian sitars and bongos to create a totally poo musical hybrid - Top Tune : I'm Into Footy Me by Ravi Shankar feat Liu Reed and The Fall
Coma Pulse Music - New Age landscapes for people who enjoy listening to seaweed. Burnt out tossers from 1973 into synthesisers will concoct an ethereal mood music which combines life support system noises and mating dolphins - Top Tune : Cumulus Rex by Brian Eno feat a shoal of migrating salmon (think this was aimed at The Orb)
Orkney Beat - A new dance sound created when top house DJs holiday in the Orkneys and bring back the eclectic happy-go-lucky spirit of Highland Scotland to London clubs - Top Record : Straight Outa Peebles by MC Mungo McTavish feat Paul Oakenfold
Thrashrap - A musical collision of thrash metal and hip hop performed by long haired mid-west metal bands in sad trainers and Public Enemy t-shirts. Every band will have a black bass player with dreadlocks and a mad lead singer with skateboard tattoos. Top Tune : Da Bitch Done Dissed Me by Faith No More feat Saddam Husseinski
Pubadelic - Two bit pub bands with 16 year old drummers will buy lots of War LPs and sample rioting Leeds fans to produce a groundbreaking fusion of badly played Bootsy Collins basslines and Sham 69 prole vocals. Top Tune - There's Only One Georgey Clinton by Flowered Up feat Sly Stone.
Clubbed Senseless
The whole world it seems has been convinced into believing that 'clubbing' is the only relevant form of leisure-time in the 90s. Goths, doleys, estate agents, plumbers, actors, peelers, vicars...you name it, they're all participating in the latest crazzy youth phenomenon. Ofcourse back in the early 80s it was a West End clique of veteran trendys who recieved all the glory. Face, i-D and Blue Rondo types formed a mutual appreciation society and advertised their irrelevant lifestyles as some kind of recession-escapist Nirvana.
Then the acid scene dumped these self-important W1 wankers firmly on their arses and democratised the dancefloor Karl Marx stylee. The only problem now being that every Tom, Dick and Barry Grant got in on the act and the bad old days of elistism didn't seem that bad after all. An influx of dodgy indie kids, Sloanes, beer monsters and general bints was bound to cause a snobbish backlash but if we're going to return to Bob Elms types in their Telecom Des Garcons whistles ( I know the banana) supping Thai rice wine and discussing Dada, then I suggest that other avenues of leisuredom be explored. How about fly-fishing, hiking, making balloon animals, sheep farming or simply going to bed at 7.30 with a book a glass of Vimto?
Taking Penalties - How the stars do it
Mark Hughes scissor kicks it
Chris Waddle dummys it
Vinny Jones jumps on it and stabs it
Gazza stuffs it up his shirt and runs into the back of the nets with it
John Barnes runs up, falls down and claims a penalty (and gets it)
Clayton Blackmore rapes it
Peter Beardsley scares it to death
Brian McClair snots all over it
Mo Johnstone buys it a drink and then glasses it
Cherry Faves (local disco-tek's top tunes from 82/83)
african and white - chinca crisis
burn rubber on me - gap band
rescue - echo and the bunnymen
the model - kraftwerk
give it to me baby - rick james
rock the casbah - the clash
messages - omd
not just knee deep - funkadelic
magic's wand - whodini
funkin for jamaica - tom browne
Tuesday, 19 August 2008
August/September New Releases
Hatchback - Colours Of The Sun (Lo Recordings)
Music like this and that of the Scandolearic Dons could only be made by the sea. Whether it's Samuel Milton Grawe aka Hatchback's California or Rune Lindbaek's Norway, there's the feeling of open expanses and salt air and - yawn - space! Lots of space, space inbetween the spaces, both physical and spiritual. Endless horizons and miles of desolate shoreline. After being The Sorcerer's apprentice for a while, Quick Draw McGrawe has emerged as a real challanger to Dan Judd's cosmo-cali crown with this startlingly good LP. Recording together as Windsurf, they share a similar ethos, reclaiming the AOR West Coast heritage and fusing it with Euro synth-prog to produce 21st century epics. Essential!
Release Date - 22nd September
Various - Cosmic Balearic Beats Vol 1 (Eskimo)
The original Bealric Beats Vol 1 (there never was a Vol2) was released 20 years ago in 1988 and maybe more than any other compliation, changed what we now call 'dance' music for ever. With the re-birth of interest in all things 'balearic' this release is a timely reminder that the original ethos of balearia never went away. Mixed by Skinny Joey, these tracks serve as an antidote to the likes of Fred Deakin's cash-in Nu-Balearica comp on Ministry Of Sound (are they STILL going?). Maybe it's a tribute to that original Ibizan template of togetherness that a Belgian label has served up a cracking tribute to Balearic Beats with contributions form the UK, US, Belgium, Germany and Italy. Wasn't that what Amnesia was supposed to be all about?
Release Date - 6th October
Red Snapper - Pale Blue Dot (Lo Recordings)
More fishocentric funk from the Snappers, now back to a three piece and honking that Fela-esque sax with wild abandon. After listening to nowt but nu-cosmo-balearia-space-disco for the last three centuries, Red Snapper's organic blend of afro-dub-funk-electronica comes as a bit of a refreshing change. There are even cosmic-rockabilly (cockabilly??)tinges here with dub-slap-bass action and two remixes;Subway's take on Brickred and my favourite, the Kelpe remix of Clam. This LP (extended EP really - only 6 tracks plus the two remixes) was recorded live in the studio and that really comes across with an almost freestyle/jam feel to the tracks, but ina good way! Good to have the whippersnappers back after too long an absence.
Release Date - 6th October
Thanks to Jonas at epm for review copies
Other CDL recommendations
Funky Nassau - The Compass Point Story 1980-1986 (Strut)
Been out a while this but is essential listening for anyone with even the slightest interest in the evolution of modern music. Put simply, Chris Blackwell of Island Record's Bahamian studio became perhaps the most innovative production space of the 80s with its 'drum n' bass' super-duo, Sly and Robbie, producer Wally Badarou and the creme of New York's No Wave/Mutant Disco crowd all maxing n' relaxin and soaking up the laidback Caribbean vibes. Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Talking Heads, Gwen Guthrie, Ian Dury, Chaz Jankel, Will Powers tracks, FK, Larry Levan mixes, dubs, 12 inch versions, obscurities, there's something different about all these tracks, even the familiar ones. Lovingly packaged with extensive sleevenotes, this is the kind of compliation that makes me weep when I see all those tacky Ibiza Bliss abortions stocked up in row after row of funky house Fierce Angel futility.
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago (4AD)
The sthick goes like this; Justin Vernon aka Bon Iver (French for Good Winter if you knock off an H) splits with bird, retreats into the wilds of Wisconsin during the winter of 2006/07 and pours his heart and soul into these nine tracks of loneliness and despair. In his freezing wooden shack, Bon kills and eats a deer to keep him going and with only the merest hint of production and 'additional recording' the songs write themselves. It's a good story and I even think some of it may be true. There's no doubting Bon's despair, each song being more or less an ode to his ex, the Emma of the title no doubt. I should hate it but there's no two ways about it, this is a beautiful record with Vernon's achingly morose voice and the spartan arrangements highlighting the minimalist 'one man and his songs' philosophy of the 'concept.' There are elements of Jose Gonzalez's stripped bare guitar style and the alt-folk-harmonics of Fleet Foxes. At times the lyrics are at once self-indulgent 'and if all your love was wasted then who the hell was I?' yet totally heartfelt. I'd advise Justin 'to get over it' but if he did, then he wouldn't have produced such a gorgeous record as this.
Music like this and that of the Scandolearic Dons could only be made by the sea. Whether it's Samuel Milton Grawe aka Hatchback's California or Rune Lindbaek's Norway, there's the feeling of open expanses and salt air and - yawn - space! Lots of space, space inbetween the spaces, both physical and spiritual. Endless horizons and miles of desolate shoreline. After being The Sorcerer's apprentice for a while, Quick Draw McGrawe has emerged as a real challanger to Dan Judd's cosmo-cali crown with this startlingly good LP. Recording together as Windsurf, they share a similar ethos, reclaiming the AOR West Coast heritage and fusing it with Euro synth-prog to produce 21st century epics. Essential!
Release Date - 22nd September
Various - Cosmic Balearic Beats Vol 1 (Eskimo)
The original Bealric Beats Vol 1 (there never was a Vol2) was released 20 years ago in 1988 and maybe more than any other compliation, changed what we now call 'dance' music for ever. With the re-birth of interest in all things 'balearic' this release is a timely reminder that the original ethos of balearia never went away. Mixed by Skinny Joey, these tracks serve as an antidote to the likes of Fred Deakin's cash-in Nu-Balearica comp on Ministry Of Sound (are they STILL going?). Maybe it's a tribute to that original Ibizan template of togetherness that a Belgian label has served up a cracking tribute to Balearic Beats with contributions form the UK, US, Belgium, Germany and Italy. Wasn't that what Amnesia was supposed to be all about?
Release Date - 6th October
Red Snapper - Pale Blue Dot (Lo Recordings)
More fishocentric funk from the Snappers, now back to a three piece and honking that Fela-esque sax with wild abandon. After listening to nowt but nu-cosmo-balearia-space-disco for the last three centuries, Red Snapper's organic blend of afro-dub-funk-electronica comes as a bit of a refreshing change. There are even cosmic-rockabilly (cockabilly??)tinges here with dub-slap-bass action and two remixes;Subway's take on Brickred and my favourite, the Kelpe remix of Clam. This LP (extended EP really - only 6 tracks plus the two remixes) was recorded live in the studio and that really comes across with an almost freestyle/jam feel to the tracks, but ina good way! Good to have the whippersnappers back after too long an absence.
Release Date - 6th October
Thanks to Jonas at epm for review copies
Other CDL recommendations
Funky Nassau - The Compass Point Story 1980-1986 (Strut)
Been out a while this but is essential listening for anyone with even the slightest interest in the evolution of modern music. Put simply, Chris Blackwell of Island Record's Bahamian studio became perhaps the most innovative production space of the 80s with its 'drum n' bass' super-duo, Sly and Robbie, producer Wally Badarou and the creme of New York's No Wave/Mutant Disco crowd all maxing n' relaxin and soaking up the laidback Caribbean vibes. Grace Jones, Tom Tom Club, Talking Heads, Gwen Guthrie, Ian Dury, Chaz Jankel, Will Powers tracks, FK, Larry Levan mixes, dubs, 12 inch versions, obscurities, there's something different about all these tracks, even the familiar ones. Lovingly packaged with extensive sleevenotes, this is the kind of compliation that makes me weep when I see all those tacky Ibiza Bliss abortions stocked up in row after row of funky house Fierce Angel futility.
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago (4AD)
The sthick goes like this; Justin Vernon aka Bon Iver (French for Good Winter if you knock off an H) splits with bird, retreats into the wilds of Wisconsin during the winter of 2006/07 and pours his heart and soul into these nine tracks of loneliness and despair. In his freezing wooden shack, Bon kills and eats a deer to keep him going and with only the merest hint of production and 'additional recording' the songs write themselves. It's a good story and I even think some of it may be true. There's no doubting Bon's despair, each song being more or less an ode to his ex, the Emma of the title no doubt. I should hate it but there's no two ways about it, this is a beautiful record with Vernon's achingly morose voice and the spartan arrangements highlighting the minimalist 'one man and his songs' philosophy of the 'concept.' There are elements of Jose Gonzalez's stripped bare guitar style and the alt-folk-harmonics of Fleet Foxes. At times the lyrics are at once self-indulgent 'and if all your love was wasted then who the hell was I?' yet totally heartfelt. I'd advise Justin 'to get over it' but if he did, then he wouldn't have produced such a gorgeous record as this.
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