Since 2014, Eilean Records has been releasing electroacoustic ambient music. It is made clear on their website that, to the label, the definition of what it means to be electronic is fluid. Despite the non-profit and independent record label being based in France, “eilean” is the Scottish Gaelic word for “island.” The label is built around the idea of an imaginary island where 100 points or locations exist. Each release on this label represents one of these points. The musical artist shapes what this region of the island looks like–the colors, the shape, all the details–and when all 100 locations of the island have been defined and the map is full, the label will end.
Tatsuro Kojima describes his approach to music as being directly tied to his specialized education in visual art. The Japanese artist, born in 1977, is also an active web designer, graphic designer, and mobile app developer. His music takes a form that might be closer to that of paintings and sculptures. The visual cues that are so important to Kojima’s work lend themselves perfectly for the map projected of Eilean Records. A landscape is effortlessly built on the spring green shores of the eastern coastal island Kojima contributes to the Eilean map.
The album opens with “1111” setting a playful standard for the sound of the rest of the album. Bright synths and pianos sound with a youthful ignorance as if gleefully exploring every timbral option available. The synth sounds slowly thin in texture and fade out leaving a solo piano for a brief moment acting as a final breath satisfied and exhausted by the exploration that took place. “Transparency” slowly fades in. We begin with distance between ourselves and the sound. The intimacy of the sound increases revealing metallic percussive hits and chimes that take up the foreground without overpowering the more opaque and breathy background. A melodic loop is introduced and begins to phase with the rest of the layers creating melodic variations that stem from the original chimes. Behind pensive piano chords, the sounds of children and their parents occupy “Flutter.” Early in the track these sounds present themselves as joy, but as the track continues this line is blurred. With a melancholic tone continuing to come from the piano I begin to wonder if these screams are truly ones of joy. Could these be more screams of discomfort or even pain? The crowd noise becomes increasingly more dense before fading and leaving a sustained organ. “0103” leaves me feeling slightly empty. The music-box-like bells provide a nice continuation in the theme that has been established in the sound, however the track presents itself as very emotionally ambiguous. It is certainly a track about stillness. “Katai Hikari” is the longest track on the album, yet I felt hypnotized to the point where its 10-minutes almost stood still. The sound of filtered wind noise and closely mic’d footsteps suffocate the early moments of the piece before a melody reminiscent of what you might hear from a clock tower enters. Tremolo is used sparsely throughout giving it some movement and glimmer. The simple clock tower melody is soon being played on multiple instruments and is spliced together with each instrument contributing a note or two. This creates an interesting effect tricking the brain into hearing these separate timbres and coming from a single event. The album closes with “Pipo” and a feeling that a sense of unity was found. From the opening moments of a -> b, an exploratory tone is set. The seemingly random nature of the first track gives a feeling of beautiful disorganization. In terms of instrumentation and timbre, “1111” and “Pipo” feel related. The synths in “Pipo” have found a harmonious and organized way to coexist and shine brightly in the album’s closing number. Point number 11 on the Eilean map is established with a youthful and organic glow through the eyes of Kojima. His deeply visual approach to music paints vivid textures that come from an effortless blend of field recordings and electronic elements. 
øjeRum hails from Copenhagen, Denmark. Known as a both a musician and collage artist, he continues a trend of Eilean Records contributors whose crossover between the sonic and visual artistic mediums lead to strikingly vivid depictions of landscapes on the island of Eilean.
For øjeRum’s second release on Eilean we travel to the north-eastern part of the island during a white and grey winter. Comprised of 15 tracks, Nattesne is a window into a delicate and desolate world. “I” feels from the past, almost ancient. There is distance between the slow swells and the listener. Echoes of what sound like the wood innerworkings of the instrument begin to sound breaking up the consistent and mostly high-pitched melody. This is our introduction to one of the two main styles of tracks that appear on the album. “II” brings the attention and focus closer to the listener. The first five notes of a minor scale are repeated over again with a faint echo following. Played on a hammered dulcimer, the sound is piercing and metallic even in its lower register. This brittle and cold sound represents the second style of track that appears on Nattesne. The two styles switch off of the entirety of the album. “V” features vocals and vocal arrangements by Siri Ann Flensburg. Just as a familiarity with the two presented textures is gained, the addition of vocals brings an undeniable warmth to the cold and barren landscape. Along with middle to low register piano notes, the vocals coat the landscape providing a new lens for the listener to hear through. “VI” returns to the hammered dulcimer, but is played more freely. Each phrase is speeds up and slows down at the will of the performer. The end of the phrase is given a moment to decay letting the individually attacked notes form a clear sonority. The entirety of the album displays a somber, still, and overall gloomy temper. “XIII” is the first track, however, where a clear weeping motive sticks out in the texture. Also clear from this track is the division between sounds in the swelling texture. Prominent in the bass that comes near the end of the phrase are two notes that descend, or weep, with authority. “XIV” is chaotic. Seemingly random attacks create a swelling cloud of hammered dulcimer notes. As the 3-minute 30-second track unfolds, one’s brain begins to make sense of sections of this cloud putting together melodies and rhythms. It is an organized chaos that feels like an attempt at bridging the two different styles presented on Nattesne. The spirit of collage feels alive on this project. Hard lines or cuts are created between each track as there is clear separation in timbre and style. Shrill and cloudy harmonies swell for half of the project while a hammered dulcimer provides some sense of meter on the other half. It is a cold and forsaken, but never void of emotion. 
Originally Posted on June 16, 2018
In 2002, French musician, Boris Billier started the first major shift in his career. A sound technician for cinema since 1998, Billier left this industry to focusing on soundfield based composition. For the next 10 years, he travelled choosing live publication of his music rather than recorded. He cites having traveled “with his own auditoriums” as he played his compositions for small audiences anywhere except for concert venues. 2012 marked the next transition for Billier, this one towards making music using what he calls “more usual tools” with a specific interest in the piano. Many of Billier’s collaborations up to this point were with contemporary theater groups. These collaborations continued all throughout Europe, but Billier began releasing music online under the pseudonym of Aries Mond. Come On Let’s Wait is Aries Mond’s the debut album released on Eilean Records. Come On Let’s Wait defines location #18 on the label’s imaginary island. Location #18 sits in isolation off the northwestern shores. This secluded point is defined by Aries Mond’s use of one of his favorite “more usual tools,” the piano, the sounds of which dominate the frequencies of this album. Set in the winter time to a white and grey backdrop, the album unfolds slowly and deliberately. It is hard for me to see the location of this album on the map and not hear the album unfolding like a tide. The first six tracks seem to build in to a brilliant shimmer which is the seventh track, “So Long.” The album opens with “Come.” There is an exploratory element to this track. The sound of the piano is introduced and found along with the distant and glitchy atmosphere created in the periphery. The second track, “Again,” reminds us that we are not alone. If the piano was the main character introduced first, the subtle noises and breaths made by a female mouth and a male hum are the supporting characters for the rest of the album. The use of space and silence within these tracks and throughout the album creates the push and pull of the tides. There is a nonlinear but noticeable build in texture, pulse, and sometimes (but rarely) volume leading into “So Long,” which is what I hear as the high tide of the album. A jovial voice overtakes the piano which gleams brightly before exhaling into “Once Again,” the album’s closing number. A steady pulse remains mirroring the consistency of the tides, but distance and space return. The piano retreats until it is nothing more than an echo in the final moments of the album. Even though the medium through which Billier chooses to perform his music has changed since 2002, the spirit in which he wishes his music to be heard is still very much alive in Come On Let’s Wait. This album is an intimate experience. You are subjected to the sounds of whispers and breathing that are so close an element of claustrophobia could very well set in. The listener is pulled in extremely close to the piano; every element of the mechanical structure of the piano becomes an instrument and a color of the landscape. There is solitude ingrained in this album that forces you to bask in the loneliness of location #18, far from the crowds of familiar concert spaces on the mainland, just as Boris Billier wishes.
0 Comments
Since 2005, Stephen Wilkinson has been releasing music on both Mush Records and Warp Records as Bibio. The name, stemming from a small fishing fly his father would use during his childhood, is a representation of the warm sense of home and foundation his music exudes. Many of his releases are full of folk-oriented music that grounds the listener in tradition, but the English artist and musician is not one to remain stationary. With each of his 10 full-length releases, the folk traditions migrate through a dizzying maze of electronica and experimentation. There feels to be a desire to reorient one’s self in order to gain new perspective on what appears familiar. There are moments of beauty, awkwardness, grit, sadness, and everything in between throughout his catalog. There are no safety nets used for Bibio–whatever story is meant to be told and needs to be told will always be displayed in an unmistakably organic manner.
Bibio’s latest release from April of 2019 is a pleasant return to the sound that put this purveyor of folk and easy-listening hip-hop on many people’s radars. The foundation of the album is the acoustic exploration of influences from the 1960s and 1970s. Ranging from soul to ambient influences, Bibio takes folk styles from the British islands and the United States and colors them with mandolins, fiddles, guitars, and a fair number of field recordings to create an unbelievably warm sonic world.
Opening with “Beret Girl,” a beautifully stripped down melody played on guitar hovers above the warmth of a tape hiss and the occasional chipping of a bird before slowly fading to nothing. It is a subtle announcement leading the listener out of Wilkinson's previous ambient project, Phantom Brickworks, into an equally complex texture, but melody driven story. “The Art of Living” continues the warm pastoral scene complete with samples of a cow. We then land on “Before.” Laid back with a gravely twang throughout all layers, the focus seems to narrow during this third track. We’ve left the reverb-soaked vastness of nature and settled into a 1970s soul-funk groove. The lead single from the album, “Curls,” returns to nature with the sounds of birds add and brightness to the the folk melodies coming from banjo, fiddle, and vocals painting a blue picture of a relationship reaching a breaking point. Ribbions travels through a simultaneously joyful and haunting landscape. “Erdaydidder-Erdiddar” pulses with the ominous sound of footsteps marching forward before a sudden shift in color leaves the listener wondering the true origin of this seemingly endless stream of footsteps. Are these from a military-like march or do they come from the gleeful steps of dance to these folk melodies? It is a hazy meaning that matches the foggy lo-fi sound of the track and album as a whole. A return to upbeat jazz-fusion is found in “Old Graffiti.” It is a final breath of vivacious life before the end of the album and plays like a vibrant jam session. From this point on, Bibio slowly lets us down with down tempo and guitar-based tunes in “Patchouli May,” “Valley Wolf,” and “Quarters.” As a closing number, “Under a Lone Ash” leaves a stamp of optimism on the audience. A familiar feeling melody is played but on a bright guitar sound that has found a chance to peek out of blanket of lo-fi before it is too late. Bibio finds a way still to push forward even within the context of his most nostalgic and folk-based works to date. 
Bibio’s ninth studio release from 2017 is perhaps the furthest he has departed from the nostalgic soul and folk electronica that his audience has grown to love. His long term listeners have also come to embrace Wilkinson’s relentless effort to explore musical styles. With Phantom Brickworks, Wilkinson immerses himself into ambient music creating a well rounded album that plays as a welcome and refreshing escape from his fingerpicking and indie pop foundation.
The concept for the album, as described by Wilkinson, is based on the idea that “places can be haunted by meaning…human beings are highly sensitive to the atmospheres of places, which can be enhanced or dramatically altered when you learn about the context of their history.” The long sustaining composition style leads the ear to hear the album as an atmosphere/location as much as it hears is as much music. “9:13” opens the album with a dampened melody that fades in slowly and floats effortlessly through then duration of the track. “Phantom Brickworks” introduces the piano as a main character. Delayed attacks give the hint of a waltz a few minutes into the title track of the album. With metallic timbres accompanying the piano, a darker mud fills in the lower frequencies as the meter pulses unravels. A haze then moves into view along with tape hiss and the distant sound of voices. The feeling of phantom souls is hard to escape as the track fades ever so slowly. “Pantglas” is a shift towards a more demonic and distorted lens. Such as is heard in many tracks, there is an ambiguity with the timbres present. The listener can only really grapple with issues pitch and volume as the source of each noise is filtered and altered to an unrecognizable level. The hum that ensues is chilling. It is the shortest number on an album where slow and deliberate technique is highlighted, but “Ivy Charcoal” stands out as my favorite track of this project. The choral-like organ that gradually builds in its number of voices is accompanied by a field recording that is brilliantly processed once again to a point of ambiguity. At times sounding like water, wind, or even crackling flames, the repetition of harmonies becomes a background to the mysterious symphony of nature that fully consumes the track come its conclusion. Ambient music always brings with it a certain meditative quality–it is slow music that music be approached with a similar pace in order to be fully appreciated. In an interview with Clash, Wilkinson comments, “I listen to it myself – usually at night, when everything has quietened down I like to put my headphones on and listen to it. That’s important to me, to put my headphones on and listen to it for a long time.” There is a process and ritual to listening that mirrors the deliberate processes taken to create the music. Phantom Brickworks stands apart from his other releases not for its exploration of ambient music and departure from the artist’s familiar voice, but for its mastery of technique and ability to evoke powerful imagery and sense of calm. 
To this day, Ambivalence Avenue remains Wilkinson’s most critically acclaimed release and is perhaps the Rosetta Stone of the “Bibio Sound.” At the time of this 2009 release, people began to wonder if Bibio was, as Pitchfork put it, “a pleasant one-trick pony.” Ambivalence Avenue is Bibio’s debut on Warp Records and an announcement to the world of the talent Wilkinson has in producing, singing, songwriting, and arranging. The wide range of influences present are all masterfully pumped through warm tape effects and mixed to enhance the complex textures of this album.
The use of effects blurs lines throughout the album. It is diverse in style, but effects take away from any immediate indication of the pop, rock, folk, and hip-hop inspirations existing in the sound. “Ambivalence Avenue” is joyfully played with the folky melody in three, but compressed and side-chained through a gritty lo-fi filter. “Fire Ant” pays respects to one of Wilkinson’s biggest self-proclaimed influences, J Dilla. The chopped vocals over a drunkenly swung drum pattern is a stark contrast from much of the rest of the album, but is a window into Bibio as a music fan and appreciator. “Sugarette” is a continuation of the hip-hop influence and a flex of Wilkinson’s production chops. A flurry of processed vocals and wet synth arps and stabs creates a dizzying soundscape. “Lovers’ Cravings” is perhaps one of Bibio’s most recognizable hits. It plays out in two distinct chapters the first being a pleasant display of guitar fingerpicking. Multiple layers of bright guitar lines meander to a satisfying conclusion leading into an upbeat and danceable second chapter. In front of a soft cowbell a syncopated line is looped on guitar gradually adding layers including vocals lines that speak of memory and gleam an equal brightness to the instrumental accompaniment. Many of the songs have an interesting format of trailing off into a more ambient closing passage, almost as if the thought was never completed. “S’Vive” follows this pattern after track full of distorted back and processed vocals. It feels like a strategy to slow down these driving electronic track in an effort to continue the seamless exploration of influences throughout the album. The next song, “The Palm of Your Wave,” is a chilling folk song. To hard cut immediately into this song would be shocking. These ambient interludes mend the gaps between styles throughout the project. This fourth studio release is a brave and ambitious experiment. Without the correct track order and pacing, the number of styles and genres that are touched throughout the album could easily become disorienting and unconvincing. We hear Bibio venture outside of the personality of his first three studio albums while remaining true to his fascination in nature and the art of recording. 
Tucked in the northeastern outskirts of Cincinnati sits Loveland, Ohio, the home of the fast growing funk and soul label, Colemine Records. Started by Louis Rideout and Terry Cole during their graduate school days in 2007, the label really began to hit its stride in 2014 as the two founders took on the label as their full time careers. This small label, run out Plaid Room Records in downtown Loveland, is built on a passion for this music and nothing else. Both the record store and label continue to grow and compliment each other.
This seven-piece ensemble hails from Seattle and for the last seven (or so) years have been putting out some of the most soulful and sophisticated music of this decade. Their sophomore album, The Dip Delivers, shows their commitment to celebrating as well as continuing the tradition of soul music that was forged in the mid-20th century. There are no frills when it comes to the band’s make up or recording style, just pure musicianship and passion poured into each track.
The album opens with soaring vocals from front man, Tom Eddy. The old school vocal flare cuts through each track on the album with the help of the analog grit as the album was recorded directly to tape by Eddy and lead guitarist, Jacob Lundgren. These two along with Brennan Carter on trumpet, Levi Gillis on tenor sax, Evan Smith on baritone sax, Jarraed Katz on drums, and Mark Hunter on bass met at the University of Washington in the jazz program. The dedication to the preservation and subsequent reinvention of this timeless sound was the foundation of this project that has grown into the sound we hear today. The album winds through heavy swing, funk, doo-wop, R&B, and other classic sounds creating an album that fits the ear of any who give it the time. “Advertising” brings a strong presence through organ and guitar riffs that take up the foreground. This is a departure from the usual horn-heavy sound that comes from the “Honeynut Horns.” We cool down next with “Adeline.” The smooth vocal harmonies call back to the golden age of doo-wop in the 1950’s. The seemingly simple form of the song is finessed by Eddy and his ability to stretch time while molding his melodies and exploring the pocket laid down by Katz and Hunter in the rhythm sections. “Atlas,” “Slow Sipper,” and “Spiderweb” are The Dip in all their glory. These mid-tempo hits dig deep into the the mellow and ragged groove of this album. Each selection has the opportunity to explore some level of space, grit, and soul. “Starcastle,” feels like a return home. Since first their self-titled freshman album, the backbone of the band has been infectious horn backgrounds and the ability to shift time on a dime. Opening with a swing horn melody, the guitar then takes the reins while the groove transforms into funk with horn stabs placed perfectly behind the beat. The Dip is refreshing. They have embraced the organic sound of their instruments and bring a level of precision and musicianship to them that creates an individual sound necessary for the emotion felt in this new take on an old school sound. The careful study of the soul tradition of yesterday has allowed The Dip to reach a new audience and new generation of soul fans today. 
In the foot-hills of Bloomington, Indiana sits the University of Indiana and one of the most renowned university music programs in the world at the Jacobs School of Music. Durand Jones relocated to this thriving mid-western college town in 2012. Arriving with his alto saxophone, he was unaware that in four years he would be the lead singer of one of the deepest soul bands on the scene today. Fast forward to 2019 and fresh off the release of their debut full-length project, Durand Jones & The Indications are in the middle of a world tour across the US and Europe.
What was meant to be a one-and-done recording project steadily grew gaining traction through the power of word of mouth and with the help of independently owned record stores. It is an appropriate organic growth for this band root in such a warm organic sound. As their bio states, “Durand Jones & the Indications aren’t looking backwards.” The spirit of ‘70s soul is clearly there, but these like-minded-twenty-somethings have their feet planted firmly in the present with pop and hip hop influences shining through their conspicuously crafted sound. The five-piece band is rounded out with drummer Aaron Frazer, guitarist Blake Rhein, bassist Kyle Houpt, and organist Justin Hubler. Having all studied audio engineering at Indiana, the band was able to really focus their attention on how to create a sound that pushes soul music forward. “Morning in America” opens the album and sets the tone with messages spanning from the opioid crisis to inequity in Detroit. It is a dark opening for an album brimming with sweetly soaked timbres. “Don’t You Know,” the project’s lead single, packs a heavy vocal punch. Compared to their debut EP, the group veered towards a more vocal-based sound for this latest project. Falsettos and rich four-part harmonies are packed into very corner. Tracks like “How Can I Be Sure” and “Sea Gets Hotter” provide further evidence of the vocal prowess Jones and the band bring to this album. Elevated melodies are the centerpiece of these tunes, however a piano breakdown in “How Can I Be Sure” is a dramatic flare whose power is felt strongly in the track. As the band makes their way across the country this spring and summer it is inevitable that they will leave a memorable impression. Their dedication to their sound and the craft of songwriting can be felt on this most recent record. It is a collection of sounds that invites their audiences to unite in a shared sense of positivity towards the present. It is an invitation to push forward in a time where getting lost in wishing for a romanticized version of the past is easy to do. 
I am a sucker for the organ.
The Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio was formed in 2015 and has been blending soul, jazz, R&B, and rock seamlessly ever since. The group is based in Seattle and just celebrate the one-year anniversary of their debut LP released in March of 2018, Close But No Cigar. The group featuring Jimmy James on guitar, David McGraw on drums, and Lamarr on the B-3. Like almost all of Colemine’s roster, The Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio has done their research giving the legends of this music the necessary level of study for their own performances to be both a history lesson and fresh interpretation of the genre’s tradition. There is a clear versatility to the group. Both bebop and more gospel-based tunes hit hard throughout the album. On the gospel side of the sound, the influence of Booker T Jones and The Reverend Al Green are explicitly celebrated on the tracks “Little Booker T” and “Al Greenery.” While study and imitation play a large role in this album and this trio’s sound, their versatility extends to tracks such as “Between the Mayo and Mustard.” This is one of many moments on this project where the individuality of this group is highlighted. This vamp-based jam is rich with percussive licks from all members while Lamarr explores the pluckier high end of his instrument. “Raymond Brings the Greens” trudges forward with a dirty solo from James cementing the clear chemistry between the trio. Lamarr lays a solid and lush foundation for the guitarist to dance over while McGraw never ceases to leave the pocket. In my opinion, the organ is an instrument that brings life to music unlike any instrument–it quite literally breathes. What is so special about the organ is how its addition to any musical setting instantly transforms a piece into a piece about timbre. The organ has such a vast possibility of sounds that an organ trio becomes a ballet between the overtones and timbres of the instruments involved. It is a beautifully colorful sound that is easy to get engrossed in. Close But No Cigar is a masterful exploration of this classic trio format. While they don’t reinvent the wheel, Lamarr and his trio do drive this vehicle with an undeniable swagger. 
In 2007, Robert Raths founded Erased Tapes Records on a platform focused on releasing avant-garde and experimental electronic music. Originally based out of London, the label has expanded and now has additional offices in Los Angeles and Berlin.
You look on stage to see a piano, bass, and drums and one might immediately expect the classic sound of your traditional jazz piano trio. When Dawn of Midi takes the stage this instrumentation is flipped on its head completely shattering expectations and pushing the definition of jazz. The trio pushes the sound so far that the freedom and fluidity typically associated with jazz music is completely restricted with robotic precision and incredible sequencing of varying rhythmic permutations flowing through the three musicians.
Dysnomia is the group’s second album and garnered great praise after it’s release in 2015. It's just under four-years later and every play through this album feels fresh and gripping. In order to fully appreciate the meticulous planning and composition that went into this project you need to carve out 46-minutes devoted to following the complex and hypnotizing journey through the entirety of this album. The album has such a distinct pulse throughout, yet it is almost impossible to ever know where the downbeat of each measure passes. The looping in each instrument often subtlety shifts dramatically changing the pulse and underlying time feel. Opening with “Io,” the bass creeps into the picture followed closely by the piano’s muted strings. While only a trio, the group finds ways to push the limits of their sound. Throughout the entirety of the project each instrument it can be heard as a drum. For the bass and piano to be used melodically is a rarity. “Io” morphs into a complex rhythmic cocktail that gives a feeling of heavy swing near its completion by shifting accents among the given loops. While each track is a cohesive and complete thought, the album plays as one long seamless journey. It is an international journey–while based in Brooklyn currently, the trio with members whose origins are Pakistan (Qasim Naqvi, drums), India (Aakaash Israni, Bass), Morocco (Amino Belyamani, piano). The heavy utilization of polyrhythmic ideas feels as though it potentially stems from this cultural make up. From “Io” the band maneuvers through four more tracks before “Ymir.” The beginning of this, the sixth track on the project, is the end of a first act. The band has gradually made their way to one of the more simple rhythms and certainly some of the most thin sounds thus far. The first 20-seconds of “Ymir are a deep breath in before a a new theme emerges introduced with ringing piano harmonics and an arpeggiated bass line. The theme of the high harmonic seems to carry through until we are met with a familiar deep, low, and wide piano attack that calls back to the opening moments of the album. Dysnomia is unlike anything I have ever heard. The band is currently on a hiatus as the trio all pursue individual projects. The hiatus is on the heels of a 4-year span touring with this album and, from what I have read, the album can only hope to mimic what the live experience with Dawn of Midi is like. 
I first encountered this album right after its re-release on Erased Tapes back in the winter of 2017, but took it for a brand new release. It wasn’t until I dug deeper into the history of the ensemble that I learned of their leader, Simon Jeffes and co-founder Helen Liebmann and this orchestra that toured and recorded extensively between 1972 and 1997. I was all the more intrigued as their sound, even in 2017, seemed fresh and beautiful in a uniquely simple form.
The concept for PCO came to Jeffes in a hallucination caused by food poisoning in France in 1972. A poem came from this hallucination with a message of embracing the quality of randomness in our lives. He translated this message as one of acceptance, and carried this message as the driving force of PCO. Jeffes, a classically trained guitarist, composer, and arranger, saw similarities in the limitations that came with the classical music and rock genre tags but admired the freedom within the folk music idiom. Embracing a message of randomness and acceptance, the sound of PCO is often hard to label. Within their albums, certainly within Union Café, a laundry list of influences, cultures, and genres are explored. Most often this exploration is heard within the context of a minimalist and folk aesthetic. Union Café was the avant-pop band’s final of five full-length studio releases before Jeffes death in 1997. “Scherzo And Trio” opens the album sounding like a boogie-woogie tune with an added layer of grit. Harmonically this open slides in and out of dissonance without loosing its “chug-a-chug-a” push. “Nothing Really Blue” is one of the more tantalizing tunes on the album. Opening with pizzicato strings and piano, a soft vamp begins to grow. A melody is sounded from the piano finding a way to sound like a blues riff, pop song, and spiritual all melded into a single phrase. The soft energy manages to keep your attention for all five-minutes of the tune hinting at a crescendo at times, but remaining comfortably in a somewhat reserved pocket. In “Organum” the presence of folk roots is strong with a clear influence of irish jig tradition. There is a nostalgic tint to the track that I attribute to the sort of neo-renaissance-sounding accompaniment to the melody. It is a polished take on an old-fashioned sound heightening the sense of timelessness that seems to come with every release from PCO. The spirit of this phenomenal band is carried on with Arthur Jeffes, the son of the late PCO founder. Arthur was the catalyst behind the rerelease of Union Café viewing this final release as PCO’s “least exposed” album due to, perhaps, poor timing. At the time it’s original release it was only availbe on CD–the digital marketplace for music was not in-place and the vinyl renaissance was still some years from kicking in. Erased Tapes helped to spark a renewed love of this important collection of musicians from the latter half of the 20th-century. With help of Arthur Jeffes, the polished, eclectic, and unassuming genius of Penguin Café Orchestra remains strong today. 
Originally published in On Queue December Pt. 1, 2018
It is closing in on its 1-year anniversary, but the rich combination of organic and electronic that takes the reigns of Nils Frahm’s first major release since 2015 continues to fascinate my ear with the incredible proficiency in both production and minimalist composition that Frahm brings to the table. The quality of recorded sound is the driving interest for Nils Frahm and has been since his very early introduction to music. His father was a photographer designing record covers while Frahm was immersing himself in the music of classical and contemporary composers. This duality that tugged on him for his early development as a musician shaped his unconventional approach to the piano sound which features an eccentric combination of classical and electronic music. After his 2015 release, Solo, Frahm embarked on a mission to create a studio room from his dreams. The location was in the Funkhaus, a well known 1950s-era recording complex that sat in East Berlin. For two years he outfitted this with the gear that was most important to his sound–an arsenal of pianos, synthesizers, strings, percussion, and even down to a custom bult mixing desk. Funkhaus became a place where Frahm’s interest with the quality of sound could blossom through the various natural reverb chambers and vintage gear available to him. The result was All Melody. While it sits in one’s ear with a somber tone, there is never an overwhelming sadness felt. The rhythmic energy in synths and voices heard from one track to the next keeps the energy moving forward. Despite the seemingly disparate timbres for the main voices in the project, All Melody is a structurally sound and cohesive body of work. The most killer track to my ear is “A Place.” For me, this represents the most effective and musical use of delay I have ever heard and I have a hard time believing it will be dethroned anytime soon. When played through a pair of nice monitors or headphones, the incredible sonic architecture is put into full perspective. The pulse of the track is an articulate synth chord that is panned right of center. As this chord progression continues the layers of delay grow to populate the rest of the sonic field in a rhythmic and meticulously charted manner. Vocal textures join the rounded tone of the synth as well as a harmonized and syncopated flute melody. “My Friend the Forrest” recalls back to the impressive catalogue of solo piano works Frahm has released in his career. The piano, muted and surrounded by a subtle but expansive blanket of reverb, speaks with the voice of both the stings and the hammers and levers. It is a texture that gives a new and warm life to the piano. Melodically, this track is oozing with soul and a bluesy riff that repeats throughout the song. The beauty of this album is in the fine details. Frahm knows how to used recording technology and the mechanics of his instruments to his advantage making somewhat simple musical ideas come to life with intense emotion and detail. Unrelenting exploration of space and texture have lead to this beautifully ambitious release that has aged well this year. 
Stones Throw Records was started in 1996 by Chris Manak (known to many as Peanut Butter Wolf) in honor of his late friend and collaborator, Charizma. It was the peak of the turntablism era when founded and since then Stones Throw has stayed true to their roots in hip hop and strong vinyl releases, however the label has grown to have one of the most talented and eclectic rosters of any label today. While some non-hip hop releases started to pop up in 1999, the breadth of the label began to grow quickly after the death of legendary producer and Stones Throw signee, J Dilla. Manak credits Dilla for introducing him to some of the new directions and genres that have began to get signed to the label.
The label is continuing to grow and introducing the world to some of the most unique and innovative acts today. From its humble beginnings, Stones Throw has become of one of the most important and respected labels in the industry. 
The album opens with oscillating string chords immediately hypnotizing the listener. We are effortlessly pulled in by the spell of this Brooklyn native.
Garzón-Montano was raised in a family with French-Colombian heritage and with strong musical roots. His mother a member of Philip Glass’ ensemble, he was encouraged from an early age to find his instrumental voice. Starting with violin, Garzón-Montano grew to learn drums, guitar, keyboards, and an array of other instruments while studying at Laguardia High School for the performing arts. Jardín is packed with colorful arrangements that are as diverse in their sonic make up as the cultural and artistic makeup of Garzón-Montano’s upbringing. The delicate and lush opening statement of “Trial” leads into the lead single of the album, “Sour Mango.” The combination of lyrical and harmonic complexity creates intriguing timbres that propel, not only this track, but the entire album forward. Thick and blocky vocal harmonies meander effortlessly throughout the album. “Long Ears” features background vocal runs that flow in front of the busy and percussive groove ending in an expressive outro with a choir of vocal layers coming from Garzón-Montano. “Crawl” and “My Balloon” feature two of my favorite bass grooves on the album. Both syncopated groves support stylistically disparate tracks– “Crawl” a danceable and more traditional neo-soul song and “My Balloon” a sonically explorative experience grounded in a hip hop driven feel. It is rare when such a wide range of influences and experimentation can come together so cleanly to create a cohesive final product. The common thread is the distinctive vocals and vocal mixing that sweetens these tracks that carry a deeper meaning often relating to the topic of isolation. In an interview with HNHH in 2017, Garzón-Montano says, “I wanted to make music that would remind people how beautiful life is – how delicate their hearts are. A Garden is full of life, and growth, and beauty. I named the album Jardín hoping for it to create a space for healing when people put it on. I’ve always wanted to make music that is healing, comforting, and funky.” Just as if you were to look at a vibrant flower bed, the variety of color and presence of fragile, but beautiful life shines through. 
The legend of Quasimoto began in the year 2000 with the release of The Unseen. The mind behind this now legendary series of albums is none other than producing legend and Stones Throw stalwart, Madlib.
It is said that the producer decided to rap over some of his own beats one day, but was not satisfied with the sound of his voice. He took his beats, slowed them down, rapped slowly, and then sped them back up to speed producing the distinctive high pitched voice of this notorious alter ego often referred to as “Lord Quas.” The album title for the debut release in 2000 was a reference to the fact that the MC was meant to be invisible. Soon, however, an animated character drawn by Madlib and Jeff Jank became the infamous face of this character. Over a span of 13-years, three Quasimoto albums were released with the latest release, Yessir, Whatever, coming in 2013. The album serves as a compilation of songs that were released on rare and out-of-print vinyl and produced throughout roughly a 12-year-period. The character of Lord Quas is a menacing one meant to represent a bombastic and larger-than-life gangster. Violence and drugs are frequent topics in Lord Quas’ verses even though their references are sometimes thought to be a parody. A characteristic element of all Quasimoto releases is the back-and-forth between the high pitched voice of Quas and Madlib’s true voice. On “Broad Factor,” the opening track of Yessir, Whatever, we hear this interchange with Quas on the verses and Madlib on the hook. Originally released in 2004, this track is a cover of “Nod Factor” by Mad Skillz but sexualized in only the way Lord Quas could get away with. Biz Markie’s “Pickin’ Boogers” and Showbiz & AG’s “Fat Pockets” were also graced with this Lord Quas treatment on earlier releases. The psychedelic and magic mushroom infused journey through the mind of Quasimoto with tracks like “The Front,” where Madlib calls out those who look for shortcuts and try to weasel their way into his circle for personal gain. He’s been paying his dues and mastering his craft for years only to be met with snakes in the game. “Planned Attack” gained the most traction on the album as the lead single. Lord Quas lays down the facts on how he and Madlib are the hottest duo on the scene putting other MC’s careers in danger. The track serves almost as a “who’s who” through many different era’s of hip hop with samples from names such as Busta Rhymes, Jeru the Damaja, Bran Nubian, and Big Daddy Kane. The legend of the elusive Lord Quas remains intact to this day as fans and followers of the underground hip-hop scene wait patience for the MC's next coveted appearance. 
[Originally published in On Queue October Pt. 1]
If you are ever given the opportunity to see a Peanut Butter Wolf live DJ set, don’t hesitate and immediately get tickets. There are few people who have the ability to turn DJing, often viewed as a passive action with little skill other than buttons needed, into an eclectic display of music history and musicality. Once I saw Peanut Butter Wolf live, I went home and drove into any recorded set I could possibly find. I stumbled across one done for Bandcamp Weekly earlier this year. The set featured many new and old gems signed to Stones Throw Records including a single from a then upcoming release by Jerry Paper. October 12th was a long awaited release day for me and Like a Baby did not disappoint. Born Lucas Nathan, Jerry Paper is based in LA and draws on his experience moving from New York city to the West Coast while exploring themes of “the endless human cycle of desire and satisfaction.” The laid back and low volume album bristling with wavy synthesizers and reverb soaked vocals is co-produced by Matty Tavares, a member of BADBADNOTGOOD. Those familiar with the jazz fusion and free improvisational style of this band and Tavares voice on keys and synths will feel right at home. There is an undeniable dreamy timbre through the entire album. It is a pleasant blend of psychedelic rock meeting wistful synth textures of electronic music. For lovers of lo-fi, there is more than enough to enjoy. The album begins as though it is powering on. “Your Cocoon” (the single featured in Peanut Butter Wolf’s set) climbs up to speed into a wash of funky drums and plucky guitar accompaniments. “A Moment” has an undeniable bossa nova flavor to it made clear through the driving brushes on drums and the silky background vocals. “My God,” another single from the project, is a melancholy meditation on the true importance of financial worth. Many of the narratives sung through the album are sometimes hard to decipher due to the unique and thick processing done to Jerry Paper’s deep vocals. This does nothing to take away from the album and adds a mystique that compliments the sound. I feel like there is a definite embrace of what may be seen as “cheesy.” It is a quirky sound, but it is so refined and self-aware that it sets itself apart in its own category. The album is as pleasing to listen to as it is filled with deep commentary on the reality of our surroundings allowing the listener to sit back and relax or interact in a more thought provoking manner. It is a soft-rock masterpiece that has been well worth the wait. 
Ghostly International is an Ann Arbor-founded and now Brooklyn-based independent record label that has released some of the most widely recognized experimental-pop and techno music in the last 20 years. It is also the home to a wide range of visual artist, designers, and technologists. The label was started in the late 1990s on a backbone of love for Detroit techno and the Detroit underground music scene by Sam Valenti IV and Matthew Dear. The open-ended aesthetic of the label has allowed an impressive roster to grow along with a loyal fan base.
Shigeto is, without a shred of doubt, one of the most important musical idols/inspirations in my life. From a musical and production standpoint his sound is intricate and enticing, but his pull from my perspective comes more from his overall career and how he has structured his “business.” I see all of his endeavors as serving a larger goal of giving back to the communities that have fostered his development. These endeavors have mainly revolved around the Detroit and Ann Arbor, MI scenes and, being a fellow Ann Arbor native, I feel incredibly fortunate to have benefitted from many of his projects.
Most recently, the Portage Garage Sounds label (founded by Zach Saginaw aka Shigeto, and his brother Ben Saginaw aka Kenjiro) residency on Thursday in Ann Arbor has been a must-go for my friends and me. A chance to unwind, sit with friends, dance, or observe some incredible DJing chops, it is a perfect example of how seriously Shigeto takes cultivating and curating a thriving scene for a community close to him to enjoy. No Better Time Than Now was my introduction to the work of this producer, drummer, and DJ despite it being his third full-length release. The myriad of influences fly by in a dizzying wave as this album progresses. It disorienting in the most positive sense of the word and all stems from his unbelievable grasp of rhythm and time. “First Saturn Ring” acts almost as a powering on sequence, a feeling made stronger by the slowly intensifying synth arpeggios and soulful chord changes. After booting up, “Detroit Part 1” sets a pace of driving sounds and beats that are carried through the rest of the album. A new world and new structure is built with each track often with light and subtle touches of beauty. This process is no more present than it is in “Miss U” and “Safe In Here.” The most beautiful track to my ear is “Silver Lining.” A grove is slowly built behind textured piano and kalimba samples. The rich, tape soaked sound hugs the listener bringing to life the portrayal of a silver lining shining through. The variety within Shigeto’s catalogue never fails to amaze me. I can always find my way towards new elements to tune into within his music and there is something to fit every mood. But like I said, if there is one thing I take away from Shigeto it is how he has built his career and how he chooses to give back. Thanks, Shigeto, and see you on Thursday. 
I’m a sucker for music that comes from visual artists. The way I almost always hear music and write music is grounded heavily in visual imagery. I think this draws me to artists whose creativity lies in both of these worlds. I found Tycho’s music at a time where my desire to seriously pursue music grew and my awareness of what was sonically inspiring to me was consistently at a heightened state. Awake, the third studio album for Tycho, became influential in the growth of my understanding production methods, sound design, and generally my preferred musical aesthetic.
Scott Hansen is the mind behind Tycho, and ISO50 for his photographic and design pursuits. The most striking aspect of his music will always remain the effortless blend of organic sounds, vintage hardware, and modern aesthetic into a singular and unique voice. It is this well documented post-rock and ambient mixture that feeds into the driving bass and rhythm under colorful and broad colors and textures. There are a few qualities of this album that standout to me as being products of Tycho’s experience with visual art–the awareness and use of texture along with the uncanny sense of space and depth throughout the record. There is never an element out of place or jarring with entrances or exits. Everything has a place and a role in the building of tension or the changing of perspective. “Awake,” the opening and title track for this album, is a perfect demonstration of the masterful build Hansen can conjure in this album. The way the album is mixed, the listener is able to enjoy the intimacy of the drums and guitar attacks while simultaneously gazing in the deep landscape created by beautiful reverb. “Dye” slowly crawls towards euphoria as Hansen and his band reach a climactic arrival in the final minutes of the track. With a strategic thinning of texture before this moment, the arrival of echoing guitar chords carries a surprising amount of emotional weight. I hear the opening of “See” in a similar light and quality as the opening of “Awake.” There is the mesmerizing duality of intimacy and vast open space heard with the opening and echoing guitar notes. The claps that begin the track carry with them a slight grit or crackle that settles in perfectly to the clean and pure mix that follows. It is a moment when the seamless connection between organic sounds and modern aesthetics is clearly exposed for the listener to enjoy. This is one of the first albums where the importance of listening to a project front to back struck me. In a time where music is created to fit a model that is geared towards on demand streaming and short attention spans, the message an artist is trying to convey across an entire project is often lost. Each of the eight tracks on Awake can stand alone as a beautifully crafted song, but there is certainly a macro sense of build and development felt when these track are woven together. It’s beautiful, it’s colorful, and it’s a strikingly emotional release that has the ability to invoke strong imagery while you listen. Close your eyes and enjoy. 
Across all Ghostly International releases, a common trait is an unbelievable attention to the quality of sound. There is so much to learn from the mixing techniques of the roster of Ghostly artists and each of their individual styles. Lusine’s Sensorimotor has emerged, to me, as one of the most compelling releases on this label for its meticulous attention to detail.
Jeff Mcllwain has released many projects for Ghostly since 2003, but this latest release seems to lean in a more meditative direction, almost as if beautifully suspended in time. “Canopy” is the stunning opening track to this album. It begins with a slow fade in of bells and music box chimes creating a shimmering cloud. As if born from this cloud, a pulsing and gritty melody appears. It is an almost five-minute build that leads into my favorite track on the album. “Ticking Hands,” is more rhythmically driven than the opening statement from Sensorimotor, but presents an equally visceral profile. The featured vocalist on this track is Mcllwain’s wife, Sarah. Through the processed vocals and somewhat sporadic melodic plucks of the track, a story of separation appears. The couple wrote the track together “as a king of catharsis of the time we spend apart when I’m touring.” The driving rhythmic pulse continues for the remainder of the album with a few exceptions such as “Chatter” that hark back to the opening thoughts of the album. “Won’t Forget” reintroduces a heavy groove after “Chatter” with masterful vocal chops and a chord progression that leaves a pop-influenced silhouette on this attention grabbing track. “Flyaway” is a thumping and pulsing synth anthem that is paced perfectly, gradually adding layers that compliment an already captivating rhythmic foundation. I discovered Lusine completely by accident and I am forever grateful for this discovery. The Texas-raised and Seattle-based musician can evoke personality and emotion from the warm melodies and arsenal of electronic tools at his disposal. The most compelling elements of his previous releases seem to have converged on this 2017 release finding the perfect balance of experimentation and strong musical reflexes. 
And so begins On Queue 2019! As we start the new year, each post will focus on a specific record label and three releases from the label that I think standout. Let's jump in with Daptone Records.
Daptone Records is a prolific independent funk and soul label based in Brooklyn, New York. It was started in 2001 by Bosco Mann (Gabriel Roth) and Neal Sugarman. The distinctive analog sound that has come to be associated with this label began with its core band, The Dap-Kings. Roth acts as the bass player and bandleader of this group. In 2007 this group, in collaboration with Mark Ronson, provided the instrumental accompaniment for Amy Whinehouse’s undisputed classic, Back to Black. A converted home in the Bushwick neighborhood has been the scene for this distinguished sound to grow, and without any help from computers. The studio acoustics are not enhanced by digital reverbs and everything is recorded and mixed on analog tape by Roth. Having proven themselves time and time again, the Daptone recording studio and personnel have become sought after entities. 
The Menahan Street Band was my introduction to Daptone Records. Back in 2013 during a deep YouTube tangent, I stumbled upon a video of Donald Glover/Childish Gambino at Amobea Records going through what was in his record bag on that day. He pulled the debut album from this Brooklyn-born band. Thank you, Mr. Glover, for opening up this whole new world for me.
There is a chance you have heard The Menahan Street Band without realizing it. The classic soul sound has drawn the attention of some the most active hip-hop artists on the scene right now. The likes of Jay-Z, Kendrick Lamar, 50 Cent, and Kid Cudi have all pulled samples from the band’s two full-length studio albums. The band is comprised of members from the Dap-Kings, El Michels Affair, Antibalas, and The Budos Band–all members of the Daptone family. It is a classic set up of guitar, bass, drums, organ, trumpet, and saxophone playing loop-based grooves in the bedroom of a Brooklyn apartment on Menahan Street. The band is not trying to reinvent the wheel. This is a sound that is battle-tested and has survived all the way to the new vinyl age we are living in right now. The Menahan Street band is a collection of incredibly talented musicians that are playing a familiar sound, but they do it with incredible swagger and prowess. Make The Road By Walking strikes a beautiful balance between powerful backbeats and bass lines, striking melodies, and quirky sense of humor. “Tired of Fighting” begins with drums and congas in a laid back pocket setting the gritty funk tone of this track along with woozy guitar slides that appear throughout much of the album. Dave Guy on trumpet (who you now see playing with The Roots on tour and every night on Jimmy Fallon) and Leon Michels on saxophone provide the buttery harmonized melodies on top of this punchy rhythm section. “Home Again!” is a cheerful soul track with an infectious bounce. The warmth of the changes, instrumentation, and analog tape all combine for this highlight of the album. “Going The Distance” plays in my ear with a slight sense of comedy. It begins with the dark funky feel that is heard through the majority of the album. As the song develops, a triumphant bass line and horn crescendo lead into a sixteenth note based groove that gives off vibes of something like the Rocky movies to my ear. Simplicity is the key with this band and this album. The power of good chord changes and simple patterns that are played with unbelievable feel is put on full display. There are no frills with instrumentation or recording tricks, just good songwriting. After their second LP, the band has gone on to back other vocalists on Daptone Records, but I’m crossing my fingers a new full-length MSB project is in the works. The world needs it. 
One of the vocalist the Menahan Street Band went on to work with was Charles Bradley. The incredible story of this soul journeyman unfortunately came to an end in the fall of 2017 when the singer lost his battle with stomach and liver cancer. Daptone released Black Velvet in November of 2018 as a compilation of the stray tracks that accumulated over the decade the singer spent with the label and with the Menahan Street Band backing him.
It was an incredible case of right time, right place for Bradley who got his big break in his mid-50s. He grew up in a house stricken with poverty and neglect. He worked many odd jobs throughout his life across the entire country, but never left his love of singing. He sang in many small venues under the name “Black Velvet” as a James Brown impersonator. In 2002, Bradley had made his way to New York right as Daptone and their revivalist style were hitting their stride. Bradley introduced himself to co-founder Gabriel Roth and the rest is history. Time and time again on his albums, Bradley effortlessly turns the pains and sadness in his life into powerful and heart-wrenching music. Yet, one of the more memorable moments on this latest release is the voiceless “Black Velvet.” Acting as what feels like a tribute, the tune spans three and a half minutes and searches for words the entire time. A guitar with a heavy level of tremolo meanders through the whole tune, almost like a weeping melodic replacement for the lost member of the group. “(I Hope You Find) The Good Life” is a noticeable departure from the usual pained and weathered tone of the narrative and voice of Bradley. The singer pleads with a lost lover who he needs to let go of spending much of the song simply talking to this person. Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” makes an appearance on the album, but with a new coat of paint. The horn section takes control of this classic tune turning it into a driving soul track. It’s moments like this that are both the beauty and slight downfall of this album. The nature of the compilation album allows us to see the development of his style while signed to Daptone, but also creates a somewhat disjointed mix of tunes. I wish I had the opportunity to see Bradley in concert. Even in interviews and videos you can immediately tell that his true energy and spirit of this music was only on full display in the live setting. This tribute album is a wonderful celebration of a man who never lost sight of the true happiness singing and being on stage brought him. 
In Yorba, the word Akokán translates to “from the heart.” If there has been any thread between the Daptone records I’ve described thus far, I think “from the heart” may perfectly describe it. Then it is without surprise that one of the newest editions to Daptone Records has created a sizable buzz among their listeners, including a Grammy nomination for Orqesta Akokán’s debut LP.
The album’s driving force is its vocalist, Jose “Pepito” Gomez along with the producer, Jacob Plasse and arranger, Mike Eckroth. Unlike most of the other releases on the label, Daptone made a road trip to the band’s home turf in Havana, Cuba and to EGREM recording complex and the Areito Studio to record the album. The spirit of analog recording is certainly preserved at the national record label of Cuba. The studio was founded in 1964 and had a complete monopoly on music production in the country for roughly its first 20-years of operation. The result is the most extensive catalog of Cuban music in the world that is continuing to grow. This is the first time the label has moved beyond the American roots of its traditional sound and homage to history. This new group is an amalgamation of Cuban musicians, many of who have lived through the period of Cuban music the album aims to emulate and preserve. The mambo tradition is alive and kicking with a lively percussive punch on this release. A favorite of mine on the album is “La Cosa.” The rhythm section and horns each display their own aptitude while accompanying each other providing rhythmic stabs behind the melodies. When the trumpets step forward the saxophones join the congas and timbales and vice versa. The arrangements by Eckroth are the glue of the entire album and are just plain stunning. Like I mentioned before, much of the band are veteran wind and rhythm players from some the legendary mambo bands of Cuba, but there are a few young players from New York as well. Certainly these players are incredibly well versed in mambo music, but there is always the risk of conflicting sounds and styles due to the geographical and generational differences. The listeners, and for that matter the musicians, have no time to contemplate this as the arrangements come at you with such energy and power that the 40-minutes the album lasts flies by with infectious joy. I know very little about the history and tradition of Cuban music, but that takes nothing away from my experience with this album. I’m ready to dive into the roots of how we got to this album, the stories of the musicians in the orchestra, and the larger history of this music. Taking a risk and moving away from the American tradition for a moment was an extremely successful endeavor for Daptone. It is hard to think of a group and an album that better represents this unique label than Orquesta Akokán. More mixes and more posts guaranteed in 2019!  
It is closing in on its 1-year anniversary, but the rich combination of organic and electronic that takes the reigns of Nils Frahm’s first major release since 2015 continues to fascinate my ear with the incredible proficiency in both production and minimalist composition that Frahm brings to the table.
The quality of recorded sound is the driving interest for Nils Frahm and has been since his very early introduction to music. His father was a photographer designing record covers while Frahm was immersing himself in the music of classical and contemporary composers. This duality that tugged on him for his early development as a musician shaped his unconventional approach to the piano sound which features an eccentric combination of classical and electronic music. After his 2015 release, Solo, Frahm embarked on a mission to create a studio room from his dreams. The location was in the Funkhaus, a well known 1950s-era recording complex that sat in East Berlin. For two years he outfitted this with the gear that was most important to his sound–an arsenal of pianos, synthesizers, strings, percussion, and even down to a custom bult mixing desk. Funkhaus became a place where Frahm’s interest with the quality of sound could blossom through the various natural reverb chambers and vintage gear available to him. The result was All Melody. While it sits in one’s ear with a somber tone, there is never an overwhelming sadness felt. The rhythmic energy in synths and voices heard from one track to the next keeps the energy moving forward. Despite the seemingly disparate timbres for the main voices in the project, All Melody is a structurally sound and cohesive body of work. The most killer track to my ear is “A Place.” For me, this represents the most effective and musical use of delay I have ever heard and I have a hard time believing it will be dethroned anytime soon. When played through a pair of nice monitors or headphones, the incredible sonic architecture is put into full perspective. The pulse of the track is an articulate synth chord that is panned right of center. As this chord progression continues the layers of delay grow to populate the rest of the sonic field in a rhythmic and meticulously charted manner. Vocal textures join the rounded tone of the synth as well as a harmonized and syncopated flute melody. “My Friend the Forrest” recalls back to the impressive catalogue of solo piano works Frahm has released in his career. The piano, muted and surrounded by a subtle but expansive blanket of reverb, speaks with the voice of both the stings and the hammers and levers. It is a texture that gives a new and warm life to the piano. Melodically, this track is oozing with soul and a bluesy riff that repeats throughout the song. The beauty of this album is in the fine details. Frahm knows how to used recording technology and the mechanics of his instruments to his advantage making somewhat simple musical ideas come to life with intense emotion and detail. Unrelenting exploration of space and texture have lead to this beautifully ambitious release that has aged well this year. 
Number eight. I remember being hipped to Vulfpeck in Sweetwaters Café in 2012 and since then time has flown by. It has been an extremely sonically rewarding experience to follow this band that has done so much for the community that I grew up in. They really have inspired a community and brought a new energy to the concept of the modern funk band. With their eighth studio release I feel a bit of nostalgic energy back towards the early days of the band with the four core members, especially Theo Katzman, having a more pronounced presence compared to some of their more recent releases.
The first four songs feature the vocal talents of Theo Katzman and cover the bases in terms of your “pop anthem subgenres:” we open with a quasi gospel rock feel in “Half of the Way,” an almost disco joint with “Darwin Derby,” a singer-songwriter vibe with “Lonely Town,” and a ballad with “Love is a Beautiful Thing.” This fourth track was originally featured on Katzman’s latest solo project, Heartbreak Hits. The structure of Vulfpeck seems too simple to be so out of the ordinary. The band notably splits royalties evenly among all parties on original tunes and then has a more traditional payment structure for covers. Covers have become a staple of the ongoing Vulf project in both the album and live show setting. The band has often covered many songs on solo projects of Katzman and frequent collaborator, Joey Dosik. There is an effortless sense of community that comes from this practice that is infectious when listening through headphones or live. The familiarity the musicians have with each other carries over into the audience filling the room with positive and comedic energy. Watching the progression of the band has meant seeing this energy skyrocket to an all-time high with this latest release. The second half of the album feels like a window back into the early catalogue of Vulf. Basic band setups with drums, keys, and bass dominate this second half with whimsical melodies over heavy bass lines throughout. “Soft Parade” has a polyrhythmic, three-against-four feel in the bass that gives it some nastiness as I envision a carousel go ‘round and ‘round. “Lost My Treble Long Ago” is the Joe Dart feature of the eighth studio release. Speed, agility, and precision–Dart is at his finniest on this heavy funk tune. “Disco Ulysses (Instrumental)” is perhaps a sneak peak at what is to come in 2019. As we saw with numbers like “My First Car” and “Christmas In LA,” Vulfpeck likes to draw out the life of a tune by releasing the instrumental before the vocal version. Both versions in all the cases of this strategy can stand alone as hits showing the talent level of the musicians associated with Vulf. I’m absolutely a fanboy of this band. Driving way out of my way or planning trips to see this band or its members perform an unnecessary number of times is something I’m guilty of. But it is the energy I was talking about that keeps me coming back. When you are in a room with them or they are in your headphones you have no choice but to smile and nod your head. The music, the personalities, the cult following–Vulfpeck is the real deal and still feel as fresh and new as ever. 
A video that seems to always show up on my Facebook feed and suggested videos on YouTube is one by Vox called “How J Dilla humanized his MPC3000.” It must be my history on the internet that is feeding the algorithms, but I literally see this video 5-10 times a week on my feeds and, I’ll admit, I have a hard time not watching it every time it comes up.
The basic premise of the video is explaining how J Dilla’s main compositional tool, the MPC3000, shaped his sound and a generation of music to follow. One of the collaborators and producers that worked heavily with Dilla during this time was Madlib, the producer behind the cult classic Madvillainy record along with MC, MF Doom. Released in early November of 2018, Madvillain Vol. 1 takes the idea of humanizing this style of production to an extreme level. Abstract Orchestra is a Hip-Hop Big Band from the United Kingdom that is steadily building a loyal and supportive fanbase. The group is led by saxophonist, Rob Mitchell and is dedicated to bringing a new energy to some of the most storied music in hip-hop’s canon. This album comes on the heels of their summer 2017 release, Dilla, exploring the music of the legendary producer in the same manner they do with the music of this infamous duo. The group takes straight-ahead and modern arranging techniques and applies them to the loop-based music of Madvillain. The album begins with “Accordian,” an arrangement of one of the most popular tunes on the original album. It is a bouncy and bright take on a track that originally drags with a slumbering quality. A strong backbeat, swinging sax harmonies, and a muted trumpet solo add a jazz characteristic to the mix. “Raid” has to be my favorite arrangement on the album. The opening sample features “Nardis” as played by the one and only, Bill Evans. After this opening statement, the magic of live ensemble looping kicks in. The ensemble bounces heavily in the pocket and with some incredible rhythmic accuracy. As the track wears on, the beautiful orchestration of the arrangement takes the foreground. The lo-fi feeling that is so present throughout the entirety of the original project is lost with Abstract Orchestra’s interpretation. This is certainly not a negative. More than anything it is a reminder of the importance the technology Madlib used was to his signature sound. The power and precision that the musicians in this group play with deserves to be heard through the high quality and clarity of this mix. As someone who is a sucker for quality big band arrangements, this album was an immediate purchase and addition to my collection. The somewhat sinister quality of the Madvillainy is kept, but with a new twinge of brightness and forward energy. Just as Dilla and Madlib humanized the technology behind their legendary sound, Abstract Orchestra is taking it another step further. Perhaps this step moves the music outside the immediate realm of hip-hop, but the swagger of their original source material is never out of site. 
I feel like I’ve heard Makaya McCraven’s name at least once a week for this entire calendar year, and rightfully so. It has been a busy year for the Chicago based drummer and producer.
Having gone to school in the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts and being somewhat tuned in to the jazz scene there, the name of this extraordinarily original drummer was constantly being brought up. McCraven, while born in France, was raised in the Pioneer Valley where he was quickly noticed and mentored by some of the geniuses that reside in and around the campus of the University of Massachusetts Amherst. The community included the likes of Marion Brown, Archie Shepp, and Yusef Lateef. It feels like a common story these days for jazz musicians and students of his generation and younger to have a love for jazz along with an obsession for hip hop and great MCs and producers. McCraven was no different. Wu-Tang Clan, A Tribe Called Quest, Busta Rhymes, Nas, and Biggie were frequently in McCraven’s ears as he was growing up. Perhaps it is a common listening pallet for those of his generation, but there are few that have been able to harness the characteristics of this genre crossover with such mastery as McCraven has done time and time again. Where We Come From grew from a residency in London during October of 2017 and is a true testament to his musical roots. McCraven was joined on stage at London’s Total Refreshment Centre by Theon Cross (tuba), Joe Armon-Jones (keys), Nubya Garcia (saxophone), Kamaal Williams (keys) and Soweto Kinch (saxophone and voice). Two days of live shows were recorded and brought to be mixed and mastered for another two days in London. On the fifth and final day was “Fresh Roasted.” This event brought together some of London’s most prolific producers for a live beat-making and remixing showcase. The stems from the earlier performances were chopped up on stage and put on the album contributing to its certain mixtape feel. The recordings were originally meant to be bonus material for McCraven’s second 2018 release, Universal Beings. Listening through to the result of this 5-day musical escapade, however, it becomes apparent how cutting any of the material from these London sessions would be nearly impossible. McCraven is known for his jam session style of performing–he and the other musicians improvise the entire show resulting in mostly loop based material. It is a format that places the musicians at a heightened level of awareness that can be felt in any of his projects, and especially this one. The spirit of the live performance is preserved in this record. The energy level is almost overflowing from the first note and the audience voices their admiration for the group. It is an extremely innovative record, sure, but with the musical background McCraven comes from it feels like this project has been living inside him for years. Where We Come From is a brilliant displayed of everything that is crucial to the musical identity of Makaya McCraven. 
It spans only three medium-length tracks, but packs an emotional knockout punch.
Stuart Howard, known as Lapalux to most, was signed to electronic music juggernaut Flying Lotus’ label, Brainfeeder, in 2010 after a simple cold email to the producer and founder. Since then, a steady stream of EPs and remixes have been released with widespread praise for the precision and attention to detail Lapalux brings to the table. The concept for this limited edition cassette revolves around loops. Lapalux likens the process of making a record to the cycle of life. He states making a record is “a never ending cycle and a slowly developing loop, much akin to the feeling of what it is to be alive, to die, and the afterlife.” The movements of this project fit this form: ABOVE represents life, BETWEEN represents death, and BELOW represents the afterlife. A 4-track tape record is the instrument of choice. Lapalux has established a voice that is a masterful blend of analog and digital traditions. The whole project was recorded live and in one take with Lapalux manning the fader controls of the tape recorder. The tape contained loops of short music ideas he had recorded and then played back at varying speeds. The result is an intensely rich and introspective collection of ambient tracks. “ABOVE” evolve the most of the three tracks–where we begin is far darker than where we end. In many ways this makes sense to me as from Lapalux’s perspective, or for anyone reading this post’s perspective for that matter, life is the the process where progression can be traced. We have no sense of “reality” for the other processes portrayed in this project. The opening track begins with a single sound mimicking a tolling bell. It is gritty, dissonant, and dark, painting a grim picture of life from the early moments of the track. Slowly a repeating three-note figure fades in and the bell melts into the background become engulfed by the wet reverb of this repeating figure. I hear something a little different every time I listen–sometimes this figure is being sung by a choir, sometimes it feels like like a guitar, sometimes all I can hear is the static that sits in the background and the crackling tape noises. This is the core of beauty in minimal music for me– it’s a simple pattern and takes so many forms and the shift between these forms is triggered by such the smallest and, what feels like, most insignificant events. By the time “ABOVE” fades out, the opening bells have given way to a bright landscape of many open intervals and major sonorities. In the final thirty-seconds, however, the faint sound of the bells grows once more leading into “BETWEEN” or the representation of death. This bell becomes analogous to a heartbeat as it opens with force and strength, but struggles to remain heard and beating at the end of its life. “BETWEEN,” as one might predict, is rather dark. The sound of waves that have been pitched down create a sinister opening and are joined by a dark bass drone. A similar ambiguous choir-like instrument sets a new pattern of four notes that continue through the track. In perhaps an effort to simulate a rising towards heaven, sounds are added from the bottom up. The last layer to be populated is a shrill series of squeaks that grow in number and intensity during the last couple minutes of the track. As the track fades out the sound of waves remain. Somehow they have also risen now being played at a truer pitch painting a calm and peaceful scene to end this representation of death. In my eyes, “BELOW” perfectly captures the uncertainty of the afterlife. The duration of this third and final track transforms these two locations into sonic modes, keeping one foot in each in a careful balancing act. It is a meditative uncertainty that seamlessly transitions between a muddied darkness and a warming glow. A loop of two synth chord stabs fades in with a trail of reverb following each attack. The initial attack is highlighted by a deep harmony, but what resonates are shimmering harmonics–immediately heaven and hell are presented as separate but linked modes competing for our attention. As of late I have been fascinated by records that treat the mix or sound design as an instrument on a record. The quality of sound, mic placement, recording medium–the attention to these aspects of recorded and electronic music can sometimes make or break the musical content. Lapalux has taken an old and forgotten (to most) recording device building an album whose identity is directly connected to this piece of equipment. A profound and meaningful concept is combined with genius production yielding a powerful, while brief, spiritual window. 
Son Lux has left me speechless time and time again. The Son Lux project consists of Rafiq Bhatia, Ian Chang, and Ryan Lott. Lott, a composer from Los Angeles, started the group and with the help of Bhatia (guitar) and Chang (drums), the group has forged a captivating sound blending electronica and rock beautifully.
In February of 2018, the group released their sixth full-length album, Brighter Wounds. A masterpiece in itself, the group treated this project as they have their other releases. This structure includes an intricate series of remixes and reworked versions of track and small motifs from their full-length releases. The band writes, “Brighter Wounds is at the center of a body of work, where songs often appear in different iterations. This has been a trademark of the Son Lux project from the start to investigate songs from each album from multiple angles and present the results.” Yesterday’s Wake is the continuation of this investigation. The EP consists of two reworks (All Directions II and All Directions III) as well as two brand new songs that are ripe with “DNA” from the album. All Directions II builds slowly as a meditation on a single string melody. The texture grows and brightens as the short opening track evolves. It is an orchestral opening that borrows from the bands earlier work such as “No Crimes.” “Delivery” is the first new full song on the EP and it is mesmerizing. A beautiful mix of electronic and acoustic instruments blends together creating a hypnotizing descending line. Tonally and metrically it is hard to place the tune from the beginning. Instead, Lott’s vocals lead us to a heavy drop of frantic and punchy drums laced with driving bass lines and synths. The dry and crisp mix on Lott’s vocals stands in the foreground of this maximalist texture. “All Directions III” takes the same string melody from the opening of the EP and recontextualizes it. Slightly faster with a noticeably more jagged accompaniment, this rework feels like and interlude leading into the centerpiece and title track of the EP. The fourth and final track “Yesterday’s Wake” is dripping with gospel influence. An organ is the main character from the beginning remaining steady with the chord progression and a flurry of distant drums and strings play in the periphery. Lott sings with a much more somber and reserved delivery–his words quiver with emotion as the final verse comes to a close. Needless to say, if you are unfamiliar with Son Lux’s earlier work, start from the beginning. What makes this group so special to me is the way you can trace the progress and evolution of their sound through their structure of remixes and reworks. While it stands alone as a brilliant EP, its full brilliance is reviled when you are able to recognize the musical ideas that return from projects past to create this grand work of art. |
RSS Feed