I’m fairly sure that the combination of classical sounds
which repeated exposure has made seem organic and the clearly artificial is
what makes Program Music I so enticing to so many people. These same two elements conspire on Étude no.3 pour cordes et poulies, albeit existing in their own form rather than conforming to a predictable electronic structure. The main difference, though?
Bulk is an unsung lo-fi indie classic. The story goes that Jack Logan, a pool motor repairman from Athens, GA, spent a decade rackin up quite a catalog of bedroom folk material, something to the tune of 600 songs. Luckily he got noticed for making some comic starring Pete Buck of R.E.M. as a superhero, so here are 42 tracks from that selection. This dude is a genius. Jack doesn't stick to one particular genre, hopping from folk to post-punk to country to blues and more with every track. The only thing that remains constant is the feeling that you're listening to an intensely personal bedroom album by a reclusive muse. My faves include "The Parishioners," which features the late, great fellow Athens resident Vic Chesnutt on vocals, a badass stripped-down cover of Neil Young's "On The Beach"... shit, there's too much on here to choose from. It's a shame that the most attention that this guy's ever gotten came from his part on an episode of Space Ghost Coast 2 Coast. On second thought, that isn't a shame. That rules. great episode btw
Originally a Kiwi, from Te Awanga, Connan and his band of misfits relocated to London, bringing their murky psych-pop with them. Funnily enough, they have supported Crowded House of all people (surely the NZ music scene is not that small?), though I would assume those kind of high profile gigs have not helped so much in connecting with the right audience. Considering the return to sun-bleached psych in the indiesphere, I cannot understand why this guy is not more popular. Check the video for a more energetic example of his oddball pop.
Though this might be termed a modern classical piece, it
begins with an aesthetic closer to noise or drone: allowing distorted sounds separated
from instrumental identities to swell and flow, with continuous climaxes, each
more intense than the last.The noisier
aesthetic gives way to what sounds like an organ breathing a sigh of relief; if
this is supposed to be religious music, it seems demons have been exorcised.
But such relief is only superficial, as the string-dominated second half of the
piece expresses great sorrow, not coming off as clichéd or kitschy if only
because the listener has experienced a kind of struggle themselves in the first
half. These ‘parts’ complement beautifully because intensity is maintained throughout
the entire piece, and neither resorts to gimmick to shock or touch. The
melodrama of accessible modern classical (though admittedly I sometimes crave
it) is absent from this piece, rendering it authentically moving and quite a
nice treat indeed.
Striking a delectable balance between pop-sensibility and noisy lunacy, Swell Maps present post-punk in the fashion in which it thrives strongest. There is something unsettling running through this recording, though in no way does it bubble over, which results in a tense and intensely interesting listen.
This band's been my go-to music whenever I can't think of what I wanna listen to for the past month or so. Duster sounds like a combination of the 90's guitar indie sounds of Polvo, Bedhead and the like with the stripped-down, barren dirges of Codeine, usually complimented with fittingly lo-fi, hazy production. Many are familiar with their '98 LP Stratosphere, probably one of the most chill albums of all time. This EP continues further down that path of lackadaisical dreamy indie rock with the exception of the opener "Irato," an uncharacteristically upbeat tune driven by an electronic beat and interesting guitar harmonies. Other tracks of note include "August Relativity" with it's trippy backwards drums and whirring synth lead, and "Want No Light To Shine," an absolute stunner of a close to an EP packed with substance.
