#tab magazine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dustedmagazine · 2 months

Text

Dust Volume 10, Number 2

Ballister

It’s a leap year, so we all get an extra 24 hours to listen to February music. Why not try some of these selections from our endless piles of when-i-get-to-its? We’ve got unhinged beatmakers and noise-addled Canadians, smashing, grabbing jazz men and psychedelic post-punk. And really a lot more. February always seems long. This year it’s even more extended. Use your time wisely. Play records.

This month’s contributors include Patrick Masterson, Ian Mathers, Bill Meyer, Bryon Hayes, Tim Clarke, Jennifer Kelly, Jonathan Shaw, Jim Marks and Andrew Forell.

8ruki — POURquoi!! (33 Recordz)

youtube

This ain’t your mother’s TTC. Bilingual Parisian 8ruki takes most of his cues from Atlanta, acting with a whole lotta Whole Lotta Red in mind and squeezing 22 songs into his third album — about right for contemporary hip-hop in this vein, which frequently abandons ideas after less than two minutes and leaves a trail of incomplete sketches in its wake; like others his age, 8ruki has evolved to consider this less a bug (especially for stans forever thirsty for the next “project”) than a feature, the default mode of working. I don’t know what good it would do to comment on a song called “Andrew Tate!!” or “Elon Musk!!” at this stage other than to suggest the guy’s just being (what the French call) a provocateur, but peek elsewhere and you’ll find an unexpected beat switch on “VAris//PIENna,” not to mention a world-shrinking reference to the Golden State Warriors; the high-pitched squeaks of “CA$h!!” and “GIVENCHY MARgiela!”; the string sample and rolling bass of “EDQuer!!”; and a whole lot more to enjoy. Ignore the annoying tendency to turn caps off halfway through a song title; this is a fun record with a lot going on that’s even better if you more than half understand it.

Patrick Masterson

ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT — “Darling The Dawn” (Constellation)

The credits for this duo’s second release are deceptively simple; Ariel Engle (La Force, Broken Social Scene) as just “voice” and Efrim Manuel Menuck (Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Thee Silver Mt Zion) as just “noise.” But there are whole worlds contained in voice and noise, and there’s a sonic, emotional, and political complexity here that makes it feel much weightier and more elaborate than the work of any two people. (It also had one of the best song titles of last year in “We Live on a Fucking Planet and Baby That’s the Sun.”) There are distinct songs here, even some refrains, but the whole of “Darling The Dawn” also feels like one long ebbing and flowing movement, culminating in lovely, shattered grandeur with the closing one-two punch of “Anchor”/“Lie Down in Roses Dear.” Shoegaze without guitars (although not without occasional strings or drums, from Jessica Moss on violin and Liam O’Neill, respectively), emotional noise music, kosmiche played in a paupers’ graveyard; it’s hard to know what to call what ALL HANDS_MAKE LIGHT does, other than impressive. Maybe voice and noise is enough description after all.

Ian Mathers

Ballister — Smash And Grab (Aerophonic)

In Chicago, the smash and grab game is strong. People aren’t just breaking windows but driving vehicles through them. Ballister apply that spirit of aggressive enterprise to performance on this memento of saxophonist Dave Rempis, cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm and drummer Paal Nilssen-Love’s reunion at the Catalytic Sound Festival in Chicago in December, 2022. The reeds wail and probe, the strings splinter and scrape, the drums smash rhythm in the air and reshape them. And that’s just in the first few minutes. Over the course of the set, they find ways to apply that assertive spirit to quieter passages and slower passages, fashioning rough thickets and inconsolable laments from the same rough material. While Dusted does not recommend literal application of the album’s title when acquiring it, we confidently predict that you’ll find the record sticking to your fingers, obliging you to return it to the playback device for another go around.

Bill Meyer

Cuneiform Tabs — Cuneiform Tabs (Sloth Mate)

The Sloth Mate label is the psychedelic tendril sprouting from the flourishing vine that is the modern Bay Area post-punk scene. There’s certainly an affiliation with Famous Mammals, Children Maybe Later and others of that ilk, but there’s a tendency to stray from traditional idioms that is unique to the Sloth Mate catalog. Violent Change, headed up by the imprint’s owner Matt Bleyle, is at the center of this sub-underground cabal, coming across like a garage punk band noisily banging out Face to Face-era Kinks jams after gobbling some mind-altering flora. Sterling Mackinnon’s The False Berries on the other hand is a lo-fi ambient electronic project that recalls the early beat-inclusive work of Christian Fennesz. Bleyle and Mackinnon collaborate remotely under the Cuneiform Tabs moniker (the latter musician is based in London, England). The cross-pollination works incredibly well, with the most listenable aspects of each unit rising to the forefront. When it appears, Mackinnon’s Dan Bejar-meets-Marc Bolan warble acts as a foil for Bleyle’s deeper crooning. Similarly, the former’s atmospheric tendencies highlight the beautiful melodies hidden beneath the latter’s noise-baked tunesmithery. Cuneiform Tabs’ psychoactive sonorities require work to decipher, but the endeavor is certainly worthwhile.

Bryon Hayes

Mia Dyberg Trio — Timestretch (Clean Feed)

It’s tempting to take the title of Timestretch ironically, since this Scandinavian trio compacts a lot of action into 43.18. There are 14 tracks, all but three composed by bandleader and alto saxophonist Dyberg. But more likely, it addresses this paradox; while the music never feels like it’s in a hurry, there’s a fair bit going on. Tonally, Dyberg shifts easily between slightly sour and just sweet enough, and her phrasing is mobile, but never busy. On a few unaccompanied tracks, she unburdens herself more directly, mourning for those laid low by conflict. Bassist Asger Thomsen anchors the music with stark, strategically placed notes, and adds dimension with occasional sparse, bowed comments. But it’s drummer Simon Fochhammer who gives the music shape, sometimes with a quick rustle, other times by building an eventful structure around his partners.

Bill Meyer

Kali Malone — All Life Long (Ideologic Organ)

Swedish composer and organist Kali Malone takes a rigorous, structured approach to making music, crafting deliberately pared-back and laser-focused pieces that make the listener acutely aware of the shifting harmonic dynamics within thick layers of sound. This 78-minute album presents an intimidating edifice to a casual listener, but it is organized to allow curious immersion in more easily digestible sections. The longest tracks are organ pieces stretching to around 10 minutes in duration, aching with melancholy. However, there are also shorter vocal and brass pieces that deviate away from held drones into more spacious, overlapping progressions that are, on occasion, almost buoyant. All Life Long feels like music for a less easily distracted age; to be patient enough to bear witness to its full, solemn unfolding requires commitment, but how often do you hear music this awe-inspiringly pure?

Tim Clarke

Michael Nau — Accompany (Karma Chief)

Accompany rides the line between cosmic country and garden variety indie pop, its gentle melancholy enlivened by radiant runs of twanging guitar. “It’s an impossible life to get over,” Michael Nau croons in “Painting a Wall,” sounding beaten down but not quite broken, grounded in the ordinary but yearning for transcendence. Nau, you might remember, fronted the indie chamber pop Page France in the early aughts and the slightly more countrified Cotton Jones in the late ones. This fifth solo album hits its peak in plaintive “Shape-Shifting,” where an otherworldly echo sheathes both Nau’s voice and the rumble of piano, and a glow suffuses everything, making it more.

Jennifer Kelly

Note — Impressions of a Still Life EP (The North Quarter)

Manchester’s Note hasn’t been around all that long — the earliest traces of his Soundcloud only reach back to October of 2021 — but just within the last year, he’s demonstrated a knack for fusing airy, sultry R&B moods with the breaks n’ bass of UK dance music’s storied past. Late January’s Impressions of a Still Life EP out via The North Quarter imprint, helmed by Dutch producer Lenzman (himself a veteran of labels like Metalheadz, Nu-Directions and Fokus), is another fine example: Aside from the stirring “Vespertine” that debuted last summer and features poet and spoken word artist Aya Dia, plus “Cold Nights” that came in November, Note fills out the EP with three additional songs of varying speed and mood. The best might be “EVR,” which again features a vocalist, this time singer-songwriter Feeney. Employing deep bass, fluttering percussion and featherweight piano flourishes, the production here is top-notch Brit-inflected R&D&B. Watch this space.

Patrick Masterson

Plaza — Adult Panic (Self-Release)

The novelist and rock critic (and one-time Dusted writer) Michael Fournier spent the pandemic on Cape Cod with his wife Becca, he learning the bass and she the drums. Adult Panic collects 11 spiked and minimalist cuts from this experiment, almost entirely instrumental (there’s a shouted refrain on “(The Real) Mr. Hotdog”) and rife with lockdown agitation. The drums are pretty basic, a skitter of high-hat with snare on the upbeats, but the bass parts wander and jitter intriguingly. The title track has a Slint-ish post-rock open-ended-ness, repeated riffs left to linger and shift in the air. “The Tomb of Santa Claus” moves faster and more insistently, letting surf-like bent notes flare from rickety architectures. The whole experience is rather dour and claustrophobic, right up until the end when “(The Real) Mr. Hotdog” clatters into earshot and the two Fourniers seem to be, finally, having some fun.

Jennifer Kelly

Caroline Polachek — Desire, I Want to Turn to You: Everasking Edition (Perpetual Novice)

youtube

I’m not gonna sit here and tell you all about how big Caroline Polachek’s 2023 was; if you were paying any attention to the conversation, you already know Desire, I Want to Turn to You was universally, justifiably acclaimed. The Everasking Edition tacks on seven additional songs, five fresh out the box, one an acoustic rendition of “I Believe” and one a cover. Regarding the latter: Anyone paying attention to the machinations of the modern music business will know the name Jaime Brooks, who was half of Elite Gymnastics and now works as Default Genders in addition to unflinching commentary on whatever the fuck is going on with Billboard charts and the ugly realities of how no one’s getting Spotify royalties. “Coma” was originally theirs from Main Pop Girl 2019, a beautiful, delicately skipping adrenaline rush of a love song. Polachek doesn’t radically reinvent what’s already great; instead, she leaves the music alone and takes ownership of the rendition with her lower pitch and breathy delivery. A heartfelt nightcap on an imperial year, you couldn’t have scripted that Valentine’s Day release any more perfectly.

Patrick Masterson

Proton Burst — La Nuit (I, Voidhanger)

When the wife of storied French comics artist Phillipe Druillet died in 1975, Druillet poured his grief and rage into an idiosyncratic graphic narrative, La Nuit (1976); it’s full of mutant biker gangs, Druillet’s signature fever-dream architectural forms and hair-raising violence. French thrash metal weirdos Proton Burst loved the book, and in 1994 they produced an album-length project, part response, part soundtrack to the comic’s maniacal intensities. I, Voidhanger has given that Proton Burst record a deluxe reissue, including the original music, an extended live performance of it from 1995 and a booklet including eye-popping images from Druillet’s comic and an essay. If you’re in this for the music, the real treat is the live set, which is nearly as unhinged as Druillet’s illustrations. The band rages, rants, foments and froths—and is that a harp? Who knows. Like the original graphic narrative, what matters here is the volatility of the feeling tone, more so than any sense-making (or sonic) throughway. Lose yourself in the violence of it. Maybe that feeling of dislocation gets closest to the irrational agony of loss Druillet drew La Nuit in the teeth of, some 50 years ago.

Jonathan Shaw

Mariano Rodriguez — Exodo (self-released)

Mariano Rodriguez is an Argentinian guitarist in the Takoma school tradition with a large and high-quality back catalog. He often focuses on playing with a slide but is equally adept at playing without one and sometimes incorporates experiments with sound, as on Huesos Secos (2020), and fuller traditional instrumentation, as on Praise the Road (2017), into his recordings. Exodo, released late last year, is a set of mainly guitar soli. The playing is typically inspired, impressive without being flashy, and the compositions are tuneful and well-developed. Included is a 12-string anthem (“Lazaro”), Rodriguez’s signature slide work (such as on “The Desterrados”), bluesy 6-string meditations (“Diaspora”), and a couple of experiments with studio effects and overdubs (“The River and the Blind”) and drone (“Mother of the Road”). Over all, Exodo is a fine set of tunes that flows cohesively.

Jim Marks

Twin Tribes — Pendulum (Beso de Muerte Records)

Pendulum by Twin Tribes

It’s unclear precisely which tribes are twinned here, but if the music on Pendulum is any indication, it’s the deathrock freaks (with their long-standing romance of moldering, undead bodies) and the coldwave kids (who like to dance in place, furiously, disaffectedly, bodies frosty for entirely different reasons). Twin Tribes hails from the bastion of moody electronic music that is Brownville, TX, and somehow these Latinx fellows have managed to survive their local cultural climate long enough to release three LPs, a live tape and a whole bunch of singles and remixes. Pendulum refines the essential sonic template laid down in 2019’s Ceremony: tuneful, shimmery synths; snappy, brittle rhythm tracks; baritone vocals about zombies at the disco. If that sounds like fun, it surely is—but you’ll have a hard time convincing the kids in black eye makeup to crack anything like a smile. This reviewer can’t help it. The songs are too good, the vibes are way too goofily gravid. Dance, you flesh-eating misfits, dance.

Jonathan Shaw

Volksempfänger — Attack of Sound (Cardinal Fuzz / Feeding Tube)

Attack Of Sound by Volksempfänger

Attack of Sound’s swirling boy-girl harmonies instantly call to mind shoegaze luminaries Slowdive, but Volksempfänger’s noise-strewn guitar latticework is more aligned with The Jesus and Mary Chain. Furthermore, the Dutch duo’s melodic flavor is as sweet as 1960s AM radio. Ajay Saggar (Bhajan Bhoy) and Holly Habstritt combine these disparate sonic strands to create tidy noise pop gems, which they wrap in Phil Spector sonics. The wall of sound approach imbues each song with a pulsating thrum. This is the beating heart of their sound, underpinning the delightful vocal harmonies, shimmering guitar melodies, and waves of coruscating feedback. The pair attains a balance between saccharine and savory aromas: dream pop wistfulness (“What the Girl Does” and “Your Gonna Lose Hard”) interchanges with propulsive garage rock (“How We Made It Seem” and “Damned & Drowned”). The album closes out with the kaleidoscopic psychedelia of “You’ve Lost It,” introducing yet another aspect of Volksempfänger’s oeuvre. This last-minute shift in mood adds a quirky sense of quietude to an otherwise exhilarating journey.

Bryon Hayes

Ian Wellman — The Night the Stars Fell (Ash International)

The Night The Stars Fell by Ian Wellman

Recorded in the fire swept forests and deserts of Southern California, Ian Wellman’s The Night the Stars Fell plays like a Disintegration Loops for natural disasters. Wellman’s treated field recordings encourage the listener to subsume themselves in the natural rhythm of the wind that fanned the wildfires much like Basinski’s seminal work. While Disintegration Loops drew its potency from the association with 9/11, Wellman’s project is a more deliberate meditation on destruction. He coats his field recordings of deteriorating human structures — railcars, homes — and landscape ambience with short-wave radio static and decaying tape loops. There’s a concentration on both the violence of the destruction and the desolation of the aftermath. Huge swells of sound are interspersed with howls of wind, coruscating swathes of static and the creak and crank of burnt timber both natural and manufactured. The Night the Stars Fell is an absorbing evocation of nature’s power.

Andrew Forell

Wharfer — Postboxing (Self-Release)

Postboxing by Wharfer

Wharfer’s Kyle Wall has long made the kind of shadowy, pared down indie-folk singer/songwriter music that elicits comparisons to Bill Callahan and Will Oldham. This time out, however, he ditches vocals and verse chorus structure entirely and enlists Chuck Johnson (pedal steel), Ian O’Hara (acoustic bass) and Duncan Wickel (violin) for a set of ambient, piano-forward reflections. These tracks are quietly riveting as, like “Wishing Well in White Noise,” the blend the chalky, elegiac tones of the piano’s upper registers with limpid pools of sustained pedal steel. Not quite ambient, the piece swirls and rounds to its own subtle rhythms, a faint thunk of bass ordering it forward. “Alto” brings the long, bowed vibrations of violin into the mix, then a sprightly sprinkle of pizzicato strings. And in the title track, a ritual voice flickers in and out of focus, but only as tone and texture. The piano carries the narrative, as string washes build and bass notes drop in and seagulls cry in the distance. It’s a subtle but powerful voice on its own, and you don’t miss the words one bit.

Jennifer Kelly

8 notes · View notes