Top 5 alternative film happenings this summer
June 16, 2016
Ah, summer… It can be a beautiful time, but it can also be too hot to handle during the day. For cinephiles, it can also mean a drought at movie theaters. But fear not! This year, there are some great offerings that will not only keep you engaged but also in the comfort of amazing film venues with air-conditioning. A glance at the upcoming screenings at indie theaters in Miami this summer reveals an eclectic mix, featuring a documentary, a new film by a legendary director, a classic anime feature and even a music-themed movie screening for one night only.
Miami solo musician Xela Zaid evolves as he searches for raw essentialism of music on latest album — a vinyl release
June 6, 2016
Local gem Xela Zaid has long been one of the most innovative musicians working the Miami music scene, from his early career as a singer-songwriter using unique tunings on an acoustic guitar with a microphone shoved into its sound hole to his current experimentation with peddles, radio and abstract noise.
2014’s 10 great records, including a rare masterpiece by Amen Dunes
December 29, 2014
More than ever this year Independent Ethos has drifted toward film over music. Even the “Miami New Times” and “Pure Honey” magazine, which in the past, usually have tasked this writer with music writing, has assigned more film writing over music. Also, save for a particularity unforgettable performance by Mogwai at Grand Central, this year saw a dearth of live shows from visiting bands. But that did not mean I have ignored new music in 2014. This year was especially remarkable because it also included a type of album that comes by every five to seven years: a masterpiece from an unknown band. This blue moon belongs to Amen Dunes’ Love.
From when I first heard this album, months ago, in the spring, there was no doubt Love would top this list because not only is it the best album I heard in 2014, but one of the greatest albums I’ve heard in the 21st century. As usual, with such bold statements, it’s personal. But I cannot help but marvel at the microscopic musical moments within the album that make it otherworldly and gorgeous.
The instruments are so subtly handled on Love some are hard to recognize sonically. Was that a flute shimmering through the extended, sustained squonk of saxophone in the fade out of opening track “White Child”? Is the rumble in the distance a trumpet? Could there be lightly bowed violin mixed into the quiet strumming of follow-up track “Lonely Richard”? I prefer not to know because the spectral quality of many of the songs on Love weave a transporting tapestry of atmosphere simply unheard of on many modern rock albums.
Musicians, especially pop artists, are so full of self-conscious awareness nowadays that it’s refreshing to hear an album as remarkably luscious as Love while maintaining a mysterious distance of relatability. It’s more impressionistic than expressive, a seeming throwback to Brian Eno’s Another Green World in the vividness of the songs. It helps that there is a beautiful photograph of nature on the cover art. It appears to have been taken at dusk, the moon fading into the early light of day next to a massive puffy cloud and a tree line shrouded in fog. There’s a woman in the corner, baring her bosom to the scenery, looking away from the camera and toward the landscape. You don’t picture this music coming from a studio in Brooklyn, where much of this album was recorded, the music flows out from the earthy branches of trees like a mist.
These songs are auras of ghosts. But it’s not a record fixed in ethereal atmospherics turned to mush, like the Cocteau Twins. It’s more the grounded residue of Meddle-era Pink Floyd with a minimalist touch and the vocals of a rustic Bryan Ferry or Tim Buckley. Singer and multi-instrumentalist Damon McMahon strips down his style on “Sixteen” with only his fluttering voice so drenched in reverb, it’s not always clear what he’s singing. “My love, you’re gone” stands out, but not every line of the lyric. The piano line that makes the music of the song at most has two phrases with two notes each. But it’s not the melody so much as the echo that bounces from one speaker to another that creates the song’s dreamy quality.
That’s the simplest song on the album. Some songs on Love, the second album by Amen Dunes on Sacred Bones Records, have a country feel like the ramble of “Rocket Flare” or a Latin jazz vibe, like “Lilac In Hand.” But genre skipping is only in the shadows of this music. A distinct ghostly style defines the record. The opening of “Lonely Richard” sounds like that moment of slipping out of consciousness into a tranquil slumber. The song begins with a light strum of an acoustic guitar above the echoing end of bow on a string instrument. Opening the song with the reverbing luster of a note’s end upends how the listener considers something like a violin or viola that’s not there and defines this record’s quality. It’s probably guitarist Jordi Wheeler’s fingers delicately touching an electric guitar’s strings, playing the reverberations of the strings instead of the strings themselves. Below the luscious drone of the lightly strummed acoustic with that delicately bowed reverb, drummer Parker Kindred plays a light beat on his snare augmented by the soft rumble of a tom-tom that he must be hitting with a padded timpani mallet. As McMahon sings “know yourself … known yourself for all time” the shimmering drone does not break but creaks along while a quietly tapped piano fades in from nowhere to add to the melody and another vocalist adds some lower-end “deh, deh, deh…” as the song fades away before growing too complicated.
Amen Dunes creates musical miracles with voice and instruments. It culminates with the album’s epic title track, which begins with an ambling piano and some softly tapped hand drums. 
Occasionally there are misplaced notes, but they add a human character that trumps anything made by a computer. McMahon sings of dreaming and lost love, as a few more instruments join in, like a shaker and then the distant exhalation of breath through a French horn, but mostly McMahon piles on vocals, from an extended single note, to some unclear, simple scat singing over his lyrics that have become too obscured to make out, but it’s OK, it’s a terrific jam that never overwhelms and maintains the record’s wonderful mood.
Love undoubtedly stands out as the best of the year for this writer. It was one of the few vinyl records purchased this year, and I was happy to find an early clear vinyl edition at Sweat Records, my local Miami record shop. There were only two other records 
I found worth ordering as imports after streaming them on Spotify because they just were not available in the U.S. at the time. Those two records top the beginning of the rest of this writer’s 10 great albums of 2014. The first was The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s Revelation, which came as a beautiful dual-toned blue vinyl on two LPs. As great as the packaging was, the best thing about it is the music. On first listen, I thought the songs were minimalist Kraut-rock-like drones, but then repeated listens reaped more rewards, as the complexities of the tracks began to stand out. Favorites are the opener and closer, two songs that rock and drone in their own lusciously layered, melodious manners. The first harsh and aggressive, the final buoyantly pretty.
The third vinyl purchase was the original motion picture soundtrack of Only Lovers Left Alive with music primarily by the film’s director Jim Jarmusch and his band Sqürl with accompaniment 
by lute master Jozef van Wissem. Again, great gatefold packaging featuring colored vinyl, in this case clear blood red. for this soundtrack of a terrific film on the existential malaise of immortal vampires. The film features a couple of great musical moments, a dizzying opening featuring twirling camerawork surely based on 33rpm vinyl and a visit to a bar in Tangiers out of a Win Wenders movie. It’s a film that will rate high on my list of the best films of 2014 only because it all works so well together: the acting, writing, cinematography and of course the music (read my review).
The bottom of the list are records I did not buy (except for one weird exception) but enjoyed repeated listens via Spotify (follow us here), including one I reviewed. I’ll list them in descending order with appropriate links to my writing. Also, as above, all titles link to the item description page on Amazon. If you purchase via the specific link, you will be financially supporting this blog:
- Ty Segall – Manipulator (A link to my review)
- Owls – Two
- Broncho – Just Enough Hip to be a Woman (A link to a preview of the album)
- Gov’t Mule – Darkside of the Mule
- Dylan Howe – New Designs on Bowie’s Berlin
- Jozef van Wissem and Jim Jarmusch – Concerning the Entrance Into Eternity
- Guardians of the Galaxy – song soundtrack on cassette (just because the format is so cool and the songs are great selections from the commercial radio I grew up with)
Tomorrow: part 1 of the 20 best films of 2014.
Alx Czo shares what it feels like to release music on cassette — A Cassette Store Day feature
September 26, 2014
The revival of analog releases and recording methods is more than a kitschy approach to music in a world dominated by on-line hits and streams. It can actually form the music. Miami-based musician Alex Caso understands the role that the analog plays in creative restraint. It is one of the reasons why he self-released his two recent albums — under the alter ego Alx Czo — as cassettes.Perched on the edge of Independent Ethos’ leather couch, Caso is decked out in a Hawaiian shirt, shorts and canvas shoes. His translucent blue sunglasses are perched atop his bushy hair, as we share a listen to his ambient album, She is a Galaxy. He checks to make sure the noise reduction is off on our sound system. It’s the way he prefers people listen to his new albums.
Releasing his music on tape is not so much a choice to satisfy audiophiles as it is to have a physical end-product that defines the music. Let’s face it, cassettes have an inherit hiss by nature, and there is always a generational loss from the master, but when music can take those qualities and run with them it transcends the medium’s limitations, and Caso’s luscious, dreamy, rough-hewn music works aptly with it.
It’s not about pristine sound quality. The subtle hiss of tape adds an almost subconscious layer to the music, which itself is quite layered with the dreamy wash of synths and guitars. That it is rich with electronics that reverberate with a layered luster somehow makes it appropriate for the medium. But do not call it ramshackle or gimmicky. Caso put a lot of consideration into these albums.
Listening to the wash and sparkle of the ambient album, Caso admits a preference for this music over what he calls his “pop” record, Mujeres Infieles, which roughly translates from his native Spanish to “Unfaithful Women.” As you may infer, his preference is not so much about the quality of the music as it is what inspired the different works.
He wrote and recorded Mujeres over the course of a year, between 2011 and 2012. He calls them love songs, but they are not the uplifting sort of ditties that elevate the romantic notion to a pedestal. “I work a lot out of emotional needs,” Caso explains. “A lot of these songs I wrote after a break up. It’s all emotionally based. It’s like exorcising demons. They’re what I call heartmares.”
In fact, the album features two tracks named “Heartmares,” a “dub” version that closes out Side A and the original version, that ends the album. The dub version is an instrumental of layered, twinkling melodies and hums, that also has a steady, 
lashing crackle that actually sounds like a brittle, old tape. The original actually sounds like an early Depeche Mode song, if Depeche Mode made spy music. The only vocal is a distant howling wind, distorted by a ghostly echo.
It’s generally hard to understand what Caso sings on the album of pop songs. It could be by design, as he’s not really into revealing details about who the songs are about. Though, he says, they may know who they are. But it matters little, as it’s about his affection for sonics, which sound inspired by early Magnetic Fields and My Bloody Valentine. The album opens with “Princess Fantasy,” featuring an electronic beat mixed into a hissing, percolating melody that chugs along like a brilliant early Magnetic Fields song, in fact.
He is aware that ‘80s and ‘90s-era music is a big influence on him. He says pop songs from back then were just better than those of today. He notes there is just no vision in commercial or pop songwriting anymore. “The old guys were right because every decade the songs are getting worse,” he bemoans. “Everything now is a dance remix or songs about butts/big booty girls or a generic hum to drink your coffee at Starbucks.”
His vocals are mixed into the music in such a way that it is hard to make out exactly what he is singing, but the ambiguity is part of the music’s charm. During “Princess Fantasy,” I may have heard “She belongs to Satan” at one point. It works, as these tapes are a sonic statement to an era with sly little nods to its medium. Within the album there are also sonic effects like warped piano and some clicks of mechanics that might seem like the aural symptom of an aged cassette tape. That the music is often muscular and catchy is testament to this Miami music veteran’s skill as a songwriter.
Whereas Mujeres was completed in a year’s time, he notes She is a Galaxy is the product of roughly a decade of ideas. The springboard often came from a need to wind down from a night of work. “A lot of this stuff was recorded at 4 to 5 o’clock in the morning after DJ-ing,” he says.
Sometimes he would be wired from the rush of spinning and in need of mellowing at home, so he would brew up some ambient music on his keyboards and computer. He admits that the effects of the buzz of excitement, libations and sometimes exhaustion was not always conducive to judging his work. When he would wake the next day and listen back to the results he could either be delightfully surprised or horrified. Though he admits to the challenge of this music, he says he preferred working on the ambient work over the pop songs because of the amount of free-flowing creativity involved. “It’s based on a sound, and then you go from there,” he says.
Still, the former member of the Miami-based band The Waterford Landing — among other area groups — notes that he enjoyed working solo. Even though he also admits missing some aspects of collaboration. He found himself with some surprising 
challenges when dealing with some elements of the pop songs, from the way the music sounded to the bridges within the songs. “When I was in a band, things would get recorded faster,” he explains. “It’s always better working with more heads, and sometimes you get in the way of recordings with self-doubt.”
But he is quite happy with the results, and the neat package of the cassette offers a sense of closure and accomplishment. He says it’s about preserving an era, even if some of that was documenting an emotionally painful time (he’s currently in a content steady relationship). Music is by its nature ephemeral, but these tapes capture his songs in a satisfying physical object. “I wanted some sort of document,” Caso says.
He also says the package signifies the end of a project in a nice tidy physical object, but it also offers something deeper. “It is nostalgic too,” he admits. “It reminds me of when I was a kid. There is something about the sound quality.”
He only had 50 tapes manufactured of each album, and he still has a few left. He says he found the process easy and enjoyable. Now, Caso is already considering releasing more music, if not his then someone else’s. “If I could keep it as a boutique label, I’d be happy,” he notes.
You can order either cassette via Alx Cxo’s Bandcamp page: www.alxczo.bandcamp.com, and stream them in their entirety at no cost. There is also a 6-song covers EP called “Under Cover,” which you can even download for free. Both these albums are also available in the Miami area via Sweat Records and in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, at Radio-Active Records. Tomorrow is International Cassette Store Day, and both stores will be running specials during that day.
Despite what you may have seen at last night’s MTV Music Video Awards, classic rock ‘n’ roll is not going to ever go away. As this veteran music writer grows older, every year there seems to be some group of younger and younger musicians who come up with new music that harkens back to the roots of rock. Last week, I pointed out Broncho, a band from Norman, Oklahoma, who have come up with one of the catchiest tunes of 2014. Their song “Class Historian” hits on the tiniest details of ‘70s era post punk with an uncanny sensibility (Broncho’s new single: the catchiest indie rock song I’ve heard in years).
Tomorrow, Ty Segall will release his 12th full-length album, Manipulator. Over the past few years Segall has refined his garage rock noise-pop to feature more diversity in his song-writing and a stronger grip on the subtleties of the rock song. Opening like nothing else in his catalog: with a blare of harmonizing organs, the album bounds along through 17 tracks as varied as anything else in his career. Some even include strings. But he has not compromised his command of the electric guitar, offering many a shifty, screeching solo over the course of the sprawling, near hour-long LP (and double vinyl – order here to support IndieEthos).
“The Singer” is one of several tracks that feature a string section. It also has the added bonus of whispered vocals to add emphasis to a few words that end certain phrases — very ‘60s psychedelic. But, more than ever, the influences that shine brightest are that of the early ‘70s glam rock scene. Segall’s voice more than ever recalls Marc Bolan, and there’s even a song (“The Clock”) that features strings and an acoustic guitar line that sounds eerily like the one that drives “Andy Warhol,” a deep cut on Bowie’s classic 1971 album Hunky Dory.
A back-to-back trio of songs early in Manipulator cast a powerful shadow of the guitar crunch bravura Segall is best known for over the album. “It’s Over,” features the pounding, driving, feedback-fueled stuff fans would be more familiar with.
“Feel” opens more subtly but eventually features a muscular guitar solo that builds and builds to more rapid plucking until it gives way to a drum solo featuring a nice amount of cowbell. Finally, “Faker” features dominating, strutting guitar work that stands as testament to Segall’s connection with the instrument.
But there are more surprises in store. “The Connection Man” is driven by pulsing archaic electronics that brings to mind the tools of the Silver Apples. Over all, Manipulator is one grand rallying cry celebrating the immortality of rock ‘n’ roll, produced with great affection with his stalwart collaborators Mikal Cronin (bass), Emily Rose Epstein (drums) and Charles Moothart (guitar) and several other guest musicians adding vocals, keyboards and strings. Manipulator speaks to Segall’s strength of a musician open to growth and experimentation without betraying any semblance of a signature style and could very well stand as his best album yet. I’ll leave you with a link to an mp3 of a preview track released a few weeks ago, “Susie Thumb” (jump to KEXP.org for it).
Ty Segall will be in Miami with Wand (Drag City/LA), Plastic Pinks and DJ Sean Ashworth on Thursday, Sept. 11, 9 p.m. at The Stage Miami courtesy of Miami’s coolest vinyl shop Sweat Records, where you can also pick up the record and tickets to the show. Ages: 18 and up. Tickets: $12 in advance, $15 at the door. His U.S. tour kicks off Aug. 28 Click here for tour dates. Pitch Perfect PR provided me with a preview of the album for the purpose of this review and an up-coming article in “Pure Honey” magazine.
Miami-area music figures help pick best albums of 2012
December 30, 2012
As this year comes to a close, and I spent more time than ever having to watch movies, as a newly inducted member into the Florida Film Critics Circle (including Hollywood fare! Blech), I felt a bit slack about my longtime experience covering music. So I wanted some help with a survey of some of the best albums 2012. I asked musicians, DJs and general local music scenesters of South Florida (current and past) to share their top 10 albums of 2012.
The tastes represented here are eclectic, and, as inspired by my first contributor, Emile Milgrim of Other Electricitiesand Sweat Records, include no music journalists who are pandered and marketed to by music labels. I therefore, humbly put my lists and thoughts at the end of these 12 notable personalities. Yet, I was pleased to find that within these varied lists, the one album I dared to call a masterpiece in 2012 appeared six times, far more than any other album (and the guy behind it laughed at me!)— hence the headline image.
I had attempted for a moment to survey a top 10 ranked list, but these people are not ones who follow rules easily, hence you can expect many albums ranked in no particular order and even albums from years outside 2012 and lists that did not care to limit themselves to 10 choices. I believe these are all genuinely beloved releases and should provide many intriguing discoveries for adventurous music-types.
Those included in this informal survey are all random people I know who responded to my request mostly via Facebook. I know plenty more people who could have provided intriguing lists, so if you feel left out… never fear, there is always next year.
Without further ado, on to the lists:
Emile Milgrim
Owner at Other Electricities
Ten 2012 albums listened to most (in no particular order):
Scott Walker – Bish Bosch
Lee Fields – Faithful Man
Aesop Rock – Skelethon
Loscil – Sketches From New Brighton
Micachu & The Shapes – Never
Bat For Lashes – Haunted Man
Open Mike Eagle – 4NML HSPTL
Doseone – G is for Deep
Jeans Wilder – Totally
Tim Hecker & Daniel Lopatin – Instrumental Tourist
Honorable Mentions (note: my record label released some of these)
Holly Hunt – Year One
Bacanal Intruder – Do While, If Else
Motèl Mari – Eternal Peasant
Chelsea Wolfe – Unknown Rooms
Earth – Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light II
Giulio Aldinucci – Tarsia
Dan Deacon – America
Serengeti – C.A.R.
Black Marble – A Different Arrangement
Orcas – Orcas
Reissues of Aphex Twin, Massive Attack, Stereolab, Califone, Sea & Cake, Tortoise, Crass, Codeine, Wendy Rene, Alvarius B., Destroyer, Blur, Sugar.
Sleeper hit of the year: Pepe Deluxé – Queen Of The Wave
I’m sure I’m forgetting something… It should also be noted that I probably listened to Belle & Sebastian more than anything. They’re my Beatles.
Richard Vergez
Member of the instrumental band Möthersky
Agent Side Grinder – Hardware
Excellent post-punk from Sweden. The aesthetics of Cabaret Voltaire, the fury of Swans, and the precision of Kraftwerk. Saw them live in Berlin this year, fantastic energy.
Raime – Quarter Turns Over a Living Line
A complete deconstruction of electronic music. Terrifyingly beautiful.
Fabulous Diamonds – Commercial Music
Zoned out super heavy minimalism from this Australian duo. Loads of atmosphere and droning mantras disguised as rock. Sounds like drugs.
Pye Corner Audio – The Black Mill Tapes
A collection of original analog tapes brought back to life on this double LP from UK label Type. Dark and desolate soundscapes built from vintage synths and drum machines.
Swans – The Seer
Another amazing full-length from one of the world’s most uncompromising and prolific bands. Hypnotic, cathartic and dynamic. Although I can do without the Karen O track.
Slug Guts – Playin’ in Time with the Deadbeat
Another Aussie release. Nasty and dirgey rock ‘n’ roll a la Birthday Party. As if they dug up the bones of Roland S. Howard himself and slapped six strings on him.
Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Allelujah! Don’t Bend! Ascend!
Everything you would expect from a Godspeed record. Weird tape loops, slowly building phrases, crescendos, Middle Eastern flourishes, and tons of despair. Even some spacey Hawkwind moments.
Cult of Youth – Love Will Prevail
Dark folk with a good post-punk energy. See also Death in June.
Tamaryn – Tender New Signs
Lush, swoony, reverby shoegaze stuff. Tamaryn stays consistent.
Scott Walker – Bish Bosch
This made the list only because it is the worst thing I’ve heard all year and Scott is a genius for convincing the public to spend a shit on this record. Unlistenable. Piss taker of the year award goes to Scott Walker.
Alex Caso
a.k.a. Musician/DJ Alx Czo
Top 10:
Tame Impala – Lonerism
Peaking Lights – Lucifer
Soft moon – Zeros
Swans – Seer
Sad Souls – Apeiron
Tim Hecker and Daniel Lopatin – Instrumental Tourists
Laurel Halo – Quarantine
The KVB – Always Then
Echo Lake – Wild Peace
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – Mature Themes
Notable 5 I couldn’t fit:
Brian Eno – Lux
Grimes – Visions
Gary War – Jared’s Lot
Mirroring – Foreign Body
Lust For Youth – Growing Seeds
Mikey Ramirez
Operations manager at Radio-Active Records
In no particular order:
Cult Of Youth – Love Will Prevail
Swans – The Seer
The Wake – Here Comes Everybody (reissue)
Andy Stott – Luxury Problems
Tame Impala – Lonerism
Ceremony – Zoo
Chromatics – Kill For Love
Sharon Van Etten – Tramp
Moritz Von Oswald – Fetch
Gaslamp Killer – Breakthrough
Steven Toth
a.k.a. Mr. Entertainment of the band Mr. Entertainment and the Pookie Smackers
1. Spiritualized – Sweet Heart Sweet Light
2. Guided By Voices – Let’s Go Eat The Factory
3. Brian Jonestown Massacre – Aufheben
4. Earth – Angels of Darkness Demons of Light II
5. Mark Lanegan Band – Blues Funeral
6. Ian Hunter – When I’m President
7. Kramer – Brill Building
8. Holly Hunt – Year One
9. Swans – The Seer
10. ZZZ’s – Prescription
re-issues:
Michael Chapman – Rainmaker
Captain Beefheart – Bat Chain Puller
The Reactions
Music-related film:
Waiting for Sugarman – Rodriguez
Alex Gimeno
a.k.a. Musician/DJ Ursula 1000
Poolside – Pacific Standard Time
Seahawks – Aquadisco
Fleetwood Mac – “Dreams (Psychemagik Remix)”
The Fangs – Vampire Vamp
Toy – Toy
Purson – Rocking Horse
Temples – Shelter Song
Boston Bun – Housecall
The Three Degrees – Maybe (reissue)
The Primitives – Echoes and Rhymes
Pocket of Lollipops
a.k.a. musicians Maite Urrechaga and Tony Kapel
The Kills – “The Last Goodbye” EP
Flying Lotus – Until the Quiet Comes
Crystal Castles – III
Mykki Blanco & the Mutant Angels – “Join My Militia”
Unrest – Perfect Teeth (reissue)
Grizzly Bear – Shields
Animal Collective – Centipede HZ
Jack White – Blunderbuss
The Ting Tings – Sounds From Nowheresville
Smashing Pumpkins – Oceania
Santigold – Santigold (2008)
On heavy rotation at the couple’s home this year:
Sonic Youth – Destroyed Room
Versus – Deep Red
Jane’s Addiction – Ritual De Lo Habitual
Joy Division – Unknown Pleasures
Modest Mouse – Building Nothing Out of Something
Pink Floyd – Umma Gumma or Obscured by Clouds
Bat for Lashes – Fur & Gold
David Bowie – Hunky Dory
Efterklang – Tripper
The Streets – A Grand Don’t Come For Free
Aramís Lorié
Managing Partner & Co-Founder Grand Central
Listed in no particular order:
The XX – Coexist
Grizzly Bear – Shields
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – Mature Themes
Tame Impala – Innerspeaker (2010)
Crystal Castles – III
Beck – Song Reader ( I haven’t heard it or attempted to play it yet, but concept alone is immensely brilliant)
Lower Dens – Nootropics
Tanlines – Mixed Emotions
Hundred Waters – Hundred Waters
Lana Del Rey – Born To Die (great fabrication of an artist)
John Physioc
Assistant Manager at Miami Beach Cinematheque
Listed in no particular order:
The Brian Jonestown Massacre – Aufheben
The Soft Moon – Zeros
Peaking Lights – Lucifer
Swans – The Seer
Tropic of Cancer – The End of All Things
Tales of Murder and Dust – Hallucination of Beauty
The Limiñanas – Crystal Anis
Matthew Dear – Beams
The Blondes – Blondes
Starred – “Prison to Prison” EP
Jsin Jimenez
“Doer of Jobs” at (((SHAKE)))
Grimes – Visions
Beach House – Bloom
Holly Hunt – Year One
Traxman – Da Mind Of Traxman
Tnght – Tnght
Swans – The Seer
Mala – Mala In Cuba
Ryan Hemsworth – Last Words
Metro Zu – Mink Rug
Frank Ocean – Channel Orange
Juan Montoya
Guitarist (currently member of Atlanta-based MonstrO, but formerly of Miami greats Torche, Floor and Ed Matus’ Struggle)
Manray – Tournament (2011)
Order Of The Owl – In the Noon of the After Day
Kavinsky – Drive Movie Soundtrack (Even though it’s from 2011, I spent the whole year listening to this)
Melvins – The Bulls and the Bees
Biters – “Last of a Dying Breed” EP
Can we finish it off with albums I wished would of come out? I can even title them:
My Bloody Valentine – Eternal Wait
Aphex Twin – Beyond Babylon
Trans Am – Fluid To It
Melt Banana – Nude Mood
Danzig – Sangre Nuestro
Carl Ferrari
Guiatarist of Gypsy Cat
Kurt Rosenwinke – Star of Jupiter
Elisa Weilerstein with Daniel Barenboim and the Berlin Staatskapelle – Elgar and Carter Cello Concertos
Dead Can dance – Anastasis
Lenacay – Ryma
Esperanza Spalding – Radiomusic Society
Kate Bush – 50 Words For Snow
Lupe Fiasco – Food and Liquor II
Bomba Estereo – Elegancia Tropical
Brooklyn Rider – Seven Steps
Earth – Angels of Darkness Demons of Light II
My Bloody Valentine’s long awaited follow-up to Loveless
Hans Morgenstern
writer of this blog
Finally, my top 10 albums of 2012 (and I really feared I wasn’t going to be able to come up with one based on all the film reviewing I did this year [that list will be out tomorrow, by the way]. Another note, as you can tell by the contacts above, I am too partial and precious to my local music scene to pick out local artists, for fear of leaving someone out, but let my coverage this year of Holly Hunt, Boxwood and Spielberger stand for itself.):
Swans – The Seer
I declared it a masterpiece to the creator’s face, and I am happy to own up to it here. It’s a difficult one to listen to from start to finish, from it’s near 2-hour runtime to its sweeping range of emotions, and its dynamics between noisy indulgence and soaring symphonic qualities. I doubt most modern musicians have the kind of talent Michael Gira has and know how to use it as well.
Beach House – Bloom
Another album of bold declaration to the songwriter’s face. I told singer Victoria Legrand that no album has grabbed me with such immediacy since the album that topped my 2010 list. I feel obliged to own up to that and place it after the masterpiece of 2012. Though I interviewed several other musicians, as the coverage of Swans and Beach House on this blog shows, I feel genuinely lucky to have been able to talk to the artists behind some of the greatest albums of the year. To hear these two as much as I did and study them as deep as I did and not get tired of them, either, stands as testament to that.
Grizzly Bear – Shields
I wished I could have written as extensively about and talked to the artists behind this album, but no tour down here made it hard. I was skeptical about this release, as Grizzly Bear has only turned further and further away from its brilliant moody, abstract and atmospheric debut, Horn of Plenty with each release. However, Shields, it’s fourth full-length, had so much genuine soul, it swept away all doubts with each song.
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti – Mature Themes
I had heard this man’s prior work, but was never blown away … until Mature Themes. It jumps genres with a glee I have not seen since I first heard Ween, 20 years ago. It even had progressive rock elements that remind me of very early Brian Eno. Anyone who can do that deserves props.
Lotus Plaza – Spooky Action at a Distance
So, lead singer/guitarist Bradford Cox of Deerhunter often gets all the attention for the work in the brilliantly noisy Deerhunter, but I am partial to the band’s shy guitarist Lockett Pundt. His contributions are the band’s catchiest and most indulgent. It’s all on display here, his second solo album under the moniker of Lotus Plaza.
Spiritualized – Sweet Heart Sweet Light
It’s been a long time since a Spiritualized album took ecstatic turns into blissful, noisy jams. This album has several of these moments.
Faust – 10
It may seem hardly fair to include an unreleased album on my list, but Faust is one legendary group, and it is damn sad that legal issues has kept 10 unreleased. A resourceful bootlegger manufactured two runs on vinyl, and I was lucky to have been led to a copy. The works on here are some of the best I have heard featuring founding members Jean Hervé Péron and Werner “Zappi” Diermaier since the original line-up’s masterwork Faust IV.
Diiv – Oshin
I was drawn to the wit and atmosphere of the album cover, something that has not happened to me in years. The contents did not disappoint! By tuns Krautrock-inspired droney to as catchy as the Cure, Oshin was one of the best blind-buy album surprises of my life.
Fiona Apple – The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do
It’s a sad shame that gossip rags/blogs seem attracted to hounding Apple. She is one of the most talented performers I have ever seen, and a brilliant songwriter, as well. Her raw delivery and energy are an impressive thing to capture on vinyl, and this was definitely one of the year’s highlights. Between her soulful growls and her resonating piano are brilliant, human insights few pop artists know how to tune into.
Just to off-set things, too, number 11 is an obscure honorable mention:
Birthmark – Antibodies
One of the great but little recognized albums I have heard this year comes from Birthmark. This is the on-going side-project of Nate Kinsella, formerly of Joan of Arc and Make Believe. It features the familiar deconstructive, yet still catchy approach of songwriting that defined his earlier bands. However, Kinsella brings together elements of classical instruments and electronics, and mixes them together to compliment and contrast each other to brilliant effect.
Off-setting things some more: Music documentary of the year goes to: LCD Soundsystem – Shut Up and Play the Hits
OK, so I haven’t seen the buzzy Searching for Sugarman or Marley documentaries, but I cried a tear the moment Murphy sang the lyric “this will be the last time” during “All My Friends.” So this is the way LCD ends, with a bang and a whimper. The documentary is brilliantly mixed by James Murphy himself featuring bombastic performances of the band’s final show at a sold-out Madison Square Garden interspersed among Murphy’s contemplative musings of why he ended it. The blu-ray release features the ultimate bonus feature, as it includes the entire three-and-a-half-hour MSG show spread across two blu-ray discs. LCD Soundsystem was indeed one of the most amazing bands of the turn of the millennium. They will also go down as one of the best live experiences of my life, which makes the dissolution of the band all the more tragic.
Too often, lately, I have heard lush, layered records only to feel dizzy and nauseous by the end. So-called chill wave has often been a culprit. The redundancies and piercing electronics of bands like Washed Out and Neon Indian annoy more than sooth these ears. Then you have cutesy retro bands like Cults: more high-pitched convolutedness. I found myself hard-pressed to find a decent record last year due to all the self-indulgent, shallow noise hyped by the taste-makers.
Then, this year, a brilliant, refreshing aural experience came along in the form of Bloom by Baltimore-based Beach House. The band has long been recognized for its do-no-wrong dream pop, a genre of music that emerged in the late eighties thanks to bands as divergent as the ethereal Cocteau Twins to the noisy My Bloody Valentine. But even those pioneering bands’ records often felt difficult to endure all the way through. Beach House’s fourth album further proves it has the know-how to balance layered, driving sounds with stark, spare musical moments with a delicate touch.
Over two months ago, the band released “Myth” as a free stream and download on the Internet as a teaser to the new album. Singer/keyboardist Victoria Legrand called it a “gateway,” as it also opens the new album. A scratchy beat and the flat ding of a bell offers a deceptively simple opening for a few seconds until the trill of high-ranged keys on an organ, accompanied by Alex Scally’s equally athletic vibrato harmony on a steady-handed electric guitar, somersaults in to overtake the lead. Legrand’s voice joins in as the steady thud of Daniel Franz’ drums grow restless, pounding on in double time. With a booming, patient voice Legrand sings, “Drifting in and out/You see the road you’re on.” The second she sings the first note, a deep hum from the other end of an organ rumbles in accompaniment. Halfway through the song, Scally heralds a change in tone with the lethargic, resonant strum of his instrument like a wave blowing apart on the rocks of a craggy shore. Legrand sings strong and large with a slight echo effect decorating her voice turning the words only slightly unintelligible. Certain words are not completely clear, especially during the chorus. But that is the abstract charm of this record, begging the listener to fill in the gaps with his or her own hearing and interpretation. A few strums later, and the song returns to its driving form for a moment before closing out on ecstatic tremolo guitar work.
“Wild” seems to have a similar construct, but the distinctions are in the details. It opens with a mysterious hiss and hum that could be the processed howl of an organ or the wind across the surface of the ocean. A stuffy, tinny beat appears before a swell of cymbals heralds Scally’s guitar, driving along in cascading licks that chime with a brilliance many might have heard in a song by the Cure. Legrand’s singing is more obscured, which rolls along like the shimmer of pulsing, undulating waves on the surface of the sea. It ends once again with Scally’s tremolo on the higher-end of the fret board. Legrand’s organ offers more of an ambient, drone effect— humming and shimmering chords below the ecstatic work of Scally and the pounding, deep, relentless beat by Franz.
The third track, which already saw release as a 7-inch single for Record Store Day 2012, also arrives with a distinct, spare intro only to be coated in layers of luscious sounds. As a processed electronic pulse and melody is overtaken by swelling organ chords and the boom of Franz’ drum kit, Legrand’s voice finally does not even pretend to sing in English, just pulsing, soft sighs of “huhs.” It makes for another luscious moment, but this time missing Scally’s guitar for the first half of the song. However, his licks return as the song strips back its wall of organs, to bring back the canned electro opening, providing Scally space to offer a beautiful, if subdued gem of a moment on rolling, sliding guitar. “Like no other, you can’t be replaced,” Legrand sings repeatedly, as the song calmly heads towards its fade out.
Three songs in, and the album has only offered a dynamism and familiarity that brings comfort instead of inducing nausea. Beach House crafts songs with a patience and deliberation that highlights and celebrates the players’ talents without sacrificing the entirety of the experience. Bloom never seems to falter, offering one aural treat after another. “The Hours” features a standout hook: a duel between Legrand’s pulsing organ and Scally’s patient slide guitar. Thrown in here and there throughout the album are subtle field recordings. The distant sound of kids on the beach and whispers of “something” or nothing at all open “the Hours.” The sound of cicadas often heard in exterior scenes of Japanese movies appears to cap off “Troublemaker” before disappearing with an odd whistle to make way for the chiming guitar and sighing voices of “New Year.” These are genius little moments that break up the coldness of the interior of a studio or, worse, the zeros and ones of a computer file. Bloom is the sound of nature and the musicians clearly understand their humble roles as channels to the sublime power of music.
The crowning achievement arrives during the trio (or quartet?) of tracks that cap off the album. “Wishes” opens on a soft, spare beat, like many of Bloom’s tracks. The band layers on the melodies with patience: the swell of a high-pitched organ chord, the patter of a canned rhythm track, the noodle of keys, the loop of a guitar line. Chords from sighing organs build as the voices pile up and overlap. Even a masculine voice appears to harmonize for a bit. Scally’s guitar detours into a driving, Gothic hook, pauses a moment to allow Legrand space to sing the chorus and returns with a high-pitched tremolo. The song turns back to its driving layers of melody, and there is a distinct pause for silence after the fade out.
“On the Sea” takes the album into a maintained, spare melody unheard of in quality until now. It fades in like a light gradually illuminating the darkness. Only a ringing guitar and sprightly piano melody bound along as Legrand sings, “Out on the sea we’d be forgiven…” Franz offers a persistent thump on the bass drum like the click of a metronome. The only intricate rhythm is the persistent melody of piano and guitar. A minute in and Scally’s tremolo work breaks it down and another shimmering hum emerges subtly from the depths. The song becomes steadily ecstatic as the twirls of minimal, airy organs build like the persistent repetition of the music of Philip Glass. Legrand’s voice is almost operatic as the music swells and then eases back to the same, spare opening. It fades to give way to the rumble of what again sounds like the wind slicing across the surface of the sea.
The hiss continues as “Irene” starts forming on the swelling hum of what sounds like the deep rumble of a Farfisa or Harmonium organ. An old, canned scratchy beat appears as the minimalist pulse of a guitar persists in a dynamic pull and tug, as if waiting to explode only to recede again. There is a little climb to bright melody before a detour back to the minor-key tug-of-war of dynamics. “Irene” seems to expand and reduce in dynamics until the layers of melodies pause, allowing Scally to explore every stroke of his electric guitar. He repeats and repeats and repeats each stroke. Every lash is a growing mark of anticipation toward the edge of climax. “It’s a strange paradise,” sighs Legrand, as other layers of equally repetitive melodies emerge and coat each other, unfolding in a patient, droney jam session of swelling organs, intricate guitar lines and splashing crashes of cymbals. As the sound expands on each refrain with Scally’s vicious tremolo, Legrand slowly and rhythmically repeats: “It’s a strange paradise.” The band seems to delight in exploring a simple groove that grows more entrancing with each refrain. It grows over the final two-and-a-half minutes of the six-and-a-half minute song to peter off suddenly in one last quiver of tremolo that echoes away into a fade out.
The finale of “Irene” is so ecstatic that the band grants the listener seven minutes of silence before a little tape hiss arrives to apply the bandage after the aural gutting from such a din of ecstasy. A steady tap of a drum beat fades in, and the quiet quaver of guitar accompanied by the high-pitched pulse of an organ emerge. Legrand’s voice bounces rapidly from speaker to speaker in an enhanced stereophonic effect distinctive from the other songs on Bloom. This hidden track is spare but seems to come from another dimension. It offers a quiet moment of relief at the end of one of Beach House’s grandest accomplishments. It has been a couple of years since this listener has heard an album that offered as complete a listening experience as Bloom.
Finally, on the vinyl format of this album, I have yet to hear it, but Legrand mentioned recording a lot of the album to tape, and of course, the band did enter a proper studio (Sonic Ranch in Tornillo, Texas) to spend seven weeks recording Bloom. Audiophiles agree analog tape is the best source for analog vinyl. Sub Pop have promised to send a copy of the double vinyl soon, so expect this post to see an up-date after a spin on the home hi-fi. Edit: the up-date has been posted: Vinyl review: Beach House – ‘Bloom’
Miami area tie-in: Local Miami-based indie record shop Sweat Records will host “The Bloom Happy Hour Release Party,” on the album’s official release date, this Tuesday, May 15, from 5 to 7 p.m. They will offer complimentary drinks for those 21 and over whilst playing the CD in its entirety. Attendees can also expect special prizes from Sub Pop Records. (Note: Sub Pop supplied an advance copy of Bloom in early April for the purpose of this review and the linked interviews with Legrand).
Independent Ethos 