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Too Much Stuff- The Afterword reviews the Quietus’ Top 100 Albums

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Further to Lodestone of Wrongness’ thread on the Quietus’ Top 100 albums of the first half of 2016, I invite you to pick an album from this list and provide your fellow AWers with a review. It can be as short as a few lines or be a more in-depth critical analysis over several paragraphs – it’s entirely down to how much or little the music moves you, I suppose, or how much time/arsedness you can spare. You could even present it as a series of bullets points – the style you choose doesn’t matter. All I ask is that we refrain from sarcastic one-word reviews like “crap” or something, however strong the temptation.

The first step should be to post here which album (number, artist and title) you intend to listen to so that we don’t get too much overlap, although I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a couple of different perspectives on the same record. I suspect those available on streaming services will be the easiest, risk-free option.

Next, either post your review in this thread or do it as a Nights In if that’s what you feel like. There’s no time limit, so take as long as you want. Hopefully between us we’ll discover some decent new music we can dig/argue about. At the very least we’ll be able to say that we’ve heard of a few of the albums and artists on the list. Links in the comments.

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Comments

  2. @arthur-cowslip bravely kicked things off by choosing no. 43, WIDT – WIDT presumably at random as there’s no description in the article.

    I’ve gone for no. 86, Idris Ackamoor & The Pyramids – We Be All Africans, because it has a groovy cover from which I’m guessing the contents aren’t all bleeps and drones and that. Of course I could be wrong, and this could turn out to be a terrible mistake.

    What about you?

  3. Excellent idea. I choose Number 41, Thomas Cohen – Bloom Forever, because he looks like an absolute tosser and I’m prepared to have my prejudice challenged. Also it’s on Spotify so I don’t have to buy it. Give me a week.

  6. In for a penny …
    24: Gnod – Mirror

    Listening on Spotify now – it seems OK.
    I’ll get back to you …

    If I get time (and the inclination), I’ll knock out something for Fat White Family: Songs For Our Mothers (Number 9) too

  7. Oranssi Pazuzu for me please! Unless reviewing an album you already know is contrary to the spirit of the OP, in which case I’ll go for William Tyler, which I already had my eye on for a listen anyway.

  9. I wanted to go for #93 – Khunnt (phnarr phnarr) but am settling on #96 by ‘The Comet is Coming’ just because it’s a great name for a band. Wish me luck!!

    • You won’t need luck -it’s really good (unless crazy space jazz is not your thing). If memory serves, it was this very record that provoked Saucecraft to kick off the epic grumpathon in Tigger’s best albums of the year so far thread. A little bit of Afterword history right there, pop pickers.

  14. I’ll go for #33, whatever it is. Unless somebody’s already bagged it.

    “Underworld – Barbara Barbara, We Face a Shining Future”
    It’s on Spotify. 7 songs, 44mins.
    Will report back later.

    • Okay.
      Rather dark, doomy dance stylings here. No verses/choruses or songs as such. Chants and mutterings break surface. Unison voices at or towards climactic moments. Tension & release are the keywords.
      It leads off with “I Exhale” like a swaggering march into the unknown along a long dark tunnel. Determined progress falters a couple of times but a light and a horizon are seen ahead and chanted about. Longest track at 8 minutes-odd.
      Next up is “If Rah”. A sort of loping Bo Diddley beat. mutterings during this one include “you don’t look old enough to have suffered so much”, “how can you look so normal” & “people have to struggle”. Chants of “Luna, luna, luna” and “illuminate” at moments of tension.
      “Low Burn” sounded reminiscent of that ’80s gay disco clickety-clack train beat. Vocally seemed to be based around the notion of escaping. Orchestral horns/strings upping the tension at times.
      “Santiago Cuatro” – a floaty lowering of pressure. Spanish Moorish/Middle Eastern feel over bass drones. Still a groove for body movement.
      “Motorhome” – Twiddly keys over a purposeful plodding rhythm. Piano and more orchestral horns. Anthemic descending motif. Vocal chants warn to “keep away from the dark side”.
      “Ova Nova” – brought to mind a slightly jerky disco mirrorball, twinkling it’s shards of light about over a slowish disco beat.
      “Nylon Strung” – reminiscent of a syncopated take on “Blue Monday”. Tension increases until it emerges from the prevailing mood of darkness and releases into sunlight.

      Listened to twice now. A more enjoyable listen than I expected. Rather gloomy stuff for dancing to, I would have thought. No lyrical profundity to be found here. I’m unlikely to buy it but I may well give it a third listen.

  15. Can’t believe the review of Perdurance
    Aggressively antisocial music, systematically stripped of anything remotely enjoyable or expressive
    hasn’t whetted anyone’s appetite..

    • “The guitar tone has been forcibly sterilised, the drum machine reduced to a Casio click. Nothing is left but convulsion and abrasion, alienation and revulsion.” Oddly enough, was listening to the first track when I read this, attracted by this bouncy encomium.

      But really, there’s nothing more to be said.

  16. I’ll take number 80, Let’s Eat Grandma, I Gemini, mainly because I can’t tell which is artist and which is album title, so a review from me from a viewpoint of SHEER IGNORANCE will undeniably work…

    • I, Gemini are two teenage girls who have plainly heard an awful lot of Bjork and Kate Bush and whose favorite book, I suspect, is Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber. A lot of fairy tale imagery permeates these songs which teeter on the very edge of irksome without ever quite tipping over. Mainly for two reasons; the musical arrangements are extremely imaginative and while the vocals can be quite mannered the two of them actually produce some really fine harmonies. I doubt I Gemini have ever heard The Incredible String Band, but like them the arrangements are weird, the lyrics are odd, the instrumentation is not what you expect and the overall impression is of a private world which listeners get to peek into.

      I expected to hear dreadful hipster shit. I got a really pleasant surprise. Plus I have never heard a teenage girl rap about mushrooms in an English accent. I heartily recommend this, it’s really good.

      • You make it sound a lot more interesting than the snippets I sat through/heard. I just couldn’t get past the annoying vocals, so couldn’t appreciate the arrangements you describe, and never got as far as the shroom rapping.

        I, Gemini is definitely the name of the album though, not the band.

    • Blimey, I thought, this sounds like Antony and the Johnsons. Turns out that’s exactly who it is, except he’s now calling himself Anohni and wants us to think of her as a woman. Johnson(s) or no Johnson(s), it’s still the same old one-off Antony, however – symphonic, not to say operatic, stop-go pop with layers of sound and tricky electronic beats.

      Someone was asking the other day where all the protest songs had gone. Well, they’re all here. Tracks include ‘Drone Bomb Me’, ‘Execution’, ‘Obama’, ‘Violent Men’, Why Did You Separate Me from the Earth?’, ‘Hopelessness’ and ‘Marrow’. I’ve often felt like writing a protest song about marrows, but it’s the other sort (ie bone) he’s concerned with. It would be easy to take the piss if you were that way inclined, but the songs are deeply felt, passionate and angry.

      ‘Like the Chinese and the Saudis/The North Koreans and the Nigerians
      Execution/Execution/It’s an American dream’       (‘Execution’)

      ‘I wanna hear the dogs crying for water/I wanna see the fish go belly-up in the sea
      And all those lemurs and all those tiny creatures/I wanna see them burn, it’s only 4 degrees
      And all those rhinos and all those big mammals/I wanna see them lying, crying in the fields’       (‘4 Degrees)

      ‘Obama’ is an extraordinary, incantatory dirge of disappointment – if you listen to only one track, try this. Unlikely to be adopted by the Donald as his campaign song though, I feel.

      This album is unlikely to remain on heavy rotation for long, but I’m glad I listened to it, and which of us taking part in this exercise will be able to say that, eh?

          • I like some of it a big big lot, but a few tracks are shockingly awful, Obama being the main culprit, I fear. Anohni also crops up on the Day of the Dead trib LP in a more traditionally expected Anthony style. I wouldn’t agree Hopelessness is particularly similar otherwise, voice, of course, apart, as the electronica is so full on and, largely, pleasantly abrasive.

  18. I already own the Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith album (36), so I’m happy to write a short report on that, but I’ll choose something new for me as well, to make it more fun.
    I’ll take number 87 as well; I like the band name The Dwarfs of East Agouza!

  19. What brave people you are. I did a bit of trawling looking at the cover art and playing when one struck my fancy. I’m now beginning to think that I should resurrect my music career.

  21. Årabrot -The Gospel for tigs, then.

    Btw folks, you can be as creative as you like in the way that you review; it doesn’t necessarily have to be the written word. My fingers are crossed that tigger’s will take the form of a YouTube video of him expressing his opinion via a naked dance routine, and I’m fully expecting HP to submit one of his marker pen drawings. Or clip art.

    • Concise, pointed, and (based on one quick speculative listen) oh so true.

      Someone somewhere must like it – a collection of bleeps and and atmospheric musings delivered in a sub-Vincent Price style.
      Conjures up nothing for me

  23. I’ve already done a review of no 47, Gold Panda Do Your Best – which is great; the Wire album has also already been covered I think. i don’t think Radiohead really need further reviewing, so I’ll pick out enfants terribles Fat White Family with Songs for Our Mothers at no 9. @tiggerlion I’d also urge you to choose something a bit more leftfield too as Blackstar has been exhaustively discussed in many threads here. Come on mate – what about 7 Hardcore sounds from Tehran, sounds irresistible!

    Gold Panda – Good Luck and Do Your Best

  24. So that’s a possible two for Fat White Family (moseleymoles, and rigid digit who might do it as a second review). That’s probably enough for that one. This is exciting! I’m really looking forward to reading everyone’s contributions. And in tigger’s case, watching it 😉

      • Ha ha – I knew you would, so orderly. 77 it is .

        A mate of mine once said- why think if you can ask somebody else.

        Another classic was I’ve got friends I haven’t used yet.

  28. I’ll play. By dint’t of getting the last 2 digits of the square root of some random nunber, I have come up with 26. Which is “Peder Mannerfelt – Controlling Body”. Which is on Spotify.

    I am listening to it now. 5 minutes after hearing about it for the first time in my life, a fact that never ceases to amaze me. I can’t promise six listens but will try my best to get through one.

    Good idea, min. Stand by for my review!

  31. In my role as AGOG (Afterword Grumpy Old Git), here’s my review of everything on the list: not only is it directly derivative of music produced in rock, pop n’ roll’s Golden Decade (65-75), it’s nowhere near as good. In fact – and I don’t need to hear any of it to speak with some authority on the matter – it’s FUCKING SHITE.

    There.

    • Hey! You’re self appointed, dude. I’m just as fucking grumpy, just not as Oldsville.
      Anyway (sigh – blows aromatic jazz ring) /\ Have an UP man /\ UP UP UP /\ Stick it to the greedhead recycled-safe-as-baby-wipes-corporate-product-rock-gimps. Yeah Dig.

    • H.P. Has already written his review.

      19. Matmos – Ultimate Care II

      This is (it says here) the new album from “renowned conceptual electronics duo” Matmos; Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt.

      Renowned they may be, conceptual they certainly are. This is a continuous, thirty-eight minute collage of sampled sounds from the washing machine in their basement. Reading the text, then, you might be put off, thinking it to be nothing but art-wank of little or no musical consequence. I was prepared to give it a good kicking. But I’m absolutely hooked by it. This is art-wank of surprising musical consequence. Some of it sounds almost old-school analogue synth, some of it has cavernous and pummeling beats. Some of it sounds like Jetsons soundtracks. A lot of it is pretty damn funny, like Goon Show effects. I think you’d be giggling like a fool listening to it on medically-prescribed rhythm cigarettes. Or better, acid. How I wish I had some more of that. Actually, a lot of this is like the brain music you hear/see on acid. But don’t let that put you off, either, because what this is, right, what this is, against all the odds, right, is fantastically entertaining. It’s very composed, too, this is isn’t random art-wank, it’s thematic art-wank, with real dynamics and mood changes. Musical.

      Back when Pink Floyd still made albums you wanted to be seen carrying into the uni bar, they mooted plans to make an album of music made entirely by household objects. This isn’t the Ron Geesin soundtrack The Body I’m talking about, this is the aborted album called Household Sounds or whatever. So there’s nothing new under the sun, as the saying goes. But I don’t think I’ll ever hear a better album made by a washing machine and a couple of art-wank conceptualists in a basement.

      I want to hear what they’d do with an expresso machine.

  32. OK then – I’m ready to review number 87; The Dwarfs of East Agouza – Bes.

    This album is one hour and sixteen minutes of North African free jazz fusion noise therapy, or whatever you want to call it…it has its moments of sublime rhythms and melodies, and it has its Guantanamo Bay style musical torture moments as well.
    The first two tracks are great. Baka of the Future has a hypnotic beat with a melody on top sounding not unlike a lonesome cowboy riding his mule through the desert while playing harmonica under a sky of stars (backed by a drunk Talking Heads in the wagon behind him). Except it isn’t a harmonica of course, probably some kind of exotic Egyptian type oboe (sorry, haven’t got a clue!) Some crude twanging, funky bass and bursts of organ later, this rather funky and jazzy mantra ends after 9:38 minutes.
    Clean Shahin is only 6:57 long, in which drums are slapped, a triangle chimes occasionally and the build-up of a slow, irresistible rhythm makes you move your hips. A simple but beautiful melody repeats itself over and over and the track builds to a Bolero-like crescendo, subtly increasing in intensity. By the end you’re thinking about taking a course in belly dancing.
    Then it gets a bit hairy on track three, the quite dissonant and ugly Where’s Turbo, clocking in at a whopping 16:10 minutes! “Interesting” is the kindest thing I can say about it, sounds mostly like a batlle between out of tune instruments to me (even if it did sound better by the third listen – yes, I managed three listens before I got a headache).
    The next track; Hungry Bears Don’t Dance is a welcome rest after that one, even though it isn’t very good either. It sounds very improvised, very monotone and unmelodic for the most part, but half-way through it improves melodically. A bit weird, but only 4:31 long!
    Track five is called Resinance and is actually good enough for me to be disappointed when it ends after a mere 3:59! Starts with a murky intro, but a strong drum pattern marches in and trailing behind it is a ragged army of bass, guitar and assorted exotic noisemakers, walking proudly in a street parade through town. Too bad it’s such a small town then.
    Tracks 6, 7 and 8 are called Museum of Stranglers, Parts I, II and III. These are 13:59/12:45/8:17 long respectively, and tried my patience a fair bit.
    Part one is some serious free form honking on top of stringed instruments seemingly improvising in a bleak manner. After a while the free form honking gets more traditionally Egyptian in flavour, before, unfortunately, going back to the more atonal style. I find myself sighing with relief when the normally annoying Spotify commercial spot pops up before Part two!
    In Part two, the skronking and honking gets funkier, but it’s still skronk and honk…only the percussions saves it from being completely horrible, until about 2:40 into the track when it turns into pure torture, first just a lot of noise (no rhythms, no melodies), then some ghostly wailing over tinkling sounds, going on forever!
    Part three, coming after the assault of Parts one and two, is practically balm for my ears, if not a track I especially long to hear again. Very repetitive…

    All in all I’d say that the first listen was the worst, as I was doing nothing else than listening carefully and writing down what I heard. The second and third time I had it on as background music (but still through headphones) while doing other stuff at the same time, and I liked it a lot better then (or perhaps I should say that it didn’t get on my nerves as much when I listened to it that way). Is it the 87th best album of the first half of 2016? Well, out of the 72 new albums I’ve heard, it certainly is! 🙂

  33. And here’s a (shorter) review of the Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith album Ears (number 36)which I already had:

    This is an album of experimental, mostly electronical, music. The tracks aren’t “tunes” in the traditional pop sense, they are soundscapes built by adding and subtracting lots of instrumental loops and adding her voice; sometimes playing the part of an instrument, sometimes in a more traditional singing role.
    If you enjoyed Julia Holter before she became more mainstream or enjoy soundtracks of a more electronic kind, you’ll probably enjoy this album. I especially like using this kind of music precisely as a soundtrack to for instance a long bus- or train journey, enjoying the soundscapes in my headphones merging with the landscapes outside the window.

  35. And at number 91 in The Quietus 2016 Top 100 (Jan to Jun) we have:

    Forteresse – ThĂšmes Pour La RĂ©bellion

    First the cover – Burning buildings, the blackletter font, rebellious themes, this was never going to be an airy pastoral work, but before diving in I did a short search to track down the genre at least. We have Black Metal of the French Canadian variety apparently, although YouTube describes it as Atmospheric Black Metal. Hmm, intriguing.

    Having not expected to make it past the first minute I’ve managed to give this two listens on YouTube via headphones. A concept album, as prompted by the opening title ‘Aube de 1837’, its eight tracks relate to the 1837 Canadian Rebellion (thanks Wikipedia). The first 45 seconds carries the muffled sound effects of a riot before a door opens and wall of high speed drumming and strumming overlaid with coarse growling vocals assaults the ears. Think of the opening bars of Arctic Monkeys’ Brianstorm but twice a fast and sustained for the next five and a half minutes. Actually no, make that the next thirty-seven minutes. Unfortunately, the vocals are set so low in the mix that I genuinely haven’t a clue what they were saying or indeed which language, “JE L’AI DIT, JE PEUX AVOIR UN AUTRE COUP D’ EXPRESSO DANS CE LATTE SKINNY S’IL VOUS PLAÎT?” potentially??

    Track three, ‘LĂ  oĂč nous allons’, continues in the same vein but does have a hint of tune and a guitar style that could be the bastard child of Big Country and an over-driven bouzouki. I think you can see where this is heading – and I quite like it. Cue sound effects of howling wind (Floyd, One of These Days). And 
 normal service is resumed ie everything being played as fast as possible with no perceptible time changes or pauses for dramatic effect. Track 4, ‘Par la bouche de mes canons’ does however see the vocal rise in pitch a little and includes a spoken section (definitely French).

    It must be said at this point that the stamina of this band must be immense and I’m visualising a bandy legged drummer with the upper torso of a sumo wrestler, a guitarist with a heavily over-developed right arm and a bassist with a thumb, middle and forefinger the size of a milking stool.

    I digress, unlike the next three tracks which plough a similar high energy sonic and rhythmic vein as the preceding ones. Lovers of variation and the unexpected need not trouble themselves with this album. However, I can see the appeal for a certain demographic – probably but not exclusively, adolescent males with acne and an aversion to shampoo (strewth, I sound like my dad). That said, I can imagine the live experience of Forteresse being quite invigorating for the first ten minutes before the realisation that an hour and a half of this is likely to cause physical damage.

    By the final track ‘Le Dernier Voyage’, they’ve clearly run out of caffeine as it all slows down and we have plinky piano, wistful sound effects, floaty Floyd-like guitar, heavy breathing and vocal harmony.

    All things considered, this wasn’t as bad as I was expecting and track three sort of had something even if it was as atmospheric as a knackered fifty year old diesel at full revs in closed garage. Would I buy it? No, of course not, but it’s the sort of album that would appear on my nephew’s Christmas list and in which case I’d have no problem shelling out.

    • I’ve given this one a listen now as well. It’s good as far as it goes, but as @Phil_Pirrip ‘s review says, it’s very one dimensional. One of those records that I would enjoy ten or fifteen minutes of before getting a bit bored. It wouldn’t particularly matter what ten or fifteen minutes either, just put the needle down wherever you like and I’ll be good.

  37. William Tyler – Modern Country

    No 85 on the Quietus’ 2016 Top 100

    Given that Tyler is from Nashville and the album has ‘Country’ in the title you might be expecting some songs about how his dog died and his woman done him wrong. Since ‘Modern’ is in the title too, maybe there’ll be some 21st century twists on the genre, like a Google car ran over his dog and his woman unfriended him on Facebook?

    If you were expecting any of those things I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. This is a purely instrumental album, it only has seven tracks but some of them are of fairly epic length – over nine minutes for the opener ‘Highway Anxiety’, I think I may have been on that road.

    I’ve listened to this twice on Spotify over the course of the afternoon and given a couple of tracks an extra play for good measure. The opening track is the longest, so the album is asking for your commitment from the start. It kicks off with some inoffensive acoustic guitar, the rhythm section comes in after about three minutes, by six minutes you feel as though he’s just getting into his stride, but then it begins to wind down again.

    As you progress through tracks like ‘I’m Gonna Live Forever (If It Kills Me)’ and ‘Albion Moonlight’ you’ll find a more upbeat, and more traditionally country feel with some nice, twangy guitar sounds and hints of bluegrass and folk.

    On the final track, ‘The Great Unwind’, Tyler goes electric and there are distinct echoes of Mark Knopfler in the guitar work. In the middle the music fades out to be replaced by 30 seconds of bird song and when it comes back it’s almost like listening to a different track.

    There’s undoubted instrumental skill and strong production values at work here, and some tracks have quite catchy hooks. The album is, apparently, about the loss of the American ideal and the music does have a sense of openness and scale. However, the tracks always seem to leave you wanting more, it’s like listening to a collection of intros in search of songs.

    I used the word ‘inoffensive’ further up the page and that pretty much sums up what Modern Country is. You can stick it on in the background while you’re working and enjoy it without having to really engage with it. Would I choose to sit down and listen to it for its own sake? No.

  38. And here it is…

    Wolf Muller and Cass – “The sound of glades”.

    The opening title track is a new agey swirly keyboard pad thing with jungle noises and random clicks of percussion. Slightly surreal, as I spent the last two days with Mrs. T at a spa hotel and had an aromatherapy massage which was accompanied by music exactly like this. I kept expecting a quiet voice to ask me to turn over or whether I’d like the Fire Oil. 10 minutes in, a more rhythmic thing starts up though its repetition only adds to the torpor rather than beefing things up a bit. Right at the end a chorus of Clangers start singing. Oooooo ooooo ooo, they go. There’s 16 minutes of this. The second track is, ummm, very similar. Sort of damp smacking noises over a booooooom type pad and temple bells stuff. You know the sound track for the first version of Lara Croft? Like that.

    WAIT
.what’s this
instruments! A little new agey/folky pentatonic riff emerges through the foliage. On “Aiolos” there’s a loop of congas and a kind of out of tune percussion thing going on over a bass groove which could easily have been on an “Atom Heart Mother” Floyd out take. Except they would have felt the urge to change chords at some point
no need for such complexity here. Wow
a Gilmour like lead guitar has popped up
this track sounds all together more purposeful. At one point it even has a groove.

    Mmm, I’m getting the idea here. The next track has, you guessed it, keyboard pads, congas loops, jungle noises and Clangers singing again. Mmmm. Spa hotels the world over should order now. There’s a kind of jaws harp thing they keep using which goes boooooing across the stereo spectrum. Faaaar out maaan.

    Time drifts by. I’m gazing vacantly out of the window.

    The final track starts with a boom, and new ground being broken – over the keyboard pads, jungle noises and congas, someone has decided, variety being the spice of life, a few clacks from some claves would be good. And why not! A Floydy melody breaks over the ooooh ooooh, Jungle noises, click clack
and
it’s over.

    Not an unpleasant listen – rather like listening to mid period Pink Floyd out takes on ear buds whilst walking though one of those pseudo outdoor shops which sell incense, “trekking” impedimenta and carved nick nacks for the garden to piped “ethnic” music next to a particularly noisy water feature. Got it – music for garden centre shops.

  39. Well here goes, not as long as the above but………

    No 46 Chairlift – Moth

    Chairlift are a duo comprising Caroline Polachek and Patrick Wimberly, who could be described as Synthpop. The cover is a rather beautiful painting of surprise surprise a Moth.

    It starts with Look Up and Polymorphing both forgettable nu-pop but pleasant enough, Romeo is much the same and Ch-Ching is just not very good. Things look up with Crying in Public which lovely but Ottowa to Osaka is the best track on the record, less of a groove, less ‘perfect’ which makes it a much better listen. It’s a shame that the rest tails off into much of a muchness.

    Except for a couple of tracks this isn’t for me, a bit too modern chart pop for my liking. Nothing wrong with that of course but it doesn’t stir my blood.

  40. They’re coming in thick and fast now! Isn’t this GREAT? I’m much more likely to investigate some of this stuff now it’s been reviewed and described by the AW Massive. And even if I don’t, it’s fantastic to have a light shone on it in this way.

    (I am slightly tipsy, sorry. But isn’t it fab!!!!)

  42. Number 24: Gnod – Mirror
    3 tracks recorded in 3 days (or so my research tells me) and clocking in at around 35 minutes.

    It starts with a crash sounding like (in old money) you’ve dropped the needle to far in.
    A monotonous bass kicks in with a simple hi-hat and drum rhythm behind. There is a spoken vocal sounding sort of like PiL meets a posh Sleaford Mods. The middle section is a free-for-all cacophony of splintered guitars, whilst the bass and drums remain solid. It rises to an almost atonal competition for volume.
    This album might actually be OK, but that vocal is becoming annoying.
    And then track 2 starts …
    Second track starts sprightly enough, with an incessant distorted guitar,but then plods along and never really goes anywhere.
    This is dark and almost suffocating – the vocals sound pained, and there is a black metal edge to the whole thing. One can’t help feel that someone nicked the tune and replaced it with a barrel full of noise and said “just shout over that, and play whatever you like”.
    And this continues for 8 minutes with no let up.
    Either I’m getting older, or I’m missing the point, or this is just noise.
    Final track is 18 minutes long. It starts fairly quietly rising to a single drone with added Gregorian chanting. The Black Metal affectation is back following a spoken word warning that “Escape is now deafening”. Its all very hypnotic, but really needs to go somewhere because 18 minutes of this is just too much. It does go quieter in the middle, and the chanting returns, but still continues on one level and never retains my interest.
    The final run of this track sounds remarkably like a descent into madness, with the last minute or so being a complete wall of noise and feedback.
    Would I buy it? If I wanted something to really annoy the wife and kids on a Sunday morning, this would probably do it.
    Is my life enriched by this album? – not really, maybe 20 odd years ago when I actually listened to stuff like this I may have found more merit, but right now – nah, not for me.

    Shame really, the opening track sounded promising, but this was soon kicked into touch for my ears.
    The Spotify version has a fourth track – a remix of opening track The Mirror – I don’t know if tracks 2 and 3 killed something in my ears (or brain, or both) but I can’t notice what’s so different about it.

  44. Well tempted as I am by Chris Watson’s field recordings of insects in the Borneo jungle, I’ll leave that for some other lucky soul and plump for Maja Ratke’s Crepuscular Hour, in at number 82. I’m a sucker for liminal cracks and spiritual gloaming, me. I may be some time…..

  47. This is a great thread, mini – a real encouragement to try and share new music. I listened to tracks from all the albums not ‘taken’ by other Afterworders and decided I liked the following 10 enough to want to listen to more by them (listed in Quietus order). For now, I made (very) superficial notes, but I’d say the Floorplan one sounded the most enjoyable.

    8 Julianna Barwick – Will (soaring chiming ambient)
    11 Puce Mary – The Spiral (interesting noisescapes)
    13 Wolfgang Buttress & Bees – Be One (bee-autiful piano, cello and violin sounds)
    18 Daniel Patrick Quinn – I, Sun (entertaining soundscapes with spoken word samples)
    25 Chance The Rapper – Coloring Book (fun rap)
    42 Susanna – Triangle (magical orchestra woman – crystal clear voice)
    50 Steve Gunn – Eyes To The Lines (nice, Luna-style guitar lines)
    51 Floorplan – Victorious (glorious house)
    67 Elza Soares – The Woman At The End Of The World (powerful 79 year old)
    71 Ulver – ATGCLVLSSCAP (interesting rhythmic jam)

      • Hi @minibreakfast! Yes, I think you can – but not immediately. I started listening to the Floorplan album, but wasn’t as ‘gripped’ as I had originally thought. I’m a bit busy right now, but I will endeavour to offer up something – might take a week or two. Reading other reviews, I wouldn’t be able to provide anything as well-referenced or knowledgeable of musical technique, but I will do my best.

        • ok – First One – Floorplan. I think the song I heard which turned me on to this album wasn’t really representative. The album’s mainly four to the floor(is that the right description of thunk thunk thunk thunk techno?) repetitive beats with stuff thrown into the mix occasionally, building or not to a climax. As a ‘break’ from that, there’s some religious quotes thrown into some tracks – “The Heavens and the Earth” and “He Can Save You”, which are a little tiresome in an even worse than Faithless way.

          To save you time, I’d suggest just listening to just the one track –

          the fabulous ‘Tell You No Lie”, which sends you back to a glitterball sparkling disco dancefloor, complete with lush keening vocals – good times guaranteed

          The rest don’t really come close to the pleasure this one track gives.

  48. moogmemory/Matthew Bourne: OK, it isn’t the ballet man, it’s a previous recipient of a Jazz musician of the year, albeit in the Times left field category, but I had never heard of him bar a vague reference to his piano piece the Montauk Variations. He also has played at Hannah’s saturday lunchtime gigs at the Union Chapel, perhaps even the one Mike H reviewed recently. But I’m glad of this little (mini?) wheeze as it has introduced me to him. I’ve even bought the CD from his website. It is all analogue synth, it is usually slow, often repetitive and very soothing, bar the odd burst of measured discordancy. If you are an aficionado of Phillip Glass, Olafur Arnalds, all that interface stuff between electro, minimalism and chamber jazz, this will be just what you need. I listened to it in the bath, and nearly drifted off, but in a good way, ambient background noise: the dustbin lorry, a hairdryer, a police siren, strangely blending in without knowledge. Hell, at one stage I was thinking some birdsong would be good alongside it, particularly as one long track (‘On Rivock Edge’) had me thinking that bit in ‘Echoes’/Pink Floyd, where it slowly builds from cawing crows. Wonderful. Is it rock? Is it roll? Neither. Is it pretentious? No, not even if describing it becomes essentially so, but it has a delicate simplicity that will bear many a return visit. Thanks for the invite and the opportunity.

  49. No 37: Cat’s Eyes – Treasure House
    In contrast, it would appear, to a lot of the albums on this list, Cat’s Eyes’ music aspires to neat melodic songs with singing and words and everything. For the most part these tunes are simple, understated, kinda folky and enlivened by pleasant arrangements of strings, multi vocals, piano and brass. This record reminds me very much of actual album of the year contender Prospect Of Skelmersdale by The Magnetic North, although it lacks TMNs pop chops. Singer Rachel Zeffira’s delivery further reminds me of the late Trish Keenan of Broadcast. Although the majority of the album has much the same vibe, two songs in the middle – the girl group strut of Be Careful Where You Park Your Car and the surely-this-is-a-different-band-and-my-stereo’s-on-the-blink Standoff break things up before what, at the moment, is my favourite here, the lovely Everything Moves Towards The Sun arrives to restore the spell.
    Overall (and after only a few listens) I like this and will be playing it again.
    Would I buy it? Yes, because it’s only a fiver on Emusic. But then, I already have Prospect Of Skelmersdale – if I were you I’d buy that first..
    *In case anyone cares I previously reviewed no 25 Chance The Rapper’s Coloring Book in Nights In..

  50. Apparently the current no. 1 in the pop chart (pop chart in 2016? who knew?) is about to break the record for weeks at no. 1.
    If anyone can find it, why not review that?

  51. 1. Årabrot – The Gospel

    The Gospel opens with a recording of an army platoon being brought to order. Then, a low-slung bass kicks in. “Oh good,” I thought, “this is going to be a re-enactment of the battle of the Somme by pitching drone metal against industrial rock.” The bass is suitably earth-shattering and the drums are thunderous. My guess is that the drum kit consists of two enormous kick drums and several over-sized floor toms, pounded by mallets. Guitars and synthesisers merely add texture, a thick, horny texture but nothing to really hurt the ears. There are no solos as such. Instrumental breaks are a series of stabbings or they simply throb. There is some light relief in samples of San Fransiscan monks and an air-raid siren.

    Årabrot are actually quite mild mannered. There is little swearing and no real gore. We are spared screeching vocals until the latter half of the album and they only feature twice. At one point, the singer apologies for making such a noise, but then, he is ‘going to the grave.’ It’s hard work discerning the lyrics through the density of sound but God, cradles, graves, executions, suicide, the smell of death, funeral pyres all feature, much as you would expect from this style of music.

    Writing lyrics in a second language throws up some quirks, for example, the repeated refrain from I Am The Sun, “Suicide, hing by garters, they dropped a bag of heads. Suicide, hung by garters, infants sucking tears” is bewildering. It took me three listens to realise he was singing the word ‘pain’ in the longest, most drone-like piece, Faustus, because he pronounces both vowels, as in ‘pah-inn’.

    I thought I detected the kernel of a melody in track three of ten, Tall Man, but I was mistaken. The closing number, Rebbeka (Tragoedie) is almost a radio-friendly song, except for the fact that the subject is thrown off a cliff.

    In the end I was disappointed. This is no re-enactment of the battle of the Somme. In fact, it is basic, standard fare for this genre of music (some kind of subset of noise rock, just don’t ask me which). After the opening bars of the first track, I knew exactly what was coming. I’m not entirely averse to noise rock and it is well executed but without the panache of the likes of Swans and Sun O))). The only shock was that it was all over in forty minutes.

    The wise people at Quietus rank this as the best album of the year so far. They are being ridiculous. The Gospel lacks the imagination, the creativity, the artistry, the musicianship and the surprises that are the hallmarks of Blackstar. Shame on them.

    • After writing my review, I read Quietus’s. It turns out that Årabrot are Norwegian (I might have guessed). The lead singer has just recovered from surgery for throat cancer. The Quietus are impressed that The Gospel is a frank documentation of a battle with cancer and a brush with death. I reckon his lyrics may be sharper but otherwise feature the usual sort of imagery.

  52. Some great reviews continuing to come in – you’re all making me feel very lazy! I’ve been titting about on the car boot blog today, so haven’t started mine yet. It’ll get done next week, I promise.

  53. I chose “Our Solar System – In Time” for review because (apart from Bowie) it was only one on the Quietus list that I had heard before.

    Our Solar System, according to their Facebook page, are Swedish and their genre is bigband, freeform, psychedelic, folk-doom, dream-beat. I don’t know what that means. According to their label Beyond Beyond is Beyond they compare with Alice Coltrane, Parsson Sound, Sigur Ros, Can and early Pink Floyd, I’m not sure that helps me much either.
    My own description would be space rock, krautrock (kosmische), psychedelic with some jazz thrown in.

    There are two long tracks on “In Time”, the first “In the Beginning of Time” is 20:26 long, the second “At the Edge of Time” clocks in at 23:13. The first track is instrumental, the second has some vocals but they are more like additional instrumentation.

    “In the Beginning of Time” starts with solo sax with some atmospheric sounds coming in followed by the bass line.
    After 2 minutes the drums comes in then later on a piano/keyboard takes over from the sax which returns later.
    The music gradually speeds up and includes some hand clapping, and after 9 and a half minutes the sax returns to take the lead, the track speeds up some more and then we have a jazzy sax freakout. The track is really steaming by now and after 12 minutes the drums and guitars kick in (a bit early Hawkwind to me which is no bad thing).
    Later on the piano returns with driving bass and drums and the track reaches a crescendo and then eases off and finally quietens.
    I was left thinking that I had been taken on a fantastic musical trip that kept my attention for the full 20 minutes.
    I don’t really like jazz but I liked this freakout immensely.

    “At the Edge of Time” has a quiet start but this time with the piano/keyboard and effects to the fore before bass and drums and then guitar come in.
    The addition of vocals after two and a half minutes is like an extra instrument has been added into the mix.
    Like the first track the music slowly builds up until the 11 minute mark when the music quietens and changes.
    I think the second half of “Edge of Time” is really a different track, it is slower and consists mainly of bass, percussion and atmospheric sounds but doesn’t grab my attention as much.
    Maybe the album is just too long for one sitting or I have a short attention span but my mind did start drifting.

    Overall I enjoyed the album, particularly the first track. The second track has its moments but doesn’t achieve the heights of the first, and the second half of it was too long for me.

  54. Great post which could end up costing me money. As no one seems to hav claimed the Waclaw Zimpel I will try to put a short review together as it is one of the few that I have heard, ironically as a result of the review in the Quietus. And by the way – spoiler alert- it’s terrific

  56. Just back home after a week away in the stiflingly hot Dordogne (do these people ever tire of duck?) so my review of Rory Taylor is still some days away. In the meantime – you all really, really want to write for Quietus, don’t you? I wish you did, I wish you did….

  57. Grandfeathered by Pinkshinyultrablast

    I made a good choice. Enjoyable if a little derivative. Shoe gazey, MBV, Cocteaus. Radiohead drum patterns, irregular song structures. Superchunk – yes, Superchunk! Sigur Ros. Big Country!
    Layers of grungy guitar, unremarkable choirgirl ‘voice as instrument’ – due to language or pitch? Like ethereal chords pitched on top of the music but blandly angelic. Playful bass provides the melody beneath the layers. Shimmering repetition, wind chimes among the crunching feed-back.
    They look like bunch of Geography students on a field trip. Russian apparently. Five piece. Lauren Laverne in some pics. On Spotify.
    Intro (Initial) is misleading – electronica – Chvrches perhaps. Looped vocals drum machine, synths cycle. At 3.52 it’s the shortest track. Glow Vastly introduces the five minutes plus wall of sound that’s more typical of this record.
    The sleeve is a lifeless still life, spilt vase, water you could peel, all surface, no texture. The band logo a 1980s style illustration of a road leading straight ahead – possibly off a cliff – beneath a starry sky. The artwork as critic. The music deserves better.
    Poppy, jaunty, electronic blips and blops. Single, The Cherry Pit has National guitar chords – possibly the most accessible song here. A little Afropop influence in rhythm and guitar chime of closing (title) track and I Catch You Napping?
    A lot of big epic endings. One-louder, extended climaxes. Repeated plays reveals little hooks and melodies, drops and time shifts … but haven’t I just played this one?

  58. Widt
    by Widt

    Apologies for the delay. The reason for the delay, I think, is because this record is so forgettable. So I forgot about it, a few times.

    It’s two ladies. One makes abstract video displays that look like the Stargate from 2001. The other makes abstract pulsating synth noises and wordless vocal loops…. that sound like the Stargate from 2001.

    So it all kind of feels like the Stargate from 2001.

    I don’t deny it must be fun to make and perform. But the lack of any discernable theme, or pattern, or point, makes it all seem very ‘safe’: easy to ‘get’ and difficult to love.

    I don’t mind avant-garde, atonal music. In small doses. And with a bit of musicianship.

    This just seemed formless and empty.

  60. Thomas Cohen
    Bloom Forever

    Does our knowledge of an artist affect our enjoyment of their art? I only ask because I googled a bit about Thomas Cohen before listening to his album, and he really is a prize knob. Roaming the pages of Okay and Hello! dressed as a character Sasha Baron Cohen would reject for being too ridiculous, Thomas hangs out with the kind of metropolitan elite Bouji micro-celebs whose rich daddies mean they have never had to rob or turn tricks to fund their expensive drug habits. The album’s title comes from the middle names of his second child, Phaedra Bloom Forever Cohen. I mean, come on now. I immediately resolved to dislike it immensely.

    But hold on. He was also the husband of Peaches Geldof. A father of two and widower at 23; imagine that. Imagine living a line like ‘She’d turned so cold/Why weren’t her eyes covered and closed,’ as he sings on Country Home. Has my impression of his music changed already, even though I haven’t heard it yet? Let’s find out.

    So I drop the needle, lie back and close my eyes. From track one, Honeymoon, Bloom Forever comes across as a hymn to heroin. Most of the tracks have a deep sleepy drag with just enough nervy nagging from the drums and sax to prevent them totally blissing out. The lyrics are heartfelt but the vocals halfhearted, simultaneously aware of the awful things he’s been through, yet numb to them. Titles like Ain’t Gonna Be No Rain and New Morning Comes suggest catharsis but the sound is more narcosis.

    You know what? I really like it. The Floyd-y slowness is perfect for a summer evening with nothing more stimulating than a beer and a sunset, and while Thomas’ public persona may be knobbish he turns out to be quite the writer when he’s out of the limelight. So to answer my initial question, yes, our image of the artist does affect our appreciation of their art, but in this case it shouldn’t.

    • It does have a narcotic hazy shimmery feel to it, but it’s very pleasantly melodic throughout too, with a decent amount of variation between songs. I do wish his voice was a bit better, less nasal, but it doesn’t detract that much really. Like Neil Tennant with a better vocal range. Sensibly not too high in the mix.
      A pretty good album. Worth a few more listens. Thumbs up.

  61. Chris Abrahams : Fluid to the influence .# 77

    Chris Abrahams was in a Sydney indie pop band in the 80s, Played with singer Melanie Oxley, I’ve seen playing keys with Ed Kuepper and for sometime now he is a part of the improvisational combo ther Necks.

    I didn’t know what to expect when I nominated this as I haven’t checked out his previous solo albums of which there are quite a few. It comes under the category electronica or musique concrete a term new to me but I guess not to others:
    musique concrĂšte
    mjuːˌziːk kɒ̃ˈkrɛt/
    noun: musique concrĂšte
    music constructed by mixing recorded sounds, first developed by experimental composers in the 1940s

    The album opens with a track called one litre cold tap ( all the track names are quirky) :space-like chimes and beeps which evolve into assorted rustling and rattling. Not tuneful at all.

    He follows with some nice meandering piano. I kept being reminded of the classic motif played on Keith Jarrett’s Koln concert but unlike that long track the long tracks of the Necks these are all quite short and varied. However, unlike the Necks, who will find a rhythm, a melody , a groove and explore it inside out before moving on to what evolves out of that, a lot of this seems like short attention noodling.

    Sounds like a koto with various scrapings coming in on track 3.

    The middle tracks are great as are their titles : Clung Eloquent, Trumpets of Bindweed and The Stones Continued Intermittently. Assorted electronic mixed with keys and the occasional wash of rustling, whirring ,possibly a storm, mixed down in the mix and the use of single sustained notes on the piano on TSCI stopped me from analysing and had me just listening.

    Second and third listens I liked it more, especially by skipping track 1 on subsequent listens. I’m not sure whether the record is better listened to intensely or washing over you as you do something else.

    Here is TSCI

  63. This thread has been a fascinating insight into the cutting edge of modern music. Thank you all.

    I think I’ve had enough modernity now, though. Cocoa, slippers and Stevie Wonder’s ‘Innervisions’ for me now.

  64. No. 86, Idris Ackamoor & the Pyramids – We Be All Africans

    A quick look at his his Wiki bio reveals Idris Ackamoor not to be one of those pesky Pitchfork-bothering millennials as I’d assumed, but a veteran of the 1970s Afro-jazz scene, he and his Pyramids having broken up mid-decade and reformed some 30 years later. The album begins with plinky-plonky strings, rattling percussion and a repeated chant of the title, followed by male and female vocals trading lines. The 2nd minute brings jazzy sax; this must be Ackamoor himself, and there’s a strong similarity to Fela Kuti overall. I only own three Kuti tracks on which to base this comparison, although this does add up to 71 minutes of music. Ackamoor and co. don’t quite go to these lengths, and this, like most tracks here, is around 6 minutes long.

    Epiphany features a smoother brand of sax playing, with clip-clops and shakers for percussion, as well as the occasional bit where a drum kit gently falls over. It’s like pleasant background music only more interesting, and circulates for 7 minutes or so. Silent Days starts with wobbly electronic sounds before turning into something that on first listen doesn’t sound much different from Epiphany, except for vocals, then some woodwind and shuffling drums in the 2nd half. It made me want to turn my head at the end and say “Nice” to a make-believe cameraman.

    The best track is next. Rhapsody In Berlin is properly funky, and hits a groove to make you move. Pleasantly discordant sax is joined by tinkling and yelping, until the addition of violin really livens things up. It’s definitely worth downloading from their Bandcamp page if you don’t fancy the whole record. Not quite so much Clarion Calls, which sounds like a warm-up or what I suspect ‘free jazz’ sounds like. Although it’s formless I found myself enjoying it more on subsequent listens, despite the lack of melody or even groove to latch onto. There’s a fair amount of ‘distressed-baby-elephant’ skronking though, so steer clear if this doesn’t sound like your cuppa.

    Traponga begins with a burst of male a cappella, followed by some drum rolls and then what threatens to be a drum solo. Luckily some other, quite funky percussion joins in before it all stutters to a halt after a couple of minutes. After a hectic intro, seventh and final track Whispering Tenderness with its smoky female vocals, electric piano, brass and tinkling chimes has a lovely sleepy vibe, and brings the album to a close after just 37 minutes. I really enjoyed it, and am quite tempted by the very reasonably priced vinly version that can be found on the Bandcamp page along with the CD and download. Also tempting is a 2-disc collection of he and the Pyramids’ 70s material, sadly not on Spotify.

    Bandcamp page: https://idrisackamoor.bandcamp.com/album/we-be-all-africans

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrkvgdtA8TE

  65. Number 82 Maja Ratke Creouscular Hour

    Maja Ratke is, apparently, a Norwegian composer and performer who has worked with orchestras and her own group, the splendidly named SPUNK.

    This piece is made up of three parts, each around 20 minutes long, performed by three choirs and six ‘sound artists’ (no, me neither) playing a range of instruments and sounds, made I know not how. There is a church organ in there somewhere as well.

    Part one starts with wordless soprano voices before a bass/baritone choir comes in with the repeated phrase ‘oh well it suits all men, the subject of chaos’. Female voices start to harmonise and gradually the industrial sounds of the instruments build up, lowering, growling and screeching. The male voices continue to repeat their single phrase but by the end of the 17 minute passage they are all but obliterated by the other voices and musicians.

    Part two is much more low key for its first 12 minutes – wordless choral passages and gently breathy instrumental sounds create a hypnotic contemplative mood but in the second half the volume steadily builds so by the end there is an ominous wall of sound which is anything but contemplative.

    Part three sees the ‘noise artists’ and their largely unidentifiable instruments steadily come to the forefront all but obliterating the voices in a force field of sound. The voices come and go however, in particular with the repeated phrase ‘I am the sign of the leper’. Which doesn’t sound like a good thing. It gradually breaks down to more chaotic force field of white noise through which the occasional choral or shouted phrase manages to break through.

    This is music which demands attention but I’m not sure it fully earns it. It has neither the purity and depth of Arvo Part nor the melodic range or instrumental inventiveness of Bjork, to take two obvious reference points (I’m sure there are others but this isn’t really my area of musical expertise). It’s music that straddles classical music and pop and electronics. It is undeniably serious and worth a listen, but too often it resorts to power through the sheer volume of 3 choirs and a battery of electronic instruments and noises rather than melodic or instrumental richness and variety. It was written to be performed in a Cathedral with complementary lighting, and the musicians surrounding the audience. I imagine it’s very powerful in concert, and the CD comes with a DVD of the live performance (which I haven’t seen having listened on Spotify).

    I’m glad to have heard it, and I can see a case for this being in anyone’s top 100 of the year so far. But it’s a hard listen. First time around I was intrigued and interested. By the end of the third I was just exhausted.

  66. It’s heartening to see the reviews still coming in. There’s no time limit, so if anyone who’s not yet put their hat in the ring wants to do so at some point, please go ahead. There are plenty of albums still to choose from. I’m really enjoying it so far. (Still waiting for a video of interpretative dance, though.)

  67. The introduction to the article says, “we understand that these lists are taken very seriously by a lot of music fans,” well, not if you are over 30 and don’t own a beard, pal. I am – just – over 30 and tragically beardless, so I was never their target market, but even so my self-imposed rule of choosing a record picked by a random number algorithm did me no favours at all. After rolling the dice Peder Mannerfelt’s latest waxing “Controlling Body” popped out as my reward. Why couldn’t I have just pretended it was Radiohead FFS?

    So it was with trepidation that I fired up Spotify.

    Because I’m not getting paid I only got through the first few tracks on this. The first, “Building of the Mountain” begins with a TV test card tone, then some slow loops: a female voice synth pad, a brass stab, a bit more of the test tone and an unsettling kick drum. This lasts four minutes. I gave it a go because I thought it was a scene setting overture to the main event. Alas the next track is more of the same, but this time a bloke and a snare drum loop dominates. Fast forwarding along the progress bar does not change matters. Next!

    Track number 3 – BZ Reaction: a chill out dance number, dubby synths and seagull sounds. Rather like that West Coast record “Studio” I bought on AW recommendation recently. You could play this while folk are arriving at your BBQ without ill-effect.

    By now the progress bar is getting some heavy action so by the end of track 4 – another, slightly slower chillout number, good for playing while telling your guests where to park perhaps – I have had enough.

    Mini – I tried, I really did. But this fell victim to the brutal but necessary MCE “Life’s Too Short For This Shit” Rule, which is a corollary of sorts to Tiggerlion’s “Six Listens” one.

    Roll on the AW end of year roundups, because at least in those I can judge based on what I know of other posters’ listening habits.

  68. I’m going back to the well to have a listen to the new Palehorse record. According to tQ, “Looking Wet In Public” is the 95th best album of the year so far, which, if the law of averages holds, makes it the third or fourth best record to be released in the week it came out (although I bet none of those records had any song titles as good as “Miserable Heroin Addict vs Jehovah’s Witness Guy” or “Terrifying Japanese Coldplay Documentary“). It’s sludgy downtempo stuff, anchored by two prominent bass guitars. Listening to it is a bit like being tied to the tracks by a moustache twirling villain, only instead of an oncoming train there’s a steamroller coming down the tracks. It’s very slow, very heavy, and it just keeps coming, a bit like Steve Albini’s post Big Black work, but without the joie de vivre and irrepressible sense of fun. There is a real sense of hopelessness throughout, of swimming in a morass of futility and despair. I think this record would make an excellent soundtrack to a game of musical chairs at a child’s birthday party.

  69. The runt of the litter at #100 is Brood Ma’s Daze. Initial impressions are good – 13 tracks in just 27 minutes, positively Ramonesian. Now to actually listen to the thing. This is a real time review, so it’s all first impressions, and the six listen rule be damned.

    1) Westerly Spawned Lamb. oooh, this is quite good, spooky ambient, a bit Haxan Cloak. A good start.

    2) Be Yourself. A sampled countdown and some good bleepy noises, with vaguely ominous drums. This is sounding like a good album so far

    3) Goldman Sax. Hang on, it’s gone a bit wine bar. Queasy saxophone noises. Don’t like it. But it’s only thirteen seconds long so no harm done.

    4) Well Equipped. At 2:42 this is a positive epic, and at this stretched out length you can appreciate what’s going on. There’s a lot of careful production here, some interesting noises and rhythms.

    5) Hard Wear. Picks up where the last one ended, but is gradually introducing some metallic synths. There’s a rising urgency here

    6) Thorium Mox. Getting a bit more frantic, rapid beats and an industrial feel taking over, with doomy synth washes on top of it all. Puts me a bit in mind of the track “Body Armour” by Special Request, all gunfire percussion and low end.

    7) Molten Brownian Motion. Here we go. First real pounding beats on the record. Skittery industrial techno with a Blackest Ever Black flavour, could almost be Vatican Shadow or Black Rain

    8) Sex Compressor. A sudden shift down into triphopesque territory. But very doomy triphop, you understand, very doomy indeed. You wouldn’t want to eat off this coffee table. Unintelligible sampled vocals that sound like someone talking through strangulation help with the general sense of alienation that seems to be running through the album

    9) Sex Contortion. Not really a track, a 38 sec conclusion to the last one that dispenses with the beats in favour of speeding up noise

    10) Dim Returns. About thirty seconds in, there is almost a melody, a fragile green shoot pushing up through the clattering drums and concrete sub bass.

    11) Social Re-Entry. More industrial synths. clicking beats and vocals processed beyond intelligibility. Sounds like a city in permanent darkness under the thick black smoke of burning oil wells.

    12) Sacrificial Youth. A call and response between a bright chirping two note pattern and a crushing weight of noise. Like the “conversation” at the end of Close Encounters if the aliens weren’t friendly but instead bent on taking over the planet.

    13) NRG Jynx. Ah, and this is the sound of said destruction. The synths stab like lasers firing down to take apart the mantle of the planet and then the heavy equipment moves in,
    sucking all the natural resources dry and moving on, leaving a tattered cinder in their wake.

    I’m basing it on only one listen, but I really like this. It’s dystopian electronica, not a cheery listen by any means, but it holds the attention. It’s cohesive and compelling, and if industrial by way of Neuromancer sounds like your thing, I’d give it a whirl.

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