Friday, May 27, 2011

Funk You Evil Dictator Suharto!!!

Wait. You're looking for something really funky? With fat bass kroozin' threads? With horn sections and psychedelic guitar riffs? Something with a spicy Latin twist and keyboard breakdowns? Whoa, whoa whoa... more specifically, you want progressive Pysch-funk with politically charged lyrics from illegal, underground, mid-70's, Indonesian night clubs, that were brutally censored and repressed for years by the evil dictator Suharto? Well.... I don't know if I can bring you an entire album, but here's a single track I found.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Slippin' An'a Slidin'

Wet Willie' Greatest Hits(1971-1978)


'Wet Willie' from whence this pack o' southern scragglers derived their name, is a apparently a regional term, referring to an Alabamian practice of sucking on your finger and then shoving it in somebody's ear. It also means that dirty stuff you're thinking right now.

They're real rawhide power swaggerin' son's of 5 bitches, and commence to whoop out some of the hottest, nastiest, most needlin' on the point southern rock ever created. Gotta' say they do the best white rock slash James Brown act since the Yardbirds (disagree? ITS IN THE DAMN MOUTH HARP!). Vocals like Creedence, swag like Little Richard, collective instrumental harmonies like a dirtier grittier version of The Band, but instead of those extended jams the Allman Brothers were renowned for, Wet Willie were closer to the spirit of Booker T & the MG's or perhaps the Mar-Keys, much more steeped in sweaty, good-time R&B than the blues-rock of the Allman's or the likes of the Marshall Tucker Band. Think of what Lynyrd Skynrd would have sounded like if they had one lead guitarist and performed strictly on an all white chitlin' circuit... if such a thing ever existed....

If y'ur unfamiliar with all the bands I just referenced, I did a toad suckin', gawd awful job of critiquing these guys, but trust me and give 'er a listen.

-Creol'w Fedo'

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

All I Need Is Some Sunshine

This new album entitled Creep On Creepin' On by Timber Timbre I've had in my player quite frequently lately. I just had to share it. They're a dark swampy bluesy folk trio from Canada that conjure a spooky smokey mood that you can't help but be hypnotized by. They slowly build their merky atmosphere with deep baritone guitars , delicate violin and lapsteel, minimal percussion, saxophone, and cunning use of keyboards, samplers and loop pedals. All this woven together with the deep country-folk flecked soulful croons of main singer-songwriter Taylor Kirk. The vibe is akin to bands like Morphine, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave, although they really have cornered a sound all their own with everything that's going on. I mean they're on Arts and Crafts Records so you have to expect a lot more arty experimentation, which is obviously apparant. Anyway, definitely worth a listen. I've fallen deeply in love with this band. If you like this, their self-titled that came out a few years ago is very similar and also highly recommended. The one before that (debut) you'll get a lot more of a lofi production value, especially on the vocals, also worth a go, but different tonally.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Another Nugget

So I decided I couldn't live without posting at least one more nugget. UK heavy progressive/psychedelic rock band Fuzzy Duck released their one and only album in 1971 and it rocks super hard start to finish. '71 is the year of all years, I swear to Jesus. Enjoy.

how fuzzy was he

-Blackness Monster

Good Ol' Texas Psych

Man, what I would do to be able to have existed back then when the shit was good. Well, shit's still good, but this shit was radical! A lot of what I love came out of the late 60s and early 70s and once in a while I'll throw some of it at yous.
Once upon a time in Houston, Texas there were a few young musicians who worshiped the rock, when united they called themselves Josephus. A few of the artists coming out of the scene at that time included Jimmy Vaughan, Johnny Winter (and their brothers Stevie Ray and Edgar respectively), The 13th Floor Elevators, Bubble Puppy, the list goes on. This was high time for Texas Psychedelic Rock. The birth of it really. Many of the bands playing gigs around this district never left Texas before they were kaput. Josefus is one of them. The original line-up was only around for about a year and a half. As well as some of the aforementioned bands, they also played with Quicksilver Messenger Service, ZZ Top, Grateful Dead, Grand Funk Railroad, John Mayall, etc.
Since their distant inception they've gained quite a cult following. This record, Dead Man, was self-released in 1970 and limited to only 3000 copies originally and since has become a quite sought after title for record collectors. It has since been re-released in a 2-in-1 album set also including their first recording Get Off My Case which has 7 tracks, 4 of which are also on Dead Man-just different recording sessions. If you find it, I definitely recommend getting it. This is free-form hard psychedelic blues rock and apparently doesn't even compare to their live performances, which I'm surely jealous I missed. These guys were really in tune with each other and on their massive jam of a final track you'll see what I mean.


Sunday, May 22, 2011

Waiting at the Departure Gate

Alexander Tunrquist's third album Hallway of Mirrors just hit stores last Tuesday. If you aren't yet familiar with this young prolific experimental composer/guitarist, here's where you get on. Entirely instrumental melancholic experimental folk/drone. The foundation of his compositions are on his 12-string steel guitar, using rapid intricate and inventive tangles of repetitive guitar finger-picking creating a hypnotic dream-like atmosphere. This lush guitar drift is overlapped by soft chimes of the vibraphone, sweet violin, maybe some cello and other harmonics. Immerse yourself immediately into his otherworldly beautiful compositions. Perfect soundtrack for a morning hike after a gentle rain, which is all I'm getting here in Utah during the most elongated Spring I've ever endured. Either way, I'm a sucker for this stuff. He can be compared to other great minimalistic multi-instrumentalists like James Blackshaw, Kaki King (early), Jack Rose, Rachel's, David Pajo, etc. Pitchfork caught wind of his first album and branded him an 8.2 rating; his second reached #6 on The Silent Ballet Top 50 of 2009; and this one no doubt will garner attention as well. Not a bad reputation for an Idaho born 20-something (born in 1988). His skill and technique is to be revered, no matter the age.

give it a listen


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Pourin' Lean & Collard Greens

 Big K.R.I.T., Country Shit(Remix)(feat. Ludacris & Bun B)

Let me tell you bout this,
Super fly, dirty dirty
Third coast, muddy water, 
Shawty pop that pussy if ya wanna,
Let me tell you bout this,
Old school pourin' lean,
Candied yams and collard greens,
Pocket fulla stones ridin' clean...

Big K.R.I.T. takes us back to a time when that Durty South Grime almost took over the entire planet, he carries on the legacy that UGK and early Outkast left behind. With a clear lyrical respect for candy paint, choppin' rims, poppin' hydrolics on tha corner and spillin' lean on the wood grain, the grime penetrates deeper on this track, bringing a soul sampled beat with mean swagger, that is as much influenced by selling crack and pimpin' as it is by gospel music. I gotta say "GOD DAMN!" it's good to see Luda back in action, he blows this track wide open with the first line, "Let me tell ya bout these old school Chevy's, Cadillac SS Impalas. If you smoking then we got mo' sacks then Troy Polamalu." For those of you who generally disregard hip-hop because it lacks substance, or any substance had, promotes bad stereotypes against everybody. Keep in mind that Luda and K.R.I.T. bring layers of intelligence and respect to polish their street cred, and maintain a very delicate equilibrium with lines like "No insurance on these whips tags all outdated,  might not be shit too you,  but my momma thinks I made it."

If none of this makes sense it's cause I've never written hip-hop and havn't listened to any besides Nas and The Beastie Boys in months. This track is worth everybody's time so SHUT UP, click play and dance your ass off. 

Country Shit (Remix) (feat. Ludacris & Bun B)-Big K.R.I.T.


Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Delta Shock Treatment

 Muddy Waters, Electric Mud(1968)

Amplification. Electricity. I could leave the article at that and it would be better than any further elaboration. I'd say that almost anybody would acknowledge that the blues was created by black men. I'd also say that those same people would say that Rock n' Roll was a 'black' sound. I don't think that many people would tell you that Rock was a sound developed by black musicians at all, when it is widely credited to Zeppelin, Cream, The Stones or The Beatles. Although, it is acknowledged that a sound developed by black musicians laid the foundation for those previously mentioned, it is not acknowledged that maybe some black musicians made it onto or gave birth to the psychedelic movement before the white British rockers we love ever figured it out

Muddy Waters you sonofabitch. I always knew you were contributing from behind the scenes for the entirety of the 60's. But until I found this record I had no idea that you found psychedelia this early. Sometimes you need an album that kicks the fucking door in. This is one such album. Electric Mud  was Produced by Marshall Chess of Chess Records in 1968 (pause... realize... '68 was the year Cream disbanded, it was before MC5, Yes, Iron Butterfly, The Jeff Beck Group, Steppinwolf, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Vanilla Fudge, The Guess Who, Led Zeppelin I or White Light/White Heat..... pause... appreciate... continue), in part to rein in a new audience weaned on the burgeoning wave of psychedelic rock whose predecessors both jeered and worshiped the temple of Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, Albert king and their blues brethren. The results, depending on your age, vantage point and general attitude, was one of either disdain (purists) or that of enthusiasm (young rock fans). The album was thrown together in hopes of attracting this younger generation who seemed to be attracted by inordinately loud decibel levels. Abandoning Waters' normal band, Chess rounded up a group of new musicians who dubbed themselves "The Electric Niggers." Once in the studio, the new band set their equipment to 11 in search of new levels of distortion and fuzz. I'd say they found it. This is blues driven Psychedelic Rock n' Roll that sling shots itself past capabilities or achievements of any other traditional blues guitarist. The album is built on Muddy originals, covers and re-workings, and gives the general attitude of incredible accidents and exploratory dumb luck. This is not clean or slick or sexy. This is dirty and misunderstood. Tru Grit. You put it on late at night, when you need the proper amount of voltage to kick doors down.

Download Electric Mud

-Corey Bleedoor

Monday, May 16, 2011

Will you show me around

Jamie xx and Gil Scott Heron, We're New Here (2011)

James Blake doesn't like remixes. Well I don't like James Blake. The remix isn't just a record company marketing tool; it's a valid art form, and has been for some time now. But is there a way someone can make a name for himself solely on chopping up and mixing other artists' tracks and stamping his suffix of a name on the thing? Most definitely, and that guy is Jamie Smith, who is best known as the producer and percussionist of the xx. I might beg to differ regarding this “best known” business though, because after an incredible couple of months, the man who goes by the very unoriginal stage name of Jamie xx (seriously?) is 2011's King of the Remix and certainly has the potential to eclipse his band even though he only has one “solo” song to date. While he's done a bit here and there over the last year or so, his big break was getting to remix legend Gil Scott Heron's new album, turning it into We're New Here. That's something, considering Heron is a known recluse, only communicates through written letters, released his first album in over 15 years, and is over twice the age of Jamie xx, But the pairing isn't as unlikely as it may seem. Heron's latest album, which is great, and definitely worth a listen, is an amalgamation of spoken word, soul, dark electronic, and is simplified, almost to an extreme. The xx are all about minimalism, and pride themselves on their use of negative space, so Jamie xx is obviously not out of his element. He can obviously cut it as an electronic producer, but if you listen to his samples and mixes he's also pretty damn soulful. Plus Heron's a pretty eclectic guy; on I'm New Here, he spits on everything from a simple acoustic riff loop to not one but two samples of Kanye's “Flashing Lights” to a stripped-down hand clap of a beat on the neo-gospel “New York is Killing Me.” The latter is utterly brilliant, a disarming present day a cappella-esque work song where the dude just really needs to leave the hellish confines of the Big Apple and get back home that good ol' southern cookin' of Jackson Tennessee. This is a track that really didn't need a remix. But Jamie's flip of it preserves the raspy anguish of Heron's voice and slaps just the right amount of dirty dubstepicity (yeah, I just coined that shit) to melt your face. There really isn't anything out there right now that sounds like Jamie's alarming, frenetic beat on this one, as he retains the simple darkness of the original in club format.

There are some hiccups along the way, especially tracks like “Home” and “Running” where the dude just sounds like he's fucking around on his laptop. But the real jams come later in what is a really bottom-heavy album. “Ur Soul and Mine's” one of them; I think the main reason I love this one so much is because it reminds me a ton of Crystal Waters' "Gypsy Woman," which is as classic of a 90s house tune as they come (you might also know it from T.I.'s 'Why You Wanna') and an obvious influence. The main line here is the possessive repetition of “your soul and mine,” filtered with odd, sporadic windchimes here and there. But then it just explodes, spiralling into a nightmarish world where the grisly gray-bearded visage of Gil Scott Heron holds you captive for eternity. “I'll Take Care of You” might be the most xx-ish song on the album, as bandmate Romy Madley Croft makes a subdued appearance, offering his warm, simple and airy guitar riff that reassuringly responds to Heron's promises. It's just another prime example of the ever-increasing collapsing of genre barriers; who said a gravelly old soul singer, an all-black donning English indie guitarist, a 22-year old electronic producer prodigy who is currently in the studio with Drake and Florence + the Machine, and a keyboard-driven house tune couldn't all just be thrown into one big dance music stew and turn out to be a blue ribbon combo? By not using one sample off of I'm New Here with the exception of Heron's voice, Jamie xx really triumphed in successfully merging old with the new. And since this “new” is truly forward-thinking in its genre-blending nature and isn't the same old recycled thing we've all already heard, well, as long as this guy continues to create sounds that make our ears happy - remix or not - I'm on board. And I don't give a shit if that whiny James Blake isn't.


P.S. Check out two other unbelievable Jamie xx remixes: Adele's “Rolling in the Deep” and Nosaj Thing's “Fog.”

Download We're New Here

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Electric Kool-Aid Funeral Anthem's

The Black Angels, Phosphene Dream(Sep, 2010)

     I'm not going to analyze the hell out of this thing because I'm just too god damn exhausted after the week I just had. But anybody who follows this site needs to know about The Black Angels. Dylan, Jon and I had the opportunity to see these guys at Slim's on Saturday and it was siiiick. These guys are the front runners of the neo-psychedelic resurgence that we have seen taking place during the last few years.  An ode to many things we know and love, their influences are deeply invested in classic rock bands, and they end up with a murky flower power atmosphere. Directly speaking, their sound is heavily based on The Doors and The 13th Floor Elevators and even borrow the bluesy shuffle sensibilities of The Animals. The vocal harmonies on this track "Bad Vibrations," reminds me of those shaman like Pink Floyd moments, where even if you have never tried LSD, something about the climax in David Gilmours voice makes you feel like you have consumed ungodly amounts of the stuff. They have a heavy organ accompaniment, and carefully intertwined blasts of vibrating guitar chords. As much as they derive their sound from 60's psychedelia, they often bring you down a much darker street than the colorful tied-died likes of their influences, instead they bring the impending doom of The Velvet Underground, and sometimes reach depths of much deeper despair, although the lyrical substance is nothing compared to that of Lou Reed. Also like the Velvet Underground, they get into some pretty eerie, lucid jamming but can switch it from dark side sonic exploration, back to a pop sensible quality on a dime and often do.

Bad Vibrations-The Black Angels


Monday, May 9, 2011

Moon Cabbage

Unkown Mortal Orchestra, Unknown Mortal Orchestra EP

      When you unleash “Thought Ballune” on your auditory vessels, despite whether or not you have actually heard this track, I bet you’ll ask yourself where you have heard this before. This brand of rock has a lot of influences. Bands today are really shattering genre barriers like we have never seen in the history of music and it’s never going to stop. I often wonder how far we will take this business of compartmentalizing, and dividing genres in an effort to label things, until we all lean back in our chairs, take a long cool drag of Makers Mark and just say….. Fuck. U.M.O front man Ruban Nielson has made me more, simultaneously confused and content than I thought I ever could be. Taking funk, neo-soul, surf and low-fi psych-rock and combing them with Grandmaster Flash break-beats and Beach Boys vocal harmonies to produce a nuclear transmutation of noise that sounds like it was randomly selected from the dusty, mislabeled, upper shelves of a Greenwich Village record store. The sound establishes presence in a seemingly unconquerable space, between the tear in black matter space-time, where Led Zeppelin caste Thor out of Valhalla; and the only P&M plutonium fueling station in the galaxy, frequented by Parliament Funkadelic on their quasi-psychedelic, 4th dimensional voyages to Pluto. This galactic voyage is showered with wah-wah pedal distortion, painful and delicate vocal chops, all supported by a rhythm section tighter than 3-inch diameter coupling nuts, tightened by a Craftsmen model 1019 Laboratory Edition Signature Series torque wrench(used by NASA).
     This EP would have a colder darker ascetic to it, if it weren’t filtered through an analogue sheen that adds that crisp flowery vintage sound. Because this EP has a bit of everything in it, any listener will feel a certain familiarity or recognize a bit of their own tastes and memories in these tracks. It’s almost as if you and Nielsen grew up together; rummaging through his parents record collections until you both agreed on the best albums available. Except you went on to sell insurance and he followed that child hood optimism and naivety to create something you always wish you had.


Sex, Catastrophe, And Things Blowing Up...

John Paul Jones(bass), and John Bonham(drums) have absolute perfect timing on this song. This is one of the tightest rhythm sections that ever walked the planet, and this might be one of the best examples of how dead-on-balls accurate they were capable of being. Bonham's kick drum swings with anvil force around Jones' dexterous bass line. Jimmy Page's guitar pronounces itself, fat with menace, drawing hazardous and perfectly balanced symmetry.   Bobby Plant's vocal crooning's echo out across the audience like a cannibal chorus wailing in the infernal light of a savage fertility ritual. He matches the bands intensity with fierceness during the "Oh YEAH, oh YEAH, OH, HUH, HUH," then ushers the same beast in with delicacy during "I gotta walk, can't stand still, got a flamin' heart, can't get my fill."

Make sure your bass is turned up all the way, you are wearing headphones, and you are paying very close attention, with the highest possible volume at 3:27.


Sunday, May 1, 2011

It burns forever

Burial - Untrue (2007)

I love the mystery of music. One of the great appeals of electronic music is its ambiguity; it's awesome not being able to tell whether some demented dude is making crazy beats in the man-cave confines of his mom's basement equipped with its own jerk-off station or if the sounds you're hearing are emanating from some alien being light years away. For a good three years or so, Burial was completely anonymous, and people wondered just who the hell this genius of a producer was. Unfortunately, he's from privacy-free London, and tabloids were desperate to discover the name of this unbelievably talented mystery beat-maker, and some were throwing out names like Aphex Twin and, of all people, Fatboy Slim. Now, it's pretty ridiculous to think that Fatboy Slim would make this, so the dude was pretty much forced to come out and reveal himself, thus his goal of making anonymous music just to make anonymous music was foiled. By wanting to deflect all this attention away from himself, he essentially has the anti-English mentality. But his music is very much English. Dubstep and 2-step garage both originated in limey territory, and his style fits somewhere in between, with his use of jittery drum patterns, R&B vocals, and raw basslines. His “revealing” of his name (William Bevan) hasn't changed him at all though; there's only one known picture of him and he still never DJ's or plays live. But even if he stopped making music, what he's done so far already has been exemplary, with his crown jewel being Untrue, an unspeakably beautiful, landmark collection of tunes perfectly reflecting the social and urban isolation of London.

This is dubstep at its finest, its not in-your-face burst-your-eardrums brostep, but its intricate deftness mesmerizes you, and you listen, and want to pay attention. But it's no joy ride. Untrue is the sound of something unsettling, the loneliness of sitting on a train in the middle of a rain-soaked London night, the feeling of knowing the city's littered with people, but being as alone as ever. But as much as the despair and anguish pierce you with every mournful wail, every distorted, gender-ambiguous moan, the sense of hope is right around the corner, the light at the end of the tunnel. If anything, it sounds undoubtedly real. It's as earthy and human as electronic gets; pouring rain provides a backdrop of more than a few tracks, things as mundane as keys jangle here and there, and ominous footsteps can be heard walking up and down the tunes like some lost soul on Elephant & Castle before dawn. This gives the album such a nice balance, as it lies somewhere between heavy distortion and ambient humanism, reminding you that, yes, as ambiguous and anonymous as it is, it's also deeply personal. I can't even begin to tell you how sick it would be seeing Burial DJ live. But I don't blame him for avoiding the limelight. These are tunes that are made for getting lost in the confines of your headphones. If William Bevan was all over gossip sites and on TV all the time and playing in massive basketball arenas, there would certainly be a bit - check that, a lot - of magic lost.

Download Untrue