Monday, June 8, 2009  12:05 am 

Fried eggs in the sky

I already said this somewhere else, but having spent a whole morning raking my cowering brain to find new words to express these extreme feelings, I am afraid I shall have to repeat myself, because you wouldn’t want me to collapse, body awaiting wretched for my beloved flatmates to find lying in a puddle of crimson and pink like the final confrontations at Scanners. would you? You so would, you bastards. Alas, I won’t give you the pleasure, not yet, and here we go again:

When I am old I shall look back to the day when I saw Oneida at Primavera Sound 09 from the first row, blasted, I shall sit my mutant offspring in my knees and ask them to lick the acid tears running down my emaciated cheeks, so they can trip on mighty visions of progressive zealots taking Barcelona’s heavens by storm. They are releasing a new album, ‘Rated O’, comprised of three parts the second of which this begins, and how, by conjuring images of electric maelstroms and pillars of power collapsing upon each other, picture Turner’s rabidest seas and picture mighty Thor’s little helpers hovering over nature as it does its thing, brandishing the tools of the trade of those who demolish planets in search of psychedelic gold. They strike a rich vein, and our faces are illuminated by the light to become devilish kabuki masks that flash grotesque grimaces of utter joy. The legend continues, step into the path.

Oneida- The River

But there’s always calm after the storm, Ganglians sprawl on the lotus position over wet sands of a beach destination of the pilgrimage of debris, bundles of letters in faded ink washing this shore like a flock of paper pigeons, and so they play their sad and beautiful country music while the sun punches holes in a tattered wall of purple clouds. We told you about them a while ago, now they have a very nice 12 and Monster Head Room, the album whence this comes out on Woodsist, lovely west coast laid back melancholy strutting which is bound to take over the world like only pretty music can.

Ganglians- Cryin’ Smoke

labels >> Ganglians, oneida

  2 Comments »  

Friday, June 5, 2009  12:10 am 

Mountain Muscle

Tuxedomask welcome us into their giant ice pyramid positioned high up in between misty peaks shrouded in solitude by an iced over forest of silver pine trees that sound like a million quartz chimes shattering into pieces as the wind blows through them. Here they sit atop a customised gold leaf throne, the kind of which Rick Wakeman once oozed his splendid regal pomposity over in the days when he lauded over knights of the realm and armed with his arsenal of synthesizers would make all and sundry dance and glide across his pristine crystal clear cathedral floors like drunk cobras emerging from their charmer’s baskets.

Before them in the centre of the room, perfectly and eerily still stands a young waif of a woman dressed in a willowy new wave Grecian outfit, her face obscured by waves of blonde hair concealing an unmistakable sense of unspeakable dread in her eyes who upon hearing the pearl strand strains of their wintry slo-mo rococo disco orchestrations moves into life to perform an anti gravity ballet. At both sides of the girl sit a congregation of men, all with the same face possessed of a chilling spider like intensity, doppelgänger of one another cloaked by black hoods, who throw glass roses in sick appreciation that shatter at her bare feet and paint the pyramid floor ruby red, waiting for her to blink as she glides across beautiful coral waves of synthetic sound.

Tuxedomask - Twin Peaks

With a name like Timo of Finland you might expect this (surprise, surprise kids!) Finnish native to craft oily, squelching, red light grooves that might soundtrack monumental Society styled orgies inside a giant leather padded fuck fortress, where muscle quite literally melts into muscle and burly men rip open each other’s hard toned bodies for a place to rest.

Timo’s sound is altogether more chilled, conjuring up scenes of Giorgio Moroder holidaying in Monaco, resplendent in all white, flanked by giddy giallo nymphs whilst walking two mechanical poodles in front of a pink and orange sunset. With its romantic louche euro cool and elysian italo power plinks that could have emerged from the dreamtheatre in Kelley Polar’s head it could very well serve as the bluebird prelude to a dark night in the fortress.

Timo of Finland - Omnomnom (Demo)

labels >> Timo of Finland, Tuxedomask

  6 Comments »  

Thursday, June 4, 2009  12:05 am 

Mucho Espacio

So, the lovely folks at RVNG have come up with the goodies once again, this time it is Purple Brain (aka Bumrocks and Jason from Hey Convict!) at the helm of the transdimensional space jetty who sail across murky wormholes eventually arriving at the darken lair of the funk butcher, this is a mix which doesn’t pummel but seduces, ebbing and flowing like the unpredictable tides of mesmerising swamp lands, or acrobatic pirouettes in and out of bizarro freudian landscapes, think of an incredible voyage inside the mind of the Holy Mountain’s alchemist- ju ju drums, Aztec sacrifices and teutonic codeine sturm und drang. We knew but a handful of glittering bones that lie under the fertile grounds of this burial mound, join us in a trip of love, death and discovery.

Here is but a taster, heart-rending South-African piano agit-funk by the Bahumutsi Drama Group as edited by the Purple Brain Folks, and included in a 7” which is being released together with the mix. Soul sorcery.

Bahumutsi Drama Group- To the Comrades (PB Edit)

I toyed with the idea of posting another tune excised from the mix for you to revel in, but fuck it, you are going to have to pony up for the rest of the package, right here. For now, I am going to leave you with a couple of tunes endowed with the sort of glorious mystery that would have made them worthy of inclusion, I hope you enjoy them.

GDFX’s ‘Choose your Emanation’ is the melancholy kosmische beginning of a gravitational ascent into an orgone-powored lunar elevator, it bristles with the foreboding beginning of a Hawkwind mushroom trip glimmer & vibrato, and it does definitely take you into a strange black zone where golden specks of cosmic dust swirl in their eternal hex dance, causing a mild erosion in your left auditory channel which is the echo of alien transmissions projected from beyond a star that perished aeons ago.

GDFX-Choose Your Emanations

And if Eastern Esoterica is what you smoke, then you should make sure you grab yourself a copy of Sir Richard Bishop’s very latest, The Freak of Araby. After much good humoured wise Saharan coyote loping & revelling up and down the curls of silken dunes which are also strings and resonating drum skins, or the awed pink laser gaze of a deathhead Lawrence of Arabia, the album ends with a ominous stomper,which rattles like Burning Star Core covering Omar Korshid to soundtrack the confrontation between Father Merrin and that gnarly Babylonian stone devil at the onset of the Exorcist, but way deeper. Heavy smokes indeed.

Sir Richard Bishop- Blood Stained Sands

labels >> Bahumutsi Drama Group, GDFX, IGETRVNG, Sir Richard Bishop

  2 Comments »  

Wednesday, June 3, 2009  12:05 am 

Tension in the Alpha Quadrant

The Emperor Machine return with album number trois with much rippling of synths, bulbous polymorphic cloudscapes punctured by the stabbing points atop the Martian radio masts and sonic batshit accounts of the interstellar clashes of lunar violence between moon-monkeys and the giallo Saturn marshalls, lost in space and time forever where no-one can hear them scream.

“Dave Gent” is pure vintage synths quaking on the burning cold surface of the frozen tundras of Pluto, an Assault on Moon-Unit 13 by invisible but deadly lifeforms - a tense scene of stealthy combat played out across the reflective visor of a spacesuit, shattered and dripping with blood that floats out in zero-G globules glistening amongst the stars.

The Emperor Machine - Dave Gent

For yet more organic spacefear, exchange funds for the excellent “Space Beyond The Egg” LP and check the awesome video for recent 12″ “Kananana” by director Cassiano Prado.

Faze Action travel back in time to 1978 to hijack Osé’s Orgasmachine and ride it back to the year 2525. With the chrome-plated funk of Kano, the ‘cisco strut of Sylvester and the vocal pattern of The Supremes locked inside a super-computer, “Stratus Energy” is formed which spontaneously transporting the Mayan transcedental third eye formations of Latin America and the ghostly wooden bangle-beats of deepest Africa to the surface of a far-flung planet in a disco dimension.

“Danae’s Journey” is a disco-expedition across silver sands on a backdrop vista of purple palm trees and golden pyramid clusters, the arduous journey of a princess on her faithful cyber-augmented camel to her beloved robot prince.

Faze Action - Danae’s Journey

——————————————

Here is a sweet mixtape of jacking summertime murder and mayhem from demonic synth brigadiers and best mates of Michael Myers, GATEKEEPER. Best listened to with blood-filled ears.

GATEKEEPER - Summer Hits Mixtape

labels >> Gatekeeper, faze action, mixtape, the emperor machine, xxjfg

  10 Comments »  

Wednesday, May 27, 2009  12:07 am 

Glasslands

Ghostape ensnares an unsuspecting listener in a snug realm of smokey spectral exotica, like turning a flesh and bone body into rice-paper and setting it down on a bed of morning dew where it can melt into the blades of grass on a field in front of a strange formation rendered in black glass and medieval stone pillars, with the man and his hooded woodland followers spiralling around this ancient ground in an intoxicating dance and song - half hyphy made by Arcadian nymphs and half tribal jams made by all the smallest mammals. If the stars be properly aligned at the moment of midnite, apparitions appear to possess the creatures and a new rhythm is created in a jamboree of bones, glass shards, sticks hitting stretched skin and the hushed twinkling of harps made of pine cones.

Ghostape - I Feel your Soul

Lush tendrils of beautiful wonderment comes in many forms, and from Indonesia creeps the psychedelic tones of Space System, incorporating solemn marimba pulses into a shifting-sands back-bone beat with a warped reality effect that drags the events of “Akira” into a pin-point vacuum and fires them out the other side, re-written as a sweet anti-gravity strole in a park on the surface of Neptune, transparent flashes of a mutated Tetsuo heralded in by echoing sea-shell synths. If Krautrock had been invented in the Far East, then this would of opened one of Tangerine Dream’s early LP’s:

Space System - Petik

Taken from the “Nature” LP, out on space.rec.

Primavera Sound kicks off tomorrow, and your 20JFg friends will be doing the rounds of amaze, this is one of the best festivals ever so hopefully see some of you there, at the first row of Liars and Oneida. We are also DJing at the closing down party on Sunday at Apolo, so come and say hi!

labels >> Ghostape, Space System, xxjfg

  8 Comments »