I have not really explored electronic music for quite some time, so admittedly I am far out of the loop. That said, it did not take me long to turn up the latest release from Silent Land Time Machine, and it's blowing my mind. I am no longer alone with myself and can only artificially recall the scary and beautiful feeling of solitude is, as a title as well as a record, a tremblingly lustrous piece of poetry. Each track steeps within the senses, working into the fascia of the physical and ethereal bodies where it saturates into the solidarity of our experience. As the record comes to a close, it carries a weight...you know that feeling when you've just finished reading an incredible book - one that spoke so deeply to your heart that you truly felt understood - one that left you with heightened energy and the sense of perfect aliveness? You assimilate the reading of that literature into the fabric of your being; from there on out that book is intertwined with who you are and can no longer be considered merely a physical object on a shelf. Try this on for a while and see how it fits...
Showing posts with label Electronic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Electronic. Show all posts
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Barn Owl @ O'Briens Pub
September 16th, 2011. Through the September night chill my good friend Cassandra and I walked a handful of city blocks from where we parked to the micro venue that is O'Brien's Pub in Allston, MA. In a space maybe a tad larger than twice the size of my living room was contained a bar, corner stage, and makeshift merch table. The four acts to perform that evening could be found mingling with members of the audience, who were few and fortunate. O'Brien's was buzzing with a mellow warmth - an anticipating, welcoming, and thankful energy.
Stillborn, the first opener, served us a twitchy electronic onslaught chalk full of amazing transitions - abrupt yet strangely smooth at the same time. Imagine a time signature, tempo, and key change somehow occurring naturally over the course of a measure or two; it'd be enough to slap you in the face but Stillborn makes it easy...leaving you wondering just how the hell he did it. Next was Lussuria's dark, ambient, and swelling synthezised soundscapes. Containing some industrial nods the undertone was cold and grim, but, as two strangers can bond through grief, also presented a gesture of universal connection. The third opener, High Aura'd, was slightly more organic - one man looping several layers of effects-drenched guitar, hum, and feedback. An immense repetitious drone stuck to the air in the club as he worked through his set, successfully and gracefully closing the loop from the first two openers to the main performance of the evening.
Barn Owl's Jon Porras and Evan Caminiti finally took the stage and what followed left me in awe. The sounds found on their records were here impeccably reproduced in raw live spirit. Layered waves of a weaving sonic tapestry pushed out the walls as we settled in to a growing space. The fact that this full sound - swirling, shimmering, soaring, and shaking - was being produced by just two men on stage was truly astonishing. Most impressive was their unbeleivable mastery of feedback. Barn Owl uncannily induce precise tones, timbre, and squeal as elements of their compositions.
They moved beautifully through their set without speaking nor recieving applause, which was held until the end. Their eyes closed in focus, bodies swaying and swinging naturally through meditative musical practice, Barn Owl's live experience - much like their recordings - can be both cathartic and transcendentally affirming. It was evident that Porras and Caminiti were incredibly tuned in to each other during their performance; it was as though they were one creative entity, existing only and continuously as the moment in which their sound became music. Absolutely astounding.
Stillborn, the first opener, served us a twitchy electronic onslaught chalk full of amazing transitions - abrupt yet strangely smooth at the same time. Imagine a time signature, tempo, and key change somehow occurring naturally over the course of a measure or two; it'd be enough to slap you in the face but Stillborn makes it easy...leaving you wondering just how the hell he did it. Next was Lussuria's dark, ambient, and swelling synthezised soundscapes. Containing some industrial nods the undertone was cold and grim, but, as two strangers can bond through grief, also presented a gesture of universal connection. The third opener, High Aura'd, was slightly more organic - one man looping several layers of effects-drenched guitar, hum, and feedback. An immense repetitious drone stuck to the air in the club as he worked through his set, successfully and gracefully closing the loop from the first two openers to the main performance of the evening.
Barn Owl's Jon Porras and Evan Caminiti finally took the stage and what followed left me in awe. The sounds found on their records were here impeccably reproduced in raw live spirit. Layered waves of a weaving sonic tapestry pushed out the walls as we settled in to a growing space. The fact that this full sound - swirling, shimmering, soaring, and shaking - was being produced by just two men on stage was truly astonishing. Most impressive was their unbeleivable mastery of feedback. Barn Owl uncannily induce precise tones, timbre, and squeal as elements of their compositions.
They moved beautifully through their set without speaking nor recieving applause, which was held until the end. Their eyes closed in focus, bodies swaying and swinging naturally through meditative musical practice, Barn Owl's live experience - much like their recordings - can be both cathartic and transcendentally affirming. It was evident that Porras and Caminiti were incredibly tuned in to each other during their performance; it was as though they were one creative entity, existing only and continuously as the moment in which their sound became music. Absolutely astounding.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Five in Eleven for Lamb
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Lamb: Lou & Andy |
She Walks:
Some related side-notes...
Andy Barlow is also releasing his own record under the name LOWB on February 28th, called Leap And The Net Will Appear...and yes you can preorder that too. Andy has several tracks available on his LOWB website as a preview for potential buyers. If you enjoy the music behind Lamb I'd highly recommend checking out Andy's solo pieces; while still recognizable as the electronic backbone of Lamb, his solo work is clearly written with a different intention. Where one would expect to hear Lou, we hear adventurous synth melodies or a guest vocalist. The structure of his songs, each now no longer necessarily accommodating vocals, are a bit more free to roam wherever and however they happen. The similarities to his work in Lamb will surely keep us satisfied until May, when we get to indulge in something we haven't heard in years...an entire album of new Lamb material.
During Lamb's hiatus Lou Rhodes had released three of her own stripped-down, folky records. All three have been astonishingly beautiful. The first, Beloved One, remains my personal favorite. It seemingly maintains a perfect balance of professional production without sacrificing each song's straightforward and simple nature. Although various accompaniment appears throughout the record it never detracts from the core: Lou's guitar and ambrosial voice. Bloom, Lou's follow-up to Beloved One, is her most production-heavy offering. Like Beloved One the songs are again very strong - especially lyrically - but this time the additional musicians, instruments, and effects cause the songs to feel much more polished and engineered. While this is a departure from the groundwork of her first solo record, it really isn't a bad thing. In fact the change of pace is quite nice - Lou didn't step into the studio and just crank out another 'Beloved One'. A great example, and perhaps the highlight of the album for me, is They Say. Starting out with the basics of just a few sad notes from her acoustic guitar, the song's mood becomes more eerie and brooding as additional musicians join the fray. Eventually they reach the climax, a storm of dissonance and emotion peaked by Lou's vocal lamentations. Here's a great live version:
Lou's latest, One Good Thing, is her most raw and simple record; in many ways it is a reaction to Bloom. It was recorded 'live' in Andy's studio in just a few weeks. Production was kept to a minimum, though at times the reverb, either electronically employed or natural, is just a tad much; once noticed my ear had a hard time letting it fall naturally in the mix. One Good Thing feels so much more intimate than even Beloved One. There is no filter between the listener and the creator; what Lou has written for herself she shares directly with all of us in an open and fearless expression, straight from her heart. Lyrically, Lou is always Lou; the words of her solo albums are a natural progression from that of Lamb, and as always unmistakably honest and full of love. These are Lou's truths which reflect a stillness of being; listening to her records is meditation.
I can't wait to hear 5 and catch Lamb on tour! So "Remember, remember the fifth of..."...uh...May.
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