Along with friends and fellow psychedelic wayfarers Black Dice, Animal Collective is no stranger to journalistic hyperbole. But for a moment, disregard the wisdom of Flavor Flav. In this case, the hype may be worth believing. Bridging the gaps previously separating ’60s acid folk, laptop glitch and 21st century delirium, the Collective’s early releases unveiled a beguilingly twisted voice at the cusp of a wonderfully skewed discovery. Sung Tongs is the sound of that unfolding, parceling out the group’s idiosyncratic acid dementia, elated experimentalism and sun-scorched tunefulness in equal measure. It’s the sound of contorted incantations and unhinged shamanistic therapy, the restless, searching yang to electronic folkster Greg Davis’ restrained folksy yin. It is the sound of autarkic voices doing their best to crack the grid, destined to scare some and rudely awaken others. Sung Tongs is the sound of a new kind of Cosmic American music, and it’s alive all around you.
Beta Band Heroes To Zeroes
If John Cusack’s bitter record clerk in High Fidelity slammed the door on the Beta Band’s best-underground-secret status in one cynical swoop, the group doesn’t seem to care. They’ve continued to hone their Anglo-psychedelic craft and now, as duty calls, they aren’t afraid to lean a bit harder into the mainstream. This time around, their lancet melodies and post-baggyisms are pointedly aimed at the powers of disinformation, political deceit and modern tyranny and it appears these Scots could do with working out a bit more of that aggression in their music. The fact is, the void between radio pop and the judgmental underground is a precarious place to locate oneself and as a result Heroes to Zeroes precariously toes the line between good and unmemorable.
Kabuki Signal to Noise
When artists make tunes to fulfill their own DJ box-not those of the scene’s “top jocks”-it shows. German drum & bass head Kabuki (who also records under the Japanese-themed aliases Makai and Megashira) does just that on Signal to Noise, a record that grounds itself in genteel, jazzy and pristine-sounding d&b but also plumbs broken beat and hip-hop flavors. Melding the cool (but not clinical) vibes of Detroit techno with breakbeats, Kabuki alternately hits (with the quirky broken electro of “After the Fire” and “Logic Bomb”) and misses-vocal jungle tracks “Speed of Sound” and “Spend the Night Remix” are too light in the loafer-but ultimately pulls off his signature sound.
Organum + Z’Ev Tinnitus Vu
Finally, a noise record dedicated to the wanderlust of tinnitus! Avant-industrial percussionist Z’ev collaborated with composer David Jackman (Organum) to make you realize just how disorienting yet addictive it is to leave a concert and have harmonious squeals smother your eardrums. Yet Tinnitus is easy listening. A soothing cloud of heavy reverb and flanged air drenches this 16-minute EP into a sleepwalking pace. Added to the ether are soft drones, sporadic piano chords, and light, clicking percussion that brushes like elm branches against the walls of a house. Since Z’ev and Jackman have probably lived with damaged ears for so long, this is their comfort music.
DJs On Strike! I’m So Happy!
DJs On Strike! fired the salvo that the DJ is not your savior, but a mere editor of somebody else’s sounds. So now what? Become what you condemned, and enjoy it. I’m So Happy! may be 2004’s most half-assed concept record. Kurt Cobain’s sarcastic elation in the first line of Nirvana’s “Lithium” inspires the title of this 66-minute EP-39 minutes of it being “Silence” that ends with a “bing” nobody will wait to hear. The DJs concoct a roller disco party where Nirvana jams over “booty beats,” which would’ve caused brawls at my junior high in ’92. Sure, “Lithium” and “Smells Like Teen Spirit” are seamlessly mashed-up, but none of it moves the soul-unless said soul is lubricated with six pints.
BJ Nilsen Hazard/Live At Konzerthaus, Vienna 06_12_03
Swedish musique concrÀte composer B.J. Nilsen (a.k.a. Hazard)’s live document will make you drop everything and stare into space. His sound is distant, alien and yet seductive enough to draw you outside your house to drift through the streets, following its trail for hours on end. This 39-minute set at Vienna’s Generator festival is a brilliant, watercolored symphony of murmuring drones, winds, thunderstorms, boat rickets and the odd bumblebee that reminds you that you’re still on earth. Nearly everything is kept in the same key and saunters in a soft tone without ever pissing in your ear with bursts of feedback. Live… proves that we should keep an eye on Nilsen.
DM & Jemini Twenty-Six Inch EP
Neither beholden to underground mores nor reliant on commercial tactics, Danger Mouse & Jemini have colonized hip-hop’s middle ground, a realm dormant since the late 1990s. Here, the duo capitalize on DM’s Grey Album notoriety, reminding us that last year’s Ghetto Pop Life (from which this EP draws remix material) is ripe for the canon. Tastiest of all the re-rolled joints is the producer’s 26 remix of “What U Sitting On?,” featuring Cee-Lo’s charmingly demented crooning and Tha Alkaholiks’ lascivious come-ons. Later, “Ghetto Pop Life II” drains the original song of its symphonic splendor, slowing Jem’s boastful hook in the service of lazy summer afternoon listening. If you’ve got ’em, smoke ’em.
Royce Da 5′ 9 Death Is Certain
Royce Da 5′ 9″ would rather be reviewed in The Source than in XLR8R, but the Detroit-based MC has-after a dalliance with the majors-been reassigned to the underground. For all his battle credentials, the MC freezes up in the booth, stricken by an inelastic delivery and clich»d subject matter-see “Gangsta” and “Beef” for proof. Still, “Hip Hop” finds DJ Premier in fine symphonic form while “T.O.D.A.Y.” sparkles, buttressed by producer Carlos Broady’s piano-dappled backing and Royce’s commendably self-questioning lyrics. More honesty along these lines would have been welcome, for the rest of Royce’s raps-no matter how gruffly delivered-rise no higher than those of his generic contemporaries.
Superpitcher Here Comes Love
Superpitcher has long been Kompakt’s secret weapon-the codeine in its cough syrup, if you will. His remixes for artists like Carsten Jost, Contriva, Dntel, and of course Quarks not only trump the originals but also have become some of the finest tracks in the entire gloom-pop canon. Not surprisingly, expectations are high for his debut album and by and large he delivers, despite a soft patch mid-way through where slow burners flare into torch songs. But on the rest of Here Comes Love, Superpitcher’s strengths shine bright: chiming bell-tone highs, spongy lows, and a murky, back-masked midrange that sounds like it contains all the secrets of adolescent love. Techno’s never been more winsome, or more wistful.
The Beat Club Lost In Space
The Beat Club is the electro-leaning moniker used by Miami producer Ony Rodriguez. “Lost In Space”‘s four songs all thread the galactic theme with thin, metallic electro beats, digitally treated vocals, and harsh synths and pads. The title track is the standout, although it’s not much more than looming basslines, ethereal female vocals and an overabundance of old school electro percussion.
