The best new albums this week
Weatherall’s comprehensive remix collection tops our list of must have LPs
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
Various – Heavenly Remixes 3 & 4: Andrew Weatherall Volume 1 & 2 (Heavenly)
Hard as it is to believe, it’s been almost two years and you can still feel the shock of Andrew Weatherall’s untimely death. Like losing John Peel in 2004, the shock runs so deep, you half catch yourself forgetting he’s not here anymore.
Like Peel, Weatherall was eclectic in his love of music. Listen to his NTS ‘Music’s Not For Everyone’ shows – there’s plenty online – if you’re not sure what I mean. His thirst for it, in all its shapes and sizes, was undimmed.
And that hunger showed in his own work – as Sabres Of Paradise or Two Lone Swordsmen, Woodleigh Research Centre with the brilliant Nina Walsh, or flying solo on albums like the staggeringly good ‘Convenanza’. It’s there in his production work. You have to love how he worked with One Dove and Primal Scream, almost in tandem. Just as Martin Rushent made ‘Dare’ by day and Pete Shelley’s ‘Homosapien’ at night, you can hear the same cross pollination with ‘Morning White Dove’ and ‘Screamadelica’.
And then there’s Weatherall’s remixes. Oh the remixes. On a regular basis, I’ll discover one of his remixes that I had no idea existed. Only a couple of weeks ago it was his rework of Silver Apples’ ‘Edge Of Wonder’. It’s staggeringly good. It’s subtle, just flecks of Weatherall, but even his flecks are golden.
The joy in this collection of his work for the Heavenly label – two volumes across four sides of vinyl – is exactly that. There’s work you will know, but best of all is the surprises.
Saint Etienne’s ‘Only Love Can Break Your Heart (A Mix Of Two Halves)’ and Flowered Up’s ‘Weekender (Audrey Is A Little Bit More Partial Remix)’ are chief among the crowd-pleasers here. The Saint Etienne rework is mammoth, a stone-cold classic, with its huge backwards rumbling sweeps, a bassline that growls like a lion and all his lion friends, and percussion that twinkles like stars. And all its starry friends. And then there’s ‘Weekender’. What can you say about that? Just to remind you, the mix featured here is 17 minutes long. And it’s still too short.
But as I say, classy as those crowd-pleasers are, it’s the obscure gems that really thrill. There’s LCMDF, Helsinki-based siblings Emma and Mia Kemppainen, whose ‘Ghandi’ single from 2010 is transformed from a sort of call-and-response Tom Tom Club meets Flowered Up into an arpeggiating, hypnotic instrumental swirl of tune.
Espiritu’s ‘Conquistator (Sabres Of Paradise No.3 Mix)’ gets all ‘Blue Monday’ on your ass. And just wait until it rolls out ‘Stakker Humanoid’. I mean, I couldn’t tell you what the original sounds like, but I know this remix. All 12 minutes of it. At the other extreme, there’s Mark Lanegan Band’s ‘Beehive’ which gets the dub treatment. The original is a very cool rock song, with a great vocal hook. What does Weatherall do? Lift the hook and turns it into a floorfiller. “Lightning coming out of the speakers” indeed. It’s not so far off what he did with My Bloody Valentine’s ‘Glider’ all those years ago. And that’s a remix that really shook shit up.
Has there been a remixer as consistent, as thrilling or as prolific? Like Peel, we’ll miss Andrew Weatherall, we’ll miss him forever, but thankfully he lives on through fine work like this.
NM
Pinegrove – 11:11 (Rough Trade)
When Pinegrove dropped their breakout second album, ‘Cardinal’, back in 2016 via Run For Cover, it signalled not only a shift in the emo revival but also the pedigree of acts, genre adjacent labels were willing to take a punt on.
After years of demos, a self-released debut full-length, and a true DIY ethos, this curious project sporting an amalgamation of emo and country rock came out swinging with endorsements from label peers such as Basement.
In later years, primary songwriter Evan Stephens Hall, would move the group to Rough Trade, where they have remained ever since. To use the old cliché of all previous projects leading to this, and getting it out of the way, leave no doubt that ’11:11′ is a culmination, rumination and reflection on the journey that has led the band to this point.
The charming juxtapositions of heartfelt, hyper lyrical emo with traditionalist banjo and lap steel instrumentation have become increasingly nuanced with each subsequent release. So much so that the unique sound feels natural and essential in their careful hands, whereas it could easily fall into hokey territory under the wrong guidance or leadership.
Hall has spent the better part of at least a decade pouring over this style, honing it with focused precision, and that sonic confidence is evident in the fact that he handled production duties for this fifth record.
On a lyrical front, however, Hall sounds more anxious, worn out and in search of solace than possibly ever before. Many of the tracks here deal directly with the looming, ever present fear of climate change, with ‘Orange’ serving as a somewhat humorous yet entirely haunting anecdote of the utter lack of concern for what is a certified impending crisis.
Where cuts like ‘Alaska’ recall the indie-pop brevity and quirky catharsis of earlier material such as ‘Problems’ or ‘Angelina’, it takes ‘Respirate’ to truly highlight the effects of the pandemic on an already unstable mindset. So much weight and interpretation held in the simple confession of “When Corona hit, I was already feeling pretty out of it”.
The near seven-minute epic, ‘Habitat’, is arguably the finest achievement of ’11:11′, providing an expansive foray into every intrinsic element of what makes Pinegrove so special, building from gentle and delicate to bombast before dissipating into the ether with a hypnotic, repetitive acoustic refrain.
The band have indicated that they might possibly slow down in the near future, and let other avenues of life take priority for a change. If that’s to be the case, this latest effort has provided enough lush arrangements, lyrical pondering and genuine charm and endearment for listeners to unpack for quite some time.
ZB
Japanese Telecom – Virtual Geisha (Clone Aqualung Series)
As Clone’s Drexciya-focused Aqualung series notches up release number 17, it’s an opportune time to marvel at just how much music James Stinson and Gerald Donald released from their aesthetically sealed electro universe. Donald of course still releases music to this day, but there’s no arguing with his peak productivity of the 90s and 00s, whether considering his work with the late Stinson in one of the most important electro partnerships of all time, or indeed through his many solo endeavours. There can’t be much left to revisit now, what with recent reissues of Elecktroids, Arpanet and Abstract Thought amongst the many seminal projects freshly pressed and available at accessible prices. And yet here we’re faced with an absolute classic from Donald’s oeuvre, the sole Japanese Telecom album Virtual Geisha.
Alongside the gathering of early Dopplereffekt work, Gesamtkunstwerk, Virtual Geisha represent some of the most accessible, funkiest electro Donald has ever made. It’s telling that both records came out on DJ Hell’s International Deejay Gigolo Records at the turn of the century, when electroclash was running wild. Donald’s touch is far more authoritative, without all the glitter-caked preening and posturing you might well have heard elsewhere, but there’s a playful spirit to Japanese Telecom which would have surely won over listeners beyond the circles of devout Detroit disciples.
The foundation of Drexciya still holds true through Virtual Geisha, not least with the striking clarity of the arrangements. There’s no room for fluffy self-indulgence – the beats are dry and direct, the synth lines uncluttered and never competing with each other. Donald’s intention seems crystal clear throughout, and despite the relatively simplistic approach there’s ample space for nuance and variation. The plaintive emotion in tracks like ‘Remote Transmitter’ sits alongside the noirish cyberpunk fantasies and Euro synth-pop motifs of ‘Cigarette Lighter’, while ‘Pagoda Of Sin’ revels in sugary video game ornamentation. There’s even room for some forthright bangers, from slow and heavy stomper ‘Virtual Origami’ to spooked-out snapper ‘Mounting Yoko’, and the odd experimental diversion which foreshadows Donald’s more explorative work. It’s a classic in every way, beaming in from a purple patch for a hugely important producer, redolent of an era while simultaneously transcending it, nuanced enough as a proper album trip and yet loaded with heat for the twitchy-fingered spinners out there.
OW
Hildegard Von Binge Drinking – Sprechfunk Mit Toten (Sabotage)
Charming new mini-album / EP from Hildegard Von Binge Drinking – not to be confused with the ancient German nun, musician, polymath and early feminist legend of (nearly) the same name.
This duo’s (Daniel Gehret and Matthius Labus’) sense of cosmic humour knows no bounds, with nearly all of their releases so far marketing themselves as pisstakes of kosmische classics. This ‘comic-osmische’, if you will, is a reflection of the pair’s critical relationship with the term “kraut”, which they describe as just a “lappish reference gauntlet” for their songs to bounce inspirations off of. Their earliest self-titled LP, to name an example, satirised Jean Michel-Jarre’s ‘Equinoxe’, depicting leagues of nuns on its cover, not to mention Kraftwerk’s ‘Tour De France’ being given a farcical run for its money in 2018.
But despite the knockoff album covers, the music on ‘Sprechfunk mit Toten’, as with their other releases, is wholly original, with nearly every track nailing a neat fusion of post-punky Berliner drums and indiscernibly vocoded voices. This new faux-parody of Ash Ra Tempel’s ‘Schwingungen’, recorded in Würzburg, again sounds like anything but the original album they’ve chosen to parody on the front. Opener ‘Dunkelheit und Licht’ (‘Darkness And Light’) refuses to mess about in its polyrhythmic and squeezy FM basses, while German uhs and ahhs populate the plodding burgeon. ‘Diät’ (‘Diet’) rides this high, keeping a comparatively regular and subdued pulse, but somehow reconciling punk shouts and whispers.
Honks – recorded by guest saxophonist Felix Floss but timbrally hitting on anything between a french horn and an accordion – dance hilariously across each track’s mix, never quite dominating their synthy backings (they’re keen to avoid anything too twee). ‘Angst’ is a slow-building drum solo into synth extravaganza, expositioning the 10” neatly into rapture. Riding this peak, runner-up ‘Orchideen’ (‘Orchids’) closes the EP off with an infectious four-note hook, wintry talkbox musings, and rippling Moog plucks.
Watch out for the exclusive calendar that comes with this one too. If any band can serve as our deus ex to bring about the demise of “kraut”, it’s Hildegard Von Binge Drinking.
JIJ
Ajukaja / Ats – Maha (Porridge Bullet)
Estonian underground lynchpin Raul Saaremets, better known as Ajukaja, has long been found working alongside other artists. He started his excellent Porridge Bullet label with collaborations with fellow Tallinn operator turned US luminary Maria Minerva, and tapped into a rich seam of skewed house with Adrevski for Jon Rust’s Levels label. That’s not to mention the more historically significant Hüpnosaurus project with Alvar Tönso, which reaches back to the DIY days of the early 90s. Now, he’s on a roll with Ats Luik, and the pair are bouncing from an incredible, albeit rather overlooked 12” from last year on MIDA to this scratchy tape on Porridge Bullet.
It’s a keen instinct for the unusual which makes the Ajukaja touch so addictive, but it’s also crucial that it’s balanced out with a grounded sense of groove. There’s a fundamental house pulse which holds these noisy, grubby beats together. Of course a tape also affords a bit more space to roam around and have some fun with skits and diversions in between more fully developed tracks, but the grainy, woozy vibe runs through everything and never tires. It’s not a case of distortion by design or fashionable industrial – the ruffness bedded into the music comes across as a subtle kink in the signal chain, but it’s also absolutely where a lot of the magic comes from.
At times Saaremets and Luik really test the limits. On ‘Rats’ they revel in a tapestry of unhinged analogue zaps and pings, but they still know when to fire off a snappy beat and stitch the madness together into something tangible. ‘Tourna’ revolves around a fulsome, gloopy bassline which sounds like it’s tripping over itself, but the drums do just enough to make it lurch with undeniable funk. If you’ve got a penchant for the scuffed and sublime on the outer reaches of house, you would be foolish to let this one pass you by.
OW
Comeback Kid – Heavy Steps (Nuclear Blast)
Canadian hardcore punk legends, Comeback Kid, have maintained an admirably consistent sincerity and energy since their inception over two decades ago. Lauded by peers of varying degrees and genres; there’s always been a palpable sense of earnest fury intrinsic to what makes their offerings so potent.
‘Heavy Steps’, their seventh full-length, is no exception to the formula, and that’s a compliment. Where most acts lose confidence in their core sound after so many releases, Andrew Neufeld and co have rarely sounded so sure of themselves.
The thundering rage of the opening title-track cements everything CBK have become renowned for; bruising breakdowns, anthemic gang vocals and a nuanced yet deft understanding of weaving melody into the cacophony.
‘Face the Fire’ surges forward with intense speed while bolstering an aggro ear worm hook, but it’s arguably, ‘Into the Void’, that serves as not only the true highlight of the record, but of the group’s latter day career.
With their most concise and impassioned project since 2010’s ‘Symptoms & Cures’, the Canadian hardcore heroes have made it abundantly clear that stagnation does not come for us all. If anything, ‘Heavy Steps’ is the sonic refusal to go gently into that good night.
ZB
Cloakroom – Dissolution Wave (Relapse)
Cloakroom have to be, easily, one of the most slept on bands in the shoegaze/space rock spectrum. Their cavernous sound can feel comforting and inviting yet simultaneously intimidating; a foreboding and unprecedented delve into loose sonic tapestries.
On ‘Dissolution Wave’, their third full-length project (and second since leaving Run For Cover for the wider reach of Relapse Records), the Northwest Indiana based trio have opted for a grandiose concept album, exploring themes of artistry, work satisfaction, collective trauma and the healing power of music.
All of these lofty concepts are unpacked via a protagonist residing in a desert western neo-futurist setting where all existing art and abstract thought has been wiped out, leaving people to begin reassembling artforms in order to make the world a more pure place to inhabit.
Primary songwriter Doyle Martin described the fantastical world of the project as an escape from the more drab surroundings of the modern day. The material is written from the point of view of a miner who spends his free time crafting, questioning his purpose as an employee, artist and human.
Be it the melodic, dronegazing haze of ‘Fear of Being Fixed’, or the bemoaning hopeful hues of ‘A Force At Play’, this is Cloakroom at their most inventive, adventurous and conceptually grandiose. Without losing a microdot of what makes their spacey, detached shoegaze meanderings so hypnotic, ‘Dissolution Wave’ is a triumphant rediscovery of one’s self and artistic capabilities.
ZB
The grungy atmospheric tombstones slowly crumbling around the start of Borderline tell you a number of things about Torn. For one thing, this isn’t going to be an album of straightforward D&B workouts strung together in formation. The electro-acoustic resonance clanking through the space speaks to influences beyond purist club scenes, and it also suggests a storm is brewing. It’s no intro throwaway either, but rather one of the longer tracks on the album – such is the importance Ivan Karasev places upon the more experimental dimensions of his work.
Based in St Petersburg and fresh from a collaborative EP with Roho which announced his arrival on Samurai, Karasev’s Torn alias has come to light (or should that be dark?) in recent years through a mixture of self-released gear and link ups with Weaponry and other labels and artists orbiting the distinct space Samurai occupies within modern D&B. Borderline is an expansive, ambitious album which pushes the idea of D&B as an artistic vessel. It’s also unrelentingly gloomy, cast in consistently greyscale tones. Kasarev knows how to get expressive within this limited colour palette though, wielding texture and rhythm with incredible skill and dexterity. His tracks huff and snarl, bristling with livewire energy as though lifting the towering slabs of reverb and industrial strength percussion with raw brawn. It’s widescreen and utterly intense, perhaps even too full-on to be truly appreciated in a busy dance. Better to sit back and let this one consume you so you can be sure to savour every barb, shard and shatter of elevated sound design.
OW
God Dethroned – The Christ Hunt (Vic)
One of the forgotten greats of technical death metal, God Dethroned provided a malicious statement of intent on their 1992 debut, ‘The Christ Hunt’.
With violent, anti-Christian lyrics, pummelling blast beats and dizzying guitar lines all smothered in squelching, inhuman guttural growls, it isn’t necessarily the biggest surprise that their initial label panicked. Coming fresh from the 1980’s with bands like Cannibal Corpse only starting to realise the heavy depths of their genre, back in Holland the blood splattered envelope was already being firmly pushed.
A cheery image of a dead, dissected rat adorning the cover, an intro track made up exclusively of layers of shrieking, howling and zombified throat singing, as well as blasphemous, violently striking imagery were all arguably a bit much for the Dutch market of the time. So much so that the record was offered little promotion, originally released with alternative cover art, and led to the first (of several) break ups and line-up shifts within the group.
Reissued in 1998 intact and repressed again today for the modern audience with a predilection towards old school brutality, ‘The Christ Hunt’ is an essential piece of 90’s technical, gory, brutal, sacrilegious, boundary pushing metal.
ZB
Astrid Sonne – Outside Of Your Lifetime (Escho)
Danish artist Astrid Sonne has the kind of direct and uncluttered back catalogue it’s easy to get a firm handle on. To date she’s released two immaculately realised albums, both on Escho and both dealing in a kind of non-ambient which rejects club forms while maintaining a sense of forward motion. 2019’s Cliodynamics had a more explicitly electro-acoustic intrigue, and stark moments of conceptual production which could certainly divide opinion, depending on whether you were expecting a smooth listening experience or something more challenging.
On Outside Of Your Lifetime, there’s a more tender approach which helps Sonne’s work land more naturally. The canny merging of avant-garde classical techniques and expansive synthesis is maintained, but with a less abrasive intent. On the likes of ‘Moderato’, there’s power in the discord you can hear streaking through the track, but its overall shape is soft and rounded. There’s a more gentle, meditative quality to ‘Stuck In Pause’, more than likely a response to the upheaval which has informed pretty much every release in the past year or so. Whatever the reason, it’s demonstrated Sonne’s ability to adapt and soften her approach without losing the textural spark which has marked her out thus far, and it’s also resulted in the kind of album you can more comfortably sink into. It might well take her even further than she’s already reached.
OW
This week’s reviewers: Neil Mason, Zach Buggy, Oli Warwick, Jude Iago James.