The best new albums this week
The top of the LP pile
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
The Mole – The River Widens (Circus Company)
When he first cropped up around the mid 00s, The Mole seemed to have a fairly distinct and focused approach. It was refreshing in the minimal scene he rolled in, leaning in on dusty sampling and holding true to the disco roots of house music as a sound palette while retaining some of the more experimental and reductionist traits of his peers. In truth, coming from the Montreal-centric coterie which included Akufen, Deadbeat, Mike Shannon and Stephen Beaupré, there was space for colour and humour in his music, but still his sound was separate from those around him, and it served him well as he served up a debut LP to Wagon Repair and continued to flip his sound sources at acute angles and generally seemed to be having a whale of a time.
The artist otherwise known as Colin de la Plante has kept on doing his thing since those times, never seemingly breaking through to some kind of mass hype but equally never compromising on his style or playing to the growth of the ‘underground’ professional techno complex. His work gets bumped by plenty of tuned in spinners, but he has a wayward flair in his music which perhaps puts off the more conservative big business aspects of the scene. As such, the arrival of The River Widens as a limited cassette on Eddie C’s Red Motorbike label in 2021 felt like a logical move. Eddie C is revered by those who know as one of the foremost authorities in disco and disco-informed house music in Canada, but he’s a cult figure much like The Mole. This mixtape-style album came out in a low key fashion, and it gave de la Plante space to really show his many-sided muse. It all seems obvious in retrospect, with that aforementioned focus on sampling yielding all kinds of different avenues down which he can head, shrugging off tempo restrictions or beats altogether and yet still managing to sound like The Mole at the end of it.
Circus Company know what’s up – after all they share some kind of lineage with The Mole’s trajectory from those quirky minimal years – and now The River Widens gets a more ceremonious release so we can reflect a little deeper on what de la Plante has offered us here. It’s a collection which stays true to the title, meandering between ideas and allowing plenty of space for the water to flow in between them. It’s close in spirit to a beat scene collage, where sweet licks and perfect loops can do their thing without the need to kill the magic with an overwrought arrangement. Why ruin a great groove by trying to justify it over six minutes?
Listening experiences like this feel all the more relevant in the modern age, as information overload leads to shattered attention spans, and so The River Widens plays out like an attention deficient radio station which will pull you in at unexpected junctures and send you off on surprising tangents. Of course there are some more pronounced pieces in here as well – ‘Repepepater’ is an exquisite beatdown with an aching slice of piano playing riding on top of an appropriately down-low rhythm section, teasing at the warm up slot if you dare to make people feel rather than just giving them the easy goods to get the night going.
Elsewhere, you might hear The Mole as you’ve never heard him before, languishing in pure ambient synthesis with a sombre countenance, or tripping into the backroom with a fresh twist on machine-powered downtempo. Like all the best mixtapes, it’s a varied sketch pad which shows an artist operating with total freedom, but rather than coming off as half-baked offcuts, every idea on here is dope as hell. Just listen to the groove on ‘July 11 Creeper’ and try to not snap your neck. ‘Brain Bed’ is no slouch either, a rugged beat crying out for an angry MC.
Each nugget is one worth some air time, and you could easily cherry pick your favourite pieces for use elsewhere, but importantly for the spirit of this reissue, The River Widens holds weight as its own self-contained listening experience. Like turning the FM dial and finding gold every time between the static waves, it’s a patchwork which never misses.
OW
Abracadabra – Shapes & Colors (Melodic)
If there’s one genre guaranteed to get this writer frothing at the mouth, it’s No Wave. Bush Tetras, ESG, Liquid Liquid, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, ZE Records, that whole late-70s/early 80s downtown NYC scene is catnip to my ears.
Which is pretty handy for Oakland’s Hannah Skelton and Chris Niles because they do a very natty line in 21st century No Wave.
Their second long-player, Shapes & Colors, feels like a leap forwards from their 2020 self-titled debut album. You can hear where they were headed, but here they land it – the funk-fuelled dancefloor basslines, the tight, locked-down grooves, the sweet vocals, the synths, the chugging guitars, it all just clicks into place.
The opener, ‘Talk Talk’, is a joy. Its stoppy-start intro sounds like the song is revving up, when they let out the clutch off it blasts. There’s steel pans. And a cuckoo. We’re not even three minutes into this 10-tracker yet.
It’s hard to ignore the influence of Tom Tom Club here, which is absolutely no bad thing. ‘At The Zoo’ could’ve come straight off the first Tom Tom Club album, while ‘In A Photo’ serves up a bassline that is Weymouth-sleek (as, to be fair, are most of the basslines on show).
The duo also admit to being influenced by the likes of Stereolab (see ‘Telling Time’), King Tubby (see the nightcrawling ‘Swim’) and ESG (the whole thing shimmers with Scroggins sister goodness). They also namecheck Mort Garson, claiming the title track is inspired by New Year’s Eve fireworks viewed from their couch while listening to Garson’s ‘Plantasia’ for six hours straight. Which, you know, should be reason alone for getting ‘Shapes & Colors’ on your turntable.
Underling these breezy, upbeat musical salvos comes the band’s narrative of tackling “the trials of late-capitalist anguish with a smirk and a bit of optimism”. Being from Oakland, they’re within spitting distance of Silicon Valley and single ‘Talk Talk’ implores those who can’t see past their phone screens and a reliance on communicating through social media to, well, perhaps join in with real life. Wise words that we should all listen to.
And we should all be listening to Shapes & Colors. A lot. I have. This a record worth getting excited about. Love it.
NM
Scalp – Black Tar (Closed Casket Activities)
Closed Casket Activities is a label that has become synonymous with all things bleak, aggressive and alternative; exuding an expansive roster of hardcore and metal acts pushing the boundaries of modern extremity.
Starting as they mean to go on, their first drop of 2023 arrives in the form of 12-minute sophomore full-length (you read that right), from California’s Scalp; who harness all of the ugliest tropes of blackened grindcore and hardcore punk to conjure a sonic barrage that’s as intimidating as it is impenetrable.
Following on from 2020’s ferocious debut LP, Domestic Extremity; the band have taken a deeply unsettling stance when attempting to process grief, both internal and external, with guitarist Devan Fuentes describing the project as – “a very negative outlook on my past life experiences: trauma, addiction, psychosis, losing family members to overdose, personal opinions with religion, and blasphemy.”
The material here dissects the darkest facets of one’s core, analysing and criticising over-reliance on substances as well as the hopeless frustration with seeing loved ones seemingly wither away while confined to hospital beds. ‘Diabetic Necrosis’ blisters with unhinged, chaotic fury, while anti-religious blasts of venom such as, ‘Jesus Is God’, are embellished with caustic squalls of fuzzed-out, harsh noise that engulf the already decimating, metallic caterwauling composition.
With such a brief runtime, the mission statement of, Black Tar, is to sonically portray those moments of total rage and hopelessness we can all allow ourselves to slip into for brief periods. By channelling utter despair through the audible guise of practically every variant of challenging, extreme metal and hardcore, Scalp have elevated themselves beyond standard fare to an artistic precipice that often can only come from true strife. This is the soundtrack to hate, plain and simple, and further exemplifies their label-home’s efforts to spread the staying power and cathartic nature of musical extremity.
ZB
Rian Treanor & Ocen James – Saccades (Nyege Nyege Tapes)
As Nyege Nyege’s impact continues to grow in connecting forward-leaning African electronic music with scenes elsewhere, this is exactly the kind of project we want to hear. Rian Treanor’s sound is rooted in hyper-detailed, wholly synthetic sequencing, where cultural cues like footwork and techno become vague outlines for his computer to run amok in. The results are consistently new and enlightening, and as such don’t come weighed with much baggage when taking them elsewhere. As such, he was a perfect choice to be invited to Kampala in 2018 for a residency with Nyege Nyege – an experience which inspired his File Under UK Metaplasm album but now more literally manifests in this collaborative LP with Ocen James.
James is a shining example of the vitality within the Nyege Nyege community, pioneering an electrified version of traditional Acholi ceremonial music dubbed Acholitronix. In this approach he fuses fiddle playing with electronic rhythms and call and response vocals, commonly with high tempos and polyrhythms driving everything forwards. As such, Saccades has plenty of ripping moments of hi-octane sound as Treanor’s custom software pings around metallic percussion to match the kinesis of James’ playing, but it’s not a one-dimensional rush of fast and furious fusion.
Just listen to ‘The Dead Centre’, where James’ fiddle twirls in cyclical but decidedly melodic fashion around gong-like drone swells, or ‘Memory Pressure’s unsettled merging of plucked string impulses and microtonal murmurations underneath. There’s a lot of ground covered, and at every turn it feels thrilling and fresh. ‘Agoya’ is an undoubted highlight, where all the pieces meld together in a thoroughly balanced whole, with a discernible groove to lock onto and some of the most arresting playing from James as the pair find a melodic synergy. In an album bursting with rich moments, it’s a particularly wealthy exercise in the best kind of cross-cultural collaboration.
OW
New Found Glory – Make The Most Of It (Revelation)
Melodic hardcore influenced pop-punk mainstays, New Found Glory, are arguably one of the most vital acts the scene has ever produced. Bridging the gap between both the aggressive and accessible forms of punk has garnered the group a devoted following as well as ample mainstream success in the early noughties brought from their seminal self-titled and critically acclaimed follow up, ‘Sticks & Stones’ (more on these later).
Consistent to a fault, and constantly in search of new label-homes and reimagined ethics with which to approach their formula, ‘Make The Most Of It’, is an experiment equal parts surprising and anticipated.
While a work such as 2014’s Resurrection embellished their easycore roots with some of the most momentous and anthemic breakdowns the band has ever produced, their latest endeavour is a total subversion of what one would expect from an album put out by iconic punk label Revelation, which has been home to genre staples such as Gorilla Biscuits and Youth Of Today, while more recently flying the flag for new school artists like California crossover thrash mob Drain.
In the wake of guitarist Chad Gilbert’s cancer diagnosis, and subsequent battle with the disease, the members took time to reflect on the essential components of life such as friends, family and human connection, and opted to craft an acoustic project, made up of seven serene cuts that glisten with delicate hues of fragility and vulnerability.
Cuts such as the folk-punk ditty, ‘Watch The Lilies Grow’, pulse with a natural rhythmic cadence constantly swelling with the undercurrent of a subtle string section, while lead single, ‘Dream Born Again’, recalls their classic cover of Sixpence None the Richer’s, ‘Kiss Me’, with its lovelorn pop sensibility and ethereal pulse.
The latter half of the project is made up of renditions and reimaginings of some of the band’s most essential tracks that already boast several acoustic versions online but have yet to receive studio attention until now.
Coming back to their aforementioned early and more notable works, ‘Head On Collision’, and, ‘My Friends Over You’, take on new forms of life within their new analogue structures, allowing vocalist Jordan Pundik to plumb the emotive depths of messages he hammered his flag to the mast of more than two decades prior, while, ‘Understatement’, translates from youthful and buoyant to tranquil and introspective with such natural ease. The absence of the already acoustic leaning, ‘Sonny’, is somewhat understandable, but can’t help but feel like a missed opportunity and the only true error in this refreshing collection.
Part acoustic EP, and part reappraisal of their integral hits with newfound gratitude and grace, Make The Most Of It, pleads for the listener to do just that, be it with this project, the band or simply life in general. A subversive, endearing, and welcome curveball from a group, who without their input, might not have ever paved the way for similar artists to take such meanders off of the beaten path with the backing of an iconic label force with years of credibility and tenure.
ZB
We haven’t heard too much from Romare over the last couple of years, so the arrival of the always-alluring artist’s latest album is certainly something to savour. Having impressed with a series of striking releases on Ninja Tune over the past decade, ‘Fantasy’ sees Archie Fairhurst cut loose with his very own label project, You See.
There’s a novel aesthetic to go along with the new platform, too, with Archie exploring previously uncharted territory as he incorporates his own instrumentation and vocal garnishes into his ever-dexterous sample moves. Casting the inspirational net far and wide, he journeys through cinematic topography, with his distinctive rhythmic thrust driving the abstract and at times propulsive sonic textures.
The album starts on an especially strong footing, with the stirring horns, oddball melodies and spoken word samples of ‘Priestess’ setting an enticing tone. ‘Walking In The Rain’ feels like a forgotten trip-hop gem resurrected from the vaults, while the stripped topography of ‘Dungeon’ evokes sinister scenes as brooding bass and alien motifs meander over sparse drums. If it’s bangers you’re after, look no further than the grubby acid waves and paranoid synths of ‘Seventh Seal’, arguably the most floor-focused of the collection but still endowed with abundant nuance and craft.
The evocative sample chops and live bass of ‘Arthur’ again feel steeped in trip-hop heritage as they languidly unfurl, before the jagged layers of ‘Sunset’ propel whispered vocal and dramatic synth stabs over unfamiliar landscapes. Finally, the closing track ‘The Fool’ allows for some eyes-closed sing-along immersion, as soul-drenched vocals and dreamy synths brilliantly combine. It may have been more than two years since we heard from him, but Fantasy suggests those years have been anything but wasted, with Romare’s musical quest showing no signs of slowing.
PC
Oscar Jerome – The Spoon (Jeromeo)
In case you haven’t been paying attention, some of the most innovative, original and downright exciting music coming out of the UK today can be categorised as soul or jazz. While there’s always going to be something timeless about the classic tones of days gone by, these canons have evolved, disseminated, and spread their wings, taking in sources of inspiration from hip hop to drum & bass, experimental electronica to avant garde pop, and wound up in a very healthy place indeed. In contrast, Oscar Jerome’s first long-form outing since his 2020 debut, Breathe Deep, goes to show there’s still a place for timelessness, not that it doesn’t also come with plenty of contemporary flourishes.
Musically, it’s a very high standard. Recorded mid-pandemic in Berlin, intimate moments abound, oozing an air of reflection, plucked guitars and fireplace atmosphere, smooth, almost whispered vocals. Then there are more upbeat ensemble-style numbers that cry out for the late night dancefloors all those lockdowns took from us. On the other side of analysis, lyrics match for quality, not to mention resonance, tackling some notoriously difficult subjects, from depression to injustice, with the accuracy and resonance of an artist claiming more years, not to mention scars.
MH
Caryatids – The End Of The Sun (Kitschy Spirit US)
The as of yet lesser-spotted Wisconsin band Caryatids are one to watch. Cutting the image of barely lifting a finger to record and release this new cassette The End Of The Sun, the mystique of this dark experimental rock group is nothing less than infatuating. While very little is known of them, one of their few online biographies tells us they are “bearing witness”. Coupled with their scenic album covers, this suggests a sublime awe at the experience of life itself has been poured into the music. It also nods to their name’s pronunciation, “carry-uh-tids”, which leads us to discover that they are named after a Greek style of sculpted female statue, designed to take the place of a column in supporting entablatures (platforms), like those found at the Parthenon.
This is an incredible album, blending influences from goth, punk, atmospheric black metal and Midwestern emo. But for all its fusions, it’s also the kind of project that eludes genre categorization (as pioneering albums should). Take the track ‘A Room Without A Window’; the naked, unprocessed vocals of M. Martin coast honestly over its immense backing, as drum-fill freakouts from the credited Mike Pellino seem to crop up every two bars or so. We make out masochistic themes; “satiate the pain… go away”. Elsewhere, intoxication and death; “you were drunk on wednesday… bleached hair, mid forties, walked with a waddle on the street… standing there outside of the church.” ‘Black Crows’ is our highlight, with tremolo’ed guitar and seething intakes of breath marking its sizzling climax.
JIJ
Eyot Tapes – Paradise Tapes (Muscut)
One lesser known, tongue-in-cheek style of music is ‘ghost tropics’, a sound explored by the likes of Glows, Spencer Clark and of course the Ukrainian label Muscut. Combining its themes with ‘underwater music’ as coined by Michel Redolfi in the 1980s, Eyot Tapes – the new signee to Muscut – has here produced yet another deep-sea soundboard in the style, one for curious cruise-ship defectors, and/or coral reefs come to life, alike.
‘Paradise Tapes’ was made for and by cassettes, making use of lost arts like splicing up tape loops or purposefully causing the spools to warble, resulting in “pitch-fucking”. While the contentious term “exotica” might rear its ugly head here, this album really nails the feeling of rediscovering some inaccessibly boggy wilderness zone, not in real life, but rather by sifting through reams and reams of slightly damaged VHS tapes first made to document its forbidden discovery. Openers ‘Jungle Tapes’ and ‘Open The Book’ take their names from the work of Tarzan writer Edgar Rice Burroughs, and all tracks subvert ideas of jungle-bound “savagery” into something much more humane, through the calming media of tuned percussion, distant guitars, animal calls, snake-charming synths and green noise. As we delve deeper into the swamp, things become less rhythmic and ever-stranger (‘Ajor’ is our fave, a perfect grotto of vinyl noise and fluting pads made to resemble paradisiacal bird calls).
JIJ
This week’s reviewers: Martin Hewitt, Neil Mason, Jude Iago James, Zach Buggy, Oliver Warwick, Patrizio Cavaliere.