THE NELS CLINE SINGERS
"Confection"
from Draw Breath (Cryptogramophone)
The Nels Cline Singers have no singer; they’re, at least based on this evidence, a power trio with a thousand faces. Nels Cline’s shredding, Sharrockian reimagining of John Coltrane’s Interstellar Space (a duo with drummer Gregg Bendian) is perpetually fantastic, and 2006’s New Monastery, his tribute to recently deceased pianist Andrew Hill, was brilliant too. His work with Wilco pays the bills I bet, but it ultimately sounds and feels like sideman work. In any case, this latest Singers disc frequently brings Cline’s noisy side way out in front, as upright bassist Devin Hoff slaps and bows along beside him and drummer/electronics guy Scott Amendola whips the living shit out of his kit when he’s not emitting hums and buzzes and throbs like some kind of malevolent robot. [Read the rest here.]
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
TODAY ON PTW
O'DEATH
"Ground Stump"
from Head Home (Ernest Jennings)
Bluegrass is close enough to punk that it’s no surprise a few acts have just jammed the two together—most notably the Bad Livers, who toured opening for the Butthole Surfers at the dawn of the ’90s, playing banjo-fiddle-upright bass covers of “Raw Power” and “Master Of Puppets” as well as originals and hillbilly chestnuts done at crystal-meth tempos. Brooklyn-based sextet O’Death don’t exactly do that; but they have a similar feel, and with some sonic weirdness reminiscent of Tom Waits albums like Mule Variations and Bone Machine added to the mix. [Read the rest, including an interview with two of the bandmembers, here.]
"Ground Stump"
from Head Home (Ernest Jennings)
Bluegrass is close enough to punk that it’s no surprise a few acts have just jammed the two together—most notably the Bad Livers, who toured opening for the Butthole Surfers at the dawn of the ’90s, playing banjo-fiddle-upright bass covers of “Raw Power” and “Master Of Puppets” as well as originals and hillbilly chestnuts done at crystal-meth tempos. Brooklyn-based sextet O’Death don’t exactly do that; but they have a similar feel, and with some sonic weirdness reminiscent of Tom Waits albums like Mule Variations and Bone Machine added to the mix. [Read the rest, including an interview with two of the bandmembers, here.]
Friday, June 08, 2007
NEXT WEEK IN THE VOICE
Free at Last
Avant-jazz titans the David S. Ware Quartet triumphantly disband—sort of
"I didn't disband the group," says saxophonist David S. Ware by phone from his home in Plainfield, N.J. "We came off tour in Europe two months ago." There's been some confusion of late, see, because a recent live album, Renunciation (AUM Fidelity), documents last year's final U.S. performance by the David S. Ware Quartet, one of the longest-running groups in New York free jazz. He says the group will reconvene for European festivals or one-offs if the money's right, but his bandmates seem comfortable with the idea of moving on to the next step in their individual musical journeys. And as far as American audiences are concerned, the David S. Ware Quartet is no more, period.
Ware claims not to see what the big deal is. "We don't work in America anyway," he says. "I coulda said that a long time ago. We almost never work in America—America's such a superficial place, full of superficial people. It doesn't even matter."
But to some of us, it does. [Read the rest here.]
Avant-jazz titans the David S. Ware Quartet triumphantly disband—sort of
"I didn't disband the group," says saxophonist David S. Ware by phone from his home in Plainfield, N.J. "We came off tour in Europe two months ago." There's been some confusion of late, see, because a recent live album, Renunciation (AUM Fidelity), documents last year's final U.S. performance by the David S. Ware Quartet, one of the longest-running groups in New York free jazz. He says the group will reconvene for European festivals or one-offs if the money's right, but his bandmates seem comfortable with the idea of moving on to the next step in their individual musical journeys. And as far as American audiences are concerned, the David S. Ware Quartet is no more, period.
Ware claims not to see what the big deal is. "We don't work in America anyway," he says. "I coulda said that a long time ago. We almost never work in America—America's such a superficial place, full of superficial people. It doesn't even matter."
But to some of us, it does. [Read the rest here.]
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
WEDNESDAY MORNING SHUFFLE
13 songs by Deftones, who I'm hoping to go see on Friday night:
"No Ordinary Love" (B-Sides And Rarities)
"Knife Prty" (White Pony)
"Combat" (Saturday Night Wrist)
"Back To School (Mini Maggit)" (White Pony)
"Korea" (White Pony)
"Battle-Axe" (Deftones)
"Rickets" (Around The Fur)
"Good Morning Beautiful" (Deftones)
"RX Queen" (White Pony)
"Anniversary Of An Uninteresting Event" (Deftones)
"Mascara" (Around The Fur)
"Mein" (Saturday Night Wrist)
"Passenger" (White Pony)
"No Ordinary Love" (B-Sides And Rarities)
"Knife Prty" (White Pony)
"Combat" (Saturday Night Wrist)
"Back To School (Mini Maggit)" (White Pony)
"Korea" (White Pony)
"Battle-Axe" (Deftones)
"Rickets" (Around The Fur)
"Good Morning Beautiful" (Deftones)
"RX Queen" (White Pony)
"Anniversary Of An Uninteresting Event" (Deftones)
"Mascara" (Around The Fur)
"Mein" (Saturday Night Wrist)
"Passenger" (White Pony)
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
THIS MONTH IN RELIX
VARIOUS ARTISTS
Cult Cargo: Grand Bahama Goombay
Numero Group
This is a pretty much staggeringly awesome compilation of Bahamian funk from the late '60s and early '70s by artists you're virtually guaranteed never to have heard of before today. There are few lilting, reggae-inflected grooves here (the primary exception being the Mustangs' "The Time For Loving Is Now"), as one might expect from the denizens of a balmy island nation. No, the artists on Grand Bahama Goombay were the equals of their U.S. soul brethren, cranking up the distorted organs and picking guitars in perfect, James Brown-esque chicken style. There are some remakes of American songs here - Jay Mitchell takes on "Mustang Sally," while Esquires LTD work up a raucous version of "Theme From Shaft" that sounds like Chief Ebenezer Obey fronting a garage band. Vocalists on this disc run the gamut from the sweet female group the Gospel Chandeliers ("Honesty Is The Best Policy") to Mitchell's raw-throated belting on "Tighter & Tighter." Beyond its purely musical joys, this compilation documents a culture coming into its own - the Bahamas declared independence in 1973, and these songs, particularly those by Mitchell and Frank Penn, are as much about establishing an identity as they are about making pop hits. Just as American soul became a primary voice of the Civil Rights movement in the South, these Bahamian artists were expressing something ineffable and unique on their own terms, in their own communities. But, naturally, the primary reason to own this record is that it kicks incredible amounts of ass.
Cult Cargo: Grand Bahama Goombay
Numero Group
This is a pretty much staggeringly awesome compilation of Bahamian funk from the late '60s and early '70s by artists you're virtually guaranteed never to have heard of before today. There are few lilting, reggae-inflected grooves here (the primary exception being the Mustangs' "The Time For Loving Is Now"), as one might expect from the denizens of a balmy island nation. No, the artists on Grand Bahama Goombay were the equals of their U.S. soul brethren, cranking up the distorted organs and picking guitars in perfect, James Brown-esque chicken style. There are some remakes of American songs here - Jay Mitchell takes on "Mustang Sally," while Esquires LTD work up a raucous version of "Theme From Shaft" that sounds like Chief Ebenezer Obey fronting a garage band. Vocalists on this disc run the gamut from the sweet female group the Gospel Chandeliers ("Honesty Is The Best Policy") to Mitchell's raw-throated belting on "Tighter & Tighter." Beyond its purely musical joys, this compilation documents a culture coming into its own - the Bahamas declared independence in 1973, and these songs, particularly those by Mitchell and Frank Penn, are as much about establishing an identity as they are about making pop hits. Just as American soul became a primary voice of the Civil Rights movement in the South, these Bahamian artists were expressing something ineffable and unique on their own terms, in their own communities. But, naturally, the primary reason to own this record is that it kicks incredible amounts of ass.
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