Buscar:alter ego why not

Over the last 20 years, Portland, Oregon's Federale has carved out a unique niche within the indie music landscape, blending their signature spaghetti-Western instrumental sound with increasing doses of moody vocal arrangements in the spirit of Lee Hazlewood or later-period Leonard Cohen. Still, through it all songwriter (and lead singer, when there is one) Collin Hegna has maintained a strictly retro vibe, and Federale's records have always sounded period-correct for an alternate-universe 1971 where rock and roll never caught on.

Reverb & Seduction, Federale’s sixth studio album, marks the band’s 20th anniversary, and finds them beginning to color outside those Ennio Morricone lines. Perhaps Hegna—who also spent the last 20 years as a dues-paying member of The Brian Jonestown Massacre—has finally decided to give his psych-rock alter ego a seat at the Federale table.

“Before, I'd have an idea and think, ‘Well, that can't be a Federale song’, because it had distorted guitars or whatever,” says Hegna. “But then I thought, 'Well, why not?’” This openness to a broader palette of influences allows Reverb and Seduction to veer into psychedelic and even gothic territory—think Love and Rockets or Sisters of Mercy—that the 2010s Federale might have considered off limits.

The album's first single “Heaven Forgive Me,” for example, draws on Goblin (the Italian prog-rockers who scored Suspiria) and perhaps even a little Depeche Mode, while “Advice from a Stranger” borrows the fuzz and feedback of DIG!-era BJM and The Electric Prunes.

Before Madvillain, before Yesterday’s New Quintet and before Quasimoto or any other of his several alter egos, Madlib perfected his craft as an MC/producer in the Lootpack. Along with DJ Romes, and fellow rhymer Wildchild, they released the dusty full-length, Soundpieces: Da Antidote back in 1999, that laid down the foundation for the unique and dusty sound now associated with Madlib. The loose, freeform recordings on this collection are circa 1996 when the group was managed by Madlib’s father, and they show the now-renowned maverick producer in comparatively restrained form. Madlib’s scope and imagination was clearly fixated on East coast jazzy hip-hop production from the early ’90s, laying down soundscapes for his hungry crew including the likes of Kazi, Declaime and Medaphoar, who have all become well known underground rap vets. Madlib’s own strong mic presence is noticeable given his now only-on-rare-occasion rhyming, but it’s his production that is the most fascinating element here. While a resolutely hip-hop project, the burgeoning jazzy flourishes and Madlib’s heavily accomplished ear for sound makes the record an important starting point for adherents of his more recent exploratory work.

Horace Tapscott's Pan-Afrikan Peoples Arkestra (P.A.P.A.) was one of the most transformative, forward-thinking and straight-up heavy big bands to have played jazz in the 1960s and 1970s. If P.A.P.A. doesn't have the interstellar rep of that other famous Arkestra, and if the name Tapscott doesn't ring bells like Monk or Tyner, there's a reason why: in an industry dominated by record labels, a band that doesn't record doesn't count. And the Pan-Afrikan Peoples Arkestra didn't record for nearly twenty years. But recording success was never their concern -- they weren't about that. First formed as the Underground Musicians Association in the early 1960s, Tapscott always wanted his group to be a community project.

From their base in Watts, UGMA got down at the grassroots. The group was renamed the Pan-Afrikan Peoples Arkestra in 1971, and soon after they established a monthly residency at the Immanuel United Church of Christ which ran for over a decade, while still playing all over LA and beyond. But they never released a note of music. It was the intervention of fan Tom Albach that finally got them on wax. Determined that their work should be documented, Albach founded Nimbus Records specifically to release the music of Tapscott, the Arkestra, and the individuals that comprised it. The first recording sessions in early 1978 yielded enough material for two albums, and the first release was Flight 17. The album commences with the magnificent title track. It is effectively in three parts. It begins with unaccompanied pianos. Then the ensemble embark on a dense, circular and mechanical movement, a platform for horns and pianos to swoop and dive. We return to Earth with a beautiful solitary flute. The second track, the piano-centric, ‘Breeze’ is different to ‘Flight 17’ in intensity and also brevity but it is quietly as daring as the title track. It concludes with a moving lush wash from the full Arkestra, which sound almost like strings only more substantial. These first two tracks take full advantage of the texture of the unusual mix of the various instruments. Next though, it’s a significant change with ‘Horacio’, which is an exuberant Latin infused jingle. It’s unlike anything else on the album. I like to think it was named after the conductor’s Cuban alter-ego! ‘Clarisse’ gracefully switches between slow blues and bop and is bookended with a grand vaguely East Asian theme. The busy bass line introduces ‘Maui’. As with the previous track, it moves between a number of contrasting melody lines and rhythms but there’s still space for a tuneful sax solo.

This is a must-have album. I think the first two tracks on their own make this release essential. Kevin Ward/UK Vibe/Boomkat