Cerca:murmur

Memories are, to say the least, complex. They can weigh us down like stones or be treasured in their unresolved ambivalence. In Ciro Vitiello’s debut album, they take on a dynamic and elusive nature, both bouncy and tricky, moving away when approached and dipping into the haze of the subconscious. Dreams, in turn, find their shape through memory itself. The Island Of Bouncy Memories is, for Vitiello, a place populated by reveries and hypnagogic impressions, interwoven with the imprints of childhood experiences—a threshold between the comforting embrace of nostalgia and the acceptance of adulthood.

The album's inception traces back to a collection of toy recordings initially amassed by Vitiello as a backdrop for his wide-weave synthetic fabric. Evolving these initial sketches, the Naples-born artist intended the 13 tracks to form a continuous flux of undeciphered impressions. Repeating motifs phase in and out of the cloudy ambience, punctuating the inevitable waves of melancholy with delicate melodic structures.

Crucial to the album's development were contributions from vocalist Zimmy, vocalist/guitarist CRÆBABE and guitarist Attilio Novellino. Their input not only expanded the sonic palette but also cultivated themes and poetic scenarios through intense and sincere exchanges of personal experiences, recurring dreams, and childhood remembrances. CRÆBABE’s lyrics, in particular, provide an adult counterpoint to the album's more childlike elements—a map of murmured relics and epiphanies as she sits in conversation with herself.

The music's emotional depth envelops Vitiello's Island in an ocean of pure sensitivity, its tides drifting through apparitions of talking animals, reminiscent of those in his recurring dreams. At other times, it reflects the tragic echoes of Nisida—an island off the coast of Naples, infamous for hosting a youth detention center.

The Island of Bouncy Memories is a meditative reconnection with the past, a puzzling journey through pain and acceptance. Notably it marks the first-ever co-production between Hundebiss and Haunter Records, uniting two main players in the Italian electronic and experimental scene in an unprecedented collaboration.

Dwell Time II is the second part of a three-part project on Past Inside The Present from T.R. Jordan. Each of the albums was made using the same material in the same time frame, and they are all part of one overarching and coherent suite that he refers to as "musical composting." This is the cassette tape version and it is full of grainy, fluttering howls, soft warbling pads, pastoral references like flowing streams and mossy rocks and plenty of grand spatial elegance that harks back to the likes of Hiroshi Yoshimura and early Brian Eno experiments. Another immersive offering from this fine label, then.

What a difference a year makes, right? HOUSE Of ALL's follow-up to their self-titled debut came about at some risk to band and label . . . so absolutely sure of their debut, Martin Bramah asked for an advance on recording costs for the follow-up before their self-titled album had even been released. Needless to say, things went pretty well with the debut, which led to a few sold-out tours, wildly enthusiastic press and great sales. Follow-ups do come with perils, but perhaps Bramah's presumption was the very thing which has allowed CONTINUUM to escape the dread second album syndrome, because . . . it's fantastic! Whatever initial re-establishment of synaptic connection was needed to get things grooving on their debut, after many years since they'd last played together (excepting Peter Greenway, whose genuine bravery in joining four former members of The Fall whom he alone had never played with before) is history now. The grooves are bigger, the lyrics brilliant, Tomos Williams' production is top-notch and the necessity sitting on this album while the first one kept on rolling offered the advantage of allowing Dave Trumfio (of The Mekons and Pulsars) time to fine-tune the mixing and mastering . . . and it sounds HOT.

My Back Was A Bridge For You To Cross, ANOHNI"s sixth studio album, expresses a world view by shape-shifting through a broad range of subject matter. Through a personal lens, ANOHNI addresses loss of loved ones, inequality, alienation, acceptance, cruelty, ecocide, devastation wrought by Abrahamic theologies, Future Feminism, and the possibility that we might yet transform our ways of thinking, our spiritual ideas, our societal structures, and our relationships with the rest of nature. On her first full album since 2016"s HOPELESSNESS, she explains the creative process was painstaking, yet also inspired, joyful, and intimate, a renewal and a renaming of her response to the world as she sees it. "Some of these songs respond to global and environmental concerns first voiced in popular music over 50 years ago." ANOHNI"s approach since her last record has shifted from someone tasked with challenging global denial, to an artist seeking to support others on the front lines. "I learned with HOPELESSNESS that I can provide a soundtrack that might fortify people in their work, in their activism, in their dreaming and decision-making. I can sing of an awareness that makes others feel less alone, people for whom the frank articulation of these frightening times is not a source of discomfort but a cause for identification and relief. On "It Must Change," ANOHNI soulfully describes systems in collapse with a note of compassion for humanity: "The truth is I always thought you were beautiful in your own way // That"s why this is so sad." ANOHNI"s voice is sensual and smoothed, selectively reaching to the edges of what it can contain. "We"re not getting out of here // No one"s getting out of here // This is our world," she murmurs. A portrait of legendary human rights activist Marsha P. Johnson taken by Alvin Baltrop features on the cover, reflecting a 25-year relationship with the memory of Johnson that ANOHNI has held space for in the presentation of her own work. Elsewhere, the album artwork states "IT"S TIME TO FEEL WHAT"S REALLY HAPPENING". In some ways it feels as if she is reaching across her life"s expression, and has found a moment of unique composure, wearing her long exploration of disarming intensity, with the maturity of a painter carefully choosing her colors. "I want the work to be useful, to help others move through these conversations we are now facing, to move with dignity and resilience through this bitter dawning."

First compiled as a double CD in 2002, Moon's Milk (in Four Phases) is a suite of four EPs that Coil released seasonally via their in-house Eskaton imprint across 1998. The line-up for these sessions were John Balance, Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson, Drew McDowall, and William Breeze. Recorded primarily at their home studio in Chiswick, London on the eve of a permanent relocation to the small seaside town of Weston-Super-Mare, the collection has long loomed as a pivotal and pinnacle work in the group's discography, but has never been officially reissued, or repressed on vinyl. Time has only ripened its tapestry of regal strangeness. Arranged sequentially in tribute to the equinoxes and solstices, Moon's Milk captures Coil at a revelatory crossroads, leaning deeper into improvisation, spontaneity, and sound design. "Moon's Milk or Under an Unquiet Skull" initiates the proceedings on Spring Equinox, a two-part netherworld organ séance woven from vocal drones, cathedral keys, seasick strings, and opiated undertow. From there, Summer Solstice skews lighter but no less incantational, with Balance embracing his voice-as-instrument across lucid dream torch songs ("Bee Stings"), purgatorial spoken word ("Glowworms/Waveforms"), sultry chamber pieces ("Summer Substructures"), and falsetto ravings ("A Warning From The Sun (For Fritz)"). Autumn Equinox exudes more of a pensive and twilit mood, from the Rose McDowall-sung folk ballad "Rosa Decidua" ("I hear your voice sing near to me / I've put away the poisoned chalice (for now) / And lie down amongst the flowerbeds") to hall-of-lords hallucination "The Auto-Asphyxiating Hierophant" to the liminal string-plucked classic "Amethyst Deceivers," featuring excellent alien guitar by Breeze layered with Balance's oft-quoted couplet: "Pay your respects to the vultures / For they are your future." The album's final chapter, Winter Solstice, is its most swooning, remote, and ceremonial. Opener "A White Rainbow" stirs strings, layered choral vocals, and shivering rhythm into an imploding burial hymn. "North" oscillates bleakly, a ghost in the machine murmuring opaque prophecy ("This black dog has no owner / This black dog has no odour"), while "Magnetic North" is its inverse, a guided meditation of gently flickering software and surreal chakra poetics ("Red rose filling the skull / Yellow cube in the lower pelvis / Silver moon crescent below the navel"). The suite fades to grey with a traditional English carol ("Christmas Is Now Drawing Near"), rendered like an executioner's song by Rose McDowall's doomed, beautiful voice. The Dais box set includes the entirety of the rare Moon's Milk Bonus Disc CD-R / 2019 Threshold Archives Copal CD, which includes three collaborations with Thighpaulsandra. This material is as rich and intoxicating as the previous four phases, ranging from electro-acoustic singing bowl rituals ("Copal") to dissonant electronic recitations of visionary Angus MacLise poetry ("The Coppice Meat") to ominous classical melancholia ("Bankside"). Once again, Coil confirm the vastness of their confounding, infinite alchemy, explored and refined across decades of experimentation - both sonic and bodily. From postindustrial to post-everything, theirs is an art untethered, in the wilds of its own design.

Straddling the elusive boundary between the corporeal and the transcendent, Montreal-based psych-pop band Elephant Stone has cemented its reputation as a band deeply invested in probing the contours of dreams and consciousness. Over a 14-year odyssey, their sonic tapestry has evolved into a rich and intricate form of art, capable of capturing the boundless terrain of human emotion and cognition. Set for release on February 23rd 2024, their upcoming album, ‘Back Into the Dream’, serves as the ultimate culmination of this musical evolution, offering listeners an entrancing passage through realms of introspection and wonder. The band's driving force, Rishi Dhir, has an innate ability to bare his soul through music, plumbing the depths of his vulnerabilities and musings. "I'm often caught in the web of intense, recurring dreams, which I think reflect my ongoing quest for identity and a sense of belonging," Rishi divulges. Centred on the enigma of dreams—whether they're subconscious murmurings or portals to parallel universes—’Back Into the Dream’ encapsulates the eternal cycle of waking and dreaming. “We're perpetually oscillating between two realms, trying to comprehend each," says Rishi. "If our music can serve as a bridge between these worlds, then we've accomplished our mission

Following on from their contribution to theButter SessionsCome Togethercompilation released in March this year, Melbourne'sPolitodeliver their debut EPUltraparallel.Politois the collaboration between musicians Robert Downie and Finnian Langham and dancers Arabella Frahn-Starkieand Hillary Goldsmith. The ensemble integrates improvised techno and contemporary dance to form well-considered and captivating performances. The spirit of these performances are masterfully captured on the 12" record. On the transition between mediums, the group states; "we always aim to capture the unpredictability and liveliness of our improvised performances when we record, and try to sculpt the feeling of continuous movement which is so intrinsically tied to Polito's identity."

Ultraparallelconsists of four tracks that were extracted from studio sessions, emerging organically whilst jamming. The EP's introductionHornet's Webwields mutilated samples of vocals and spoken word, paired with abrupt rhythms to forge anomalous techno. The eponymous trackUltraparallel, recorded in 2018, is a dark and brooding arrangement with a murmuring melody and an infectious recurring bassline. Polito reflects; "this track is from the first batch of studio sessions we had as Polito where our intention was to create more discrete 'tracks' which could be played by DJs, rather than the longform compositions more similar to the live performances which we had recorded up to that point."

Turning the record over,Seventh Limbembodies the music for dance nuance by infusing dub with sounds from outer-space. Polito reveals; "we wanted to explore creating something more in line with the mood of our live performances, which are typically slower and have a rather meditative atmosphere. The more relaxed tempo allows the dancers to move at a sustainable pace and gives the musicians more space to prepare and manipulate the various musical elements in real-time. The result is our first formal exploration of 'the chugger.'"Ultraparallel'sfinaleSublunaryis a playful sequence mingling electronics with an airy clarinet and saxophone.

Attuned to their audience,Politoimagines how their music will be consumed throughout the creative process. They comment "while making music in the studio, we try to transport ourselves mentally to hypothetical dancefloors the music we're making could be played on, adding moments and sounds which would excite, energise, disorient, or have some other desired somatic effect. We're also considering not just how the music sounds, but how it would 'feel' when played on large sound systems."Ultraparallelultimatelypresents a refreshing visual take on literal dance music; a considered and holistic approach to enhancing the experience of listening and moving.

Thee Alcoholics are the brainchild of Rhys Llewellyn, a longtime Rocket Recordings alumnus whose background leans as heavily into the bassbin-shaking realms of electronic music as it does the tinnitus-inducing world of howling, cranked-up ampstacks. Not content with hammering drumskins for numerous floor-shaking records on the Rocket discography from the likes of Hey Colossus and The Notorious Hi-Fi Killers, he’s also been responsible for brain-rearranging electronic works under the Drmcnt and Acidliner monikers. Thee Alcoholics, however - which initially gestated as a result of Rhys himself wanting to pursue the somewhat hostile sound in his own head during lockdown - maps out a collision course between all of the above. Cranky and cantankerous yet lysergically aligned, Feedback is mesmeric rock with swagger, warped into sci-fi shapes by the spirit and sonics of bass and soundsystem culture. The psychedelic shapes here are redolent of the ur-klang of The Fall and the monolithic lurch of The Heads, the motorik malevolence less an uplifting trip to the heavens than a drill down to the earth’s core. Discernible in these jackhammer beats, grimly murmured vocals and delirious dirges to certain heads may be the trash futurism of Chrome, the decomposed stomp of unsung legends Earl Brutus and the electro-punk attack of Six Finger Satellite, yet all of the above co-ordinates are waylaid effortlessly by a balls-out intensity and a 6 fearsome intent on aural oblivion at all costs. Feedback may be elemental and primal, yet this is no psych comfort-blanket nor retrofetishism, rather a repetition-driven journey headlong into intimidating territory unknown. Get on board and strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride.

Part of a (very) loose but somewhat like minded kaleidoscope where one can trace something like a Portuguese hauntology, centred around labels like Russian Library or Prisma Sonora Records, Alexandre Centeio joins Discrepant with the surefire release of 'Panorama'. A multi-instrumentalist and sound artist based in Porto, Centeio - who is also part of Stellarays and The Murmurous Playground - delivers his second album under his own name after 2022's 'Movanta'.

Signalling a departure from the intimate synth driven beautifully soothing landscapes of 'Movanta' while still working within a realm where space and memory play a significant part of both escapism and connection, 'Panorama' opens itself up to a "surrealistic soundscape filled with real and dreamt sound", perfectly illustrated by Ruca Bourbon’s artwork. A sonic fiction conjured from a variety of sources - hand drums, disembodied voices, scraps of unknown realities, skewed loops, oneiric collages, flutes, spectral synths - that float freely between disruption and continuity but within their own internal logic. A very particular and hallucinatory one at that, mind ya. Collapsing notions of time and geography in an aural canvas totally aligned with Discrepant's ethos. 'Panorama' indeed.

Telephone Explosion proudly presents the self-titled debut LP from Toronto’s UH HUH, out physically and digitally on April 14, 2023. The album features eight tracks of dub-damaged art rock which conjure a potent vision of spaced-out 1980s post-punks feeding their angular rhythms and bass-heavy grooves through layer upon layer of grime-spattered spring reverb.

There is a palpable sense of discovery and exploration throughout UH HUH’s 37 heady minutes. Elastic basslines and serpentine guitar phrases throb and glide, cutting through dubwise reverberations like hands moving through an opaque cloud of reefer smoke.

Formerly known as Teenanger, the reconfigured (and reinvigorated) group’s newfound sense of sonic identity is put on display the moment the door kicks open. The percolating spaciousness of opener “Somewhere Beyond” is followed by the cyclical grooves of “Redemption Pause.” Vocalists Christopher Swimmings and Melissa Ball each take respective turns at lead vocal duties, showcasing their contrasting yet complimentary styles.

“Babylon”, a slab of overcast, loping funk features both singers on the same track, alternating between Swimmings’ stoned syncopation and Ball’s saccharine melancholy. This juxtaposition leans against a backdrop of reverb-soaked drums, watery guitar chords and rippling trumpet.

The slinking, fractured grooves of “Rain (In The Afternoon)” and “Citrus Song” call to mind the deranged minimal dub-wave of Naffi or Vivien Goldman. Both songs feature lyrical content heavily inspired by the Florida swamplands, although the aural landscape on these tracks is decidedly more brutalist than Boca Raton. Two of the songs included here are reworkings of previously released Teenanger numbers. “Blinds Drawn” is reduced to its core elements of bottom-heavy rhythm, spliced guitar shanks and Swimmings’ murmured ruminations. “Good, You”, on the other hand, is completely re-imagined as a blissed-out melt of opiated bossa nova.

After countless hours of experimentation during the album’s recording sessions at Toronto’s Studio Z, the band decided to send their drum machines, snare drums and percussion through an obscure 1960’s Japanese Guyatone guitar amp with a notoriously ecstatic spring reverb sound. The result was immediately inspiring.

The dank, busted and clanking tones produced by the Guyatone evoke a muggy, humid atmosphere that mimics the photo on UH HUH’s cover. The process of re-amping is literally the means through which UH HUH found the sound of this record. UH HUH is a record that asks more questions than it does provide answers. This is searching music that requires that the listener lean into it, the more time you spend in between the beats, bars, notes contained within, the more vivid the picture becomes.

2023 Repress

It's the quiet ones we should watch, they always say. Which is particularly astute advice right now, when loud, constant self-declaration and saturated 'brand' visibility have become the norm. But above the babble and brightness, some voices will always speak quiet volumes ­- with calm eloquence and the kind of certitude that comes from valuing the playing out, not just the prize.

Sweden's José González is just such a voice. He first charmed his way into the UK's earshot via the murmurous and elegant, classically finger-picked folk pop of his 2005 album, Veneer, which has since sold over a staggering 430, 000 copies in UK alone. Two years later came In Our Nature, a further exploration of José's influences (Argentinian Folklore, the '60s US folk tradition and the British pastoral folk-pop style of the same era), on which he resisted the temptation to beef up his alluringly introvert aesthetic. The albums made the UK Top 10 and Top 20 respectively.

Conceived as the natural third part in an acoustic trilogy, Vestiges & Claws is a(nother) hushed and delicate solo set that forefronts the artist and guitarist's compellingly intimate vocal style and intricate playing technique, but it's often strikingly rhythmic in nature and cohere's perfectly, with hand claps and taps on the body of his instrument underlining the songs' mantric rise-and-fall pattern, while elsewhere, over-dubbed guitar parts and multi-tracked vocal harmonies entwine to sweetly immersive effect.

The title refers to both cultural practices and biological features that survive despite having lost their original function, and to currently useful tools, ie the 'claws' of modern life.

Vestiges & Claws was recorded almost entirely by José and self-produced, mostly in his Gothenburg home, using computer plug-ins to achieve a warm, analogue sound. He prefers working alone, mainly for artistic reasons. 'There were a couple of things that enabled me to complete this record: one was curiosity, to be able to play percussion and do a lot of harmonies and also to produce and mix the album; the other was aesthetics. I love to listen to Arthur Russell and Shuggie Otis, to music that has been done mostly by one person in their solitary state.'

As José sees it, the record is his personal, 'zoomed-out eye on humanity on a small, pale blue dot in a cold, sparse and unfriendly space. The amazing fact that we are all here, an attempt at encouraging us to understand ourselves and to make the best of the one life we know we have - after birth and before death.

Corey Fuller and Tomoyoshi Date are the Illuha duo but for this new Tobira album they link with percussionist Tatsuhisa Yamamoto. He is a skilled drummer who has worked alone on Black Truffle but has also collaborated with Jim O'Rourke, Eiko Ishibashi, Keiji Haino, Phew and Oren Ambarchi among others. This new record focusses on electro-acoustic sounds that are run through with all manner of precise sonic details and are carried by Yamamoto's unique playing style and singular sense of groove which were recorded over two sessions. That playing style finds him playing very lightly with closely mic'ed drums so plenty of softness is captured and then interwoven with layers of Rhodes, piano, distant synths and metallic murmurations.

Ben Sterling joins Damian Lazarus’ renowned Crosstown Rebels imprint, partnering with Caitlyn Scarlett for ‘Don’t Truss’.

Building on the release of arguably one of the tracks of 2022 with his remix of Tiga’s iconic ‘Mind Dimension 2’, UK hotshot and Planet X boss Ben Sterling has made 2023 another year of raising the levels, with his debut on Solomon’s Diynamic becoming an instant summer anthem in the midst of his busiest summer to date. Adding yet another huge label debut to the mix, he continues to showcase his range across house music as Damian Lazarus invites him to Crosstown Rebels for the first time, partnering with singer/songwriter Caitlyn Scarlett for ‘Don’t Truss’ on the revered imprint.

A rolling and crisp production with Scarlett’s alluring and hooky vocals at its core, it’s easy to see why ‘Don’t Truss’ has become a stand-out track from Sterling’s own sets across the globe over the past 12 months. Fusing tightly programmed percussion, warped murmurs, and a slinking, snaking groove, it’s a track crafted for the dancefloor, moving crowds unison and leaving a lasting impact. On the flip, ‘Bring Me To The Surface’ is a groove-led and bubbling cut that keeps the energy levels with skittering drums, acid-dipped basslines, resonant synths and yet more vibrant vocals.

"Creating this record took me around 2 years, I was moving quite a bit, without a steady working or living space, travelling and playing live again for the first time since the pandemic. At first there was creative insecurity and many abandoned ideas, I wanted to make something special for YUKU but everything felt dry and soulless. In my head this was supposed to be a dancefloor record, but this idea quickly became an obstruction in my creative flow.

During this time I started learning modular synthesis, and although there was definitely a learning curve this method of making music gave the record direction and refreshed my way to approach composition. It is also very fun to learn. What came out is a collage of sorts that is more honest and reflective of my emotions and those of the people and spaces that I have exchanged with. Thanks to YUKU and the amazing people that took part in this record and in my life in the past two years. Hope you all enjoy."

- Joaquin Cornejo

Whispers is the first proper P.G. Six album since 2011"s Starry Mind. Time passes slowly, as they"ve been known to say out in the country, and before you know it, there"s a bunch of it behind you. After five releases in the first decade of P.G. Six, it may seem a bit of a surprise to have not heard something new in the past twelve years - but a cursory listen to Murmurs & Whispers will answer why, as the deep acoustic focus of the tracks imply an investment of the type of compassion and understanding that takes time and concentrated effort to conjure. Additionally, Pat Gubler"s always got a few pots going at once in his ever-expanding musical universe. He"s been active since the mid-90s, first with Memphis Luxure and Tower Recordings, then as P.G. Six, and as a member of Metal Mountains, Wet Tuna, Garcia Peoples and Weeping Bong Band. Additionally, some time was spent making collaborative records with Dan Melchior (in 2019) and Louise Bock (in 2021). Pat"s been playing the harp for more years than he"s been in bands, but when he realized that he was writing a set of songs centered around harp compositions, he spent some time in the woodshed with his instrument, a late 80s model Triplett Celtic 34 String Harp (which replaced a lovely Paraguayan harp he"d played for years previously). After the previous P.G. albums of electric band arrangements, he was in a place of writing songs with more silence in them. He ended up playing a lot of the parts himself on Murmurs & Whispers, adding guitar, bass, keyboards, recorder and hurdy gurdy, in addition to his harp and vocals. Clark Griffin and Wednesday Knudson, who Pat plays with in Weeping Bong Band, played and sang a bit themselves, and the record was recorded piece by piece in houses around upstate New York by Mike Fellows. Returning to the quiet acoustic sound of the first couple of P.G. Six albums, Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites (which has seen a much-needed reissue in the past year after too many years OOP) and The Well of Memory, Murmurs & Whispers is more straightforward in expressing its vision of rural celestial wonder. Bucolic and comfortably lived in, Murmurs & Whispers nonetheless projects the transcendent heart of P.G. Six once again, and as ever, it is magnificent to hear it passing through us.

Whispers is the first proper P.G. Six album since 2011"s Starry Mind. Time passes slowly, as they"ve been known to say out in the country, and before you know it, there"s a bunch of it behind you. After five releases in the first decade of P.G. Six, it may seem a bit of a surprise to have not heard something new in the past twelve years - but a cursory listen to Murmurs & Whispers will answer why, as the deep acoustic focus of the tracks imply an investment of the type of compassion and understanding that takes time and concentrated effort to conjure. Additionally, Pat Gubler"s always got a few pots going at once in his ever-expanding musical universe. He"s been active since the mid-90s, first with Memphis Luxure and Tower Recordings, then as P.G. Six, and as a member of Metal Mountains, Wet Tuna, Garcia Peoples and Weeping Bong Band. Additionally, some time was spent making collaborative records with Dan Melchior (in 2019) and Louise Bock (in 2021). Pat"s been playing the harp for more years than he"s been in bands, but when he realized that he was writing a set of songs centered around harp compositions, he spent some time in the woodshed with his instrument, a late 80s model Triplett Celtic 34 String Harp (which replaced a lovely Paraguayan harp he"d played for years previously). After the previous P.G. albums of electric band arrangements, he was in a place of writing songs with more silence in them. He ended up playing a lot of the parts himself on Murmurs & Whispers, adding guitar, bass, keyboards, recorder and hurdy gurdy, in addition to his harp and vocals. Clark Griffin and Wednesday Knudson, who Pat plays with in Weeping Bong Band, played and sang a bit themselves, and the record was recorded piece by piece in houses around upstate New York by Mike Fellows. Returning to the quiet acoustic sound of the first couple of P.G. Six albums, Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites (which has seen a much-needed reissue in the past year after too many years OOP) and The Well of Memory, Murmurs & Whispers is more straightforward in expressing its vision of rural celestial wonder. Bucolic and comfortably lived in, Murmurs & Whispers nonetheless projects the transcendent heart of P.G. Six once again, and as ever, it is magnificent to hear it passing through us.

If your brain has a shortlist of bands that instantly evoke New Wave, Suburban Lawns deserve a slot right next to the likes of Devo, Talking Heads and the B-52’s. After putting out two singles on their own Suburban Industrial imprint, the Lawns signed to I.R.S. Records and released their debut LP in 1981. While the band gained cult status thanks in part to a Jonathan Demme-produced music video which aired on Saturday Night Live, their self-titled album would sadly be the five-piece’s only full-length statement. Suburban Lawns’ asymmetrical aesthetic is personified by co-vocalist Su Tissue, whose mesmerizing stage persona was at once childlike and terrifying. Her unique style embodies the awkward/arty female singer of the Reagan era, while the group’s male vocals—courtesy of Frankie Ennui, Vex Billingsgate and John McBurney—maintain the satirical themes of Southern California’s postwar mirage of limitless sprawl. Suburban Lawns’ catchiness can be attributed to their drum-tight performance and taut songwriting. Listen to the vocal trade-offs on “Anything,” which could have easily come out on any purely Punk label from LA at the time, while Tissue’s deadpan delivery on “Janitor” glides into the best art-warble this side of Lene Lovich, broaching the possibility of nuclear annihilation with a murmured “Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom.” From a West Coast scene dominated by 7-inch singles and EPs, the Suburban Lawns’ lone LP remains in a class with precious few. It’s not surprising that they found acceptance in the Hollywood punk scene, despite their Long Beach roots, and would influence other bands such as Minutemen. This is not a disc that will get parked in your collection hoping to get pulled once in a while; this is a record you will play.

Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin (Fourteen Reflections on the End) originated from an installation exhibited at the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo de Oaxaca, Mexico, in 2019. Fourteen magnetic bodies of tape that dialogued with the fourteen pieces of electroacoustic music now contained in this album composed from the sound anthology of Angélica Castelló. Thus, Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin is a complex piece consisting of multiple parts that, although articulated with each other, hold a life of their own.

Like every body, these have a unique history made up of mixed fragments spun by Angélica, ranging from field recordings, references, and self-references to previous pieces, experiences, and voice recordings made specifically for these compositions re-recorded in various formats, from lo to high fidelity, analog and digital, composed, decomposed and recomposed (Castelló, A., 2019). Likewise, as any body, they also reflect on their end, whether absolute or temporal, of the many ways of being finite and of saying goodbye.

During the Catorce reflexiones sobre el fin, Castelló takes you on a journey that is difficult to locate. An ethereal space between shattered glass, stridulation of cicadas, war drums, murmurs in French, Italian maledictions, and soft recitations in Spanish. From uproar to solace, all wrapped in a soft abstraction that only allows access to the subtle whisper of these expressions. A gesture between invitation and sharing because who does not recognize oneself in this emotional storm?

First, the approach of the winds, the first breeze that caresses the body. Then the bewilderment announced by the scent of uncertainty condensed in the air’s humidity. The prelude to the storm, to something that will shake you from head to toe, something from which there will be no return.

To the acceleration of the winds comes the percussions, the tremor of the storm with its lightning. la Ira (1). A vibration running through the whole body, unstoppable. This reverberating sound, resulting from its re-percussion with our body acoustics, owes its tones and echoes to the cavities and organs of different masses. From what is hollow and what is full; what is void and what is matter. There is no turning back. It is a dive into the void; to fight and resist because there is no other way to go. It is a matter of survival.

Ma fin est mon commencement Et mon commencement ma fin (2)

After this, the cicada resumes at the crack of dawn, a gentle breeze, and solitude, that temporarily musical silence of embraces (3) with hints of harpsichord and bells.

The breaking of the waves in Sicily is accompanied by the antenna that picks up radio transmissions that already invite other tastes. The Mediterranean and its currents mingle and divide tense routes of escape, exchange, and struggle between Blutorangen, tides, and birdsongs.

An immersion into deep waters.

And in the end, we all commit sins! Queste maledette! (4)

Lorena Moreno Vera, 2023

A Colourful Storm presents Seance, a new set of songs by Maxine Funke.

Following a productive recording period beginning with Silk (2018) and ending with Forest Photographer (2020), Seance marks a remarkable levitation of Funke’s tender, softly spoken songcraft first documented on Lace (2008) and Felt (2012) into new creative heights. Folksong confessionals with the burden of memory. Ghostly confines, murmurs from the cracks. Soil, blood and skin. The beauty and mundanity of the everyday.

The voice of Funke is a distinctive instrument, one which perfectly elucidates her sometimes confessional, at other times deeply inward allusions to love, loss, joy and disquiet. Lyrics grounded in observation and adventure (“Eyeballs, asphalt, grass clippings, peppercorns”) unravel into uneasy truths daubed in self-consciousness and forbidden desire (“I’m not shy / There's just a sparkle in your eye and I don't feel right”). The simplest things can be the most difficult to express.

Opener ’Fairy Baby’ and ‘Homage’ are sensuous and probing, celebrating new beginnings while cautiously closing old chapters. ‘Quiet Shore’, a seven-minute reverie of guitar strum and poetry, conjures spirits long forgotten and shines as Funke’s first solo foray into longform songwriting. A perfect accompaniment to the album’s centrepiece, ‘Lucky Penny’, a euphoric, entrancing rush foreshadowing the delicate dreamspeak still to come.

An assertive, visionary recording by one of New Zealand’s most extraordinary voices, Seance is a lover’s lament, a revealing of self and a secluded wander through fields of enchantment.

The next chapter of the Natural Information Society is here. Since Time Is Gravity, credited to Natural Information Society Community Ensemble with Ari Brown, presents a newly expanded manifestation of acclaimed composer & multi-instrumentalist Joshua Abrams nearly 15 year, 7 albums &-counting flagship ensemble. Joining the core NIS of Abrams (guimbri & bass), Lisa Alvarado (harmonium) Mikel Patrick Avery (drums) & Jason Stein (bass clarinet) are Hamid Drake (percussion), Josh Berman & Ben Lamar Gay (cornets), Nick Mazzarella & Mai Sugimoto (alto saxophones & flute), Kara Bershad (harp) & Chicago living legend of the tenor saxophone Ari Brown. Recorded live to tape at Electrical Audio & The Graham Foundation, cover painting Vibratory Cartography: Nepantla, by Lisa Alvarado. 2xLP on Eremite USA, 2xLP & CD on Aguirre/Eremite Europe. Out 14-04.

Since first developing Natural Information Society in 2010, Joshua Abrams has been gradually expanding the group’s conceptual underpinnings, its musical references & the sheer number of the group’s members. Its music is, in a sense, an expansive form of minimalism, based in repeated & overlaid rhythmic patterns, ostinatos & modality. Its roots, its scale & its meaning become clearer in time. If time is gravity, it also allows us to carry more. Having begun as fundamentally a rhythm section with Abrams’ guimbri at its core, the version here can stretch to a tentet, including six horns.

Abrams has been expanding his minimalism gradually, but he has long understood a key to minimalism’s potential: the breadth of its roots in the late 1950s & early 1960s, ranging from the dissatisfaction of young European-stream composers with the limitations of serialism to the simultaneous dissatisfaction of jazz musicians with the dense harmonic vocabulary of bop & hard bop. The former began exploring rhythmic complexity & narrow tonal palates in place of harmonic abstraction (Steve Reich’s Drumming, Philip Glass’ Music with Changing Parts; perhaps above all Terry Riley’s In C & his late ‘60s all-night organ & loop concerts); the later reduced dense chord changes to scales (signally with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, but rapidly expanding with John Coltrane’s vast project). In the 1950s the LP record opened the world with documentation of Asian & African musics, key influences on both minimalists & jazz musicians. If John Coltrane’s soprano saxophone suggested the keening shehnai of Bismillah Khan, the instrument was rapidly taken up by two key minimalists, LaMonte Young & Riley, similarly appreciative of its flexible intonation, the same thing that kept it out of big bands.

If the guimbri, the North African hide-covered lute that Abrams plays with NIS, involves a rich tradition of hypnotic healing music associated with the Gnawa people, Abrams’ music also touches on other musics as well — other depths, memories & healings, different drones, rhythms & modes. As the group expands on Since Time Is Gravity, he has made certain jazz traditions in the same stream more explicit as well. If there is a mystical & elastic quality involved in the experience of time, both in direction & duration, you will catch it here. The parts for the choir of winds expand on the roles of Abrams’ guimbri, Mikel Patrick Avery & Hamid Drake’s percussion & Lisa Alvarado’s harmonium: at times, the winds are almost looping in the tentet version, each hitting a repeating note in turn, at once drone & distinct inflection on temporal sequence. The brilliance of the work resides in Abrams’ compositions, the NIS’ intuitive execution & in Ari Brown’s singular embodiment of the great tenor saxophone tradition, including the oracular genius of Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, & Yusef Lateef. The three pieces by the expanded NIS featuring Brown —the opening “Moontide Chorus” & “Is” & the ultimate “Gravity”— have an immediate impact, & togther might be considered a kind of concerto for tenor saxophone. Here Brown presses almost indistinguishably from composed melody to improvised speech, getting so close to language that he might have a text. Everything here is a sign. Note the tap of the Rhythm Ace that links “Moontide Chorus” to “Is”, the attentive heart always present, even when signed by a machine. There’s a link here to the methodologies & meanings of dub music & the linear & vertical collage of beats, textures & tongues: treated with reverence, a sample of a beat-box can be as soulful, as hypnotic, as a mbira or a tamboura. If those pieces with Brown are heard as a suspended concerto, the three embrace & enfold the other works, like the sepals of a flower. That placement will also touch on the mysteries of our perception of time.

Particularly in “Is”, but elsewhere as well, a phenomenon of transcendence arises in which time appears to be tripartite, at once moving backwards & forwards & standing still. This is an act of technical brilliance certainly, but also an illumination of music’s ability to represent temporal consciousness through polymetrics. This particular listener has only heard it before in a few places, including the horn shouts & bowed basses of Coltrane’s Africa, in moments of Charles Mingus’ The Black Saint & the Sinner Lady, in certain pieces where tapes were literally running backwards, & earlier still in Dizzy Gillespie’s Cubana Be, Cubana Bop, in which the composer George Russell & conguero Chano Pozo found a music that spoke at once in the voices of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring & the vestigial rites, rhythms & songs of the Yoruba language & Santeria religion of inland Cuba.

In Joshua Abrams’ compositions & the realization of them by the NIS, in the time of one’s close listening & memory thereof, distinctions between the “natural” & the “social”, the “quotidian” & the “transcendent” are erased, suspended or perhaps irrelevant. Consider two of the ensemble pieces, one named for nature, the other social science. In “Murmuration” the repeated wind figures of flute & alto saxophone combine with the interlocking patterns of harp, guimbri & frame drum (tar) to create a perfect moving stillness, not an imitation but a witness to the miracle of the starlings’ astonishing collective art, a surfeit of beauty that might be the ultimate defense tactic.

“Stigmergy” takes its name & concept from the Occupy movement’s Heather Marsh, who proposes a social system based on a cooperative rather than competitive models, one in which ideas are freely contributed & developed as ideas rather than an individual’s property. In its form, Abrams’ “Stigmergy” is the closes thing to traditional jazz, a series of accompanied solos by each of the wind players. However, the composed accompaniment is a radically collectivist notion: a repeated rhythmic figure, call it ostinato or riff, in which the different winds each play only a note or two of the figure, a concept both more collectivist & individualistic in its conception than any typical unison figure. It suggests another of the underlying recognitions that propel the Natural Information Society, the group as social organism, the teleology of hypnotic anarchy, all parts in place, functioning systematically, evolving & expressing itself, its nature & society, as a transformative organism.

George Lewis has described music as “a space for reflection on the human condition”. This suggests that, rather than a “distraction”, at least some music might serve as a distraction from distraction. It’s a focus, a clarity, a awareness, an external invitation to interiority, as if music itself is a model for form & contemplation, an organism contemplating for us or as us. If that is a possibility, & I am sure I have heard such musics, than this music is among them. How many of our rhythms, melodies & harmonies (cultural, historical, biological, psychic) might such music carry, translate & transform in the particulate ecstasy of our own murmuration? (Stuart Broomer, April 2022)