Music: Lebaha Men "Garifuna Feild Recordings" tape

The Lebaha Men are from Belize, which is not close to Nashville except in full pan-global scope.

Which is maybe what makes Field Recording right? Escapism maybe, or a pseudo-adventurous state induced by industrialized-culture. Right?

The Grammys may be somewhere along the entrails of the luxury class/American appreciator-of-music, but they're a distant yet bright star to some, presumably, right?

One mustn't abstract too much from the socio-political implications of this tape though, lest we detract from the music, which is basically really cool. The drumming is mostly very complex, full of 32nd+ note rolls and thick with flamming and quick changes of emphasis. But it never loses the primal pulse, in spite of the heady roll-exchanges, (there are only three drummers, and their ability to play off one another is laudable/extraordinary.) The vocals are basically "ethnic" chant/call-and-response, but often quite a bit more melodic than you might expect.

Recording quality is decent, well-suited to tape, (recorded direct to cassette by Stephen Molyneaux.)

Watermelon artwork from No Kings.

Music: Ayebawl CD-R

A few times, in my general day-to-day internet reading, I've come across the phrase "Active Rock". It's pretty context-less to me, having abandoned commercial (and mostly all) radio for quite a few years. I imagine it though: the vocals are all shouted or screamed, the sharp distortion on the guitars is alternately piercing and crunchy (as described by the ads for FX pedals I've never used or heard,) the drumming may or may not involve a double kick drum pedal.

Realistically, the "Active Rock" I've read about contains up to one of these characteristics, with none of the 'tude implied. I mean, realistically the "Active Rock" I've read about is about as corporation-contrived as, say, Backstreet Boys. "Active Rock" is an ugly phrase. But let's say for a minute that it isn't, OK? That it fucking means what it says it means.

Ayebawl is fucking active rock.

Like, Tom George and Lukin Nunn, trading off on vocals, Lukin's screach is especially nuts, but exacting still and double tracked (this whole thing has a real nice, clean studio-quality,) and the guitars, man. Matt Bach's just a killer lead player. Everything's so composed, controlled, but it rips hard. And as drumming goes, there's a lot of pounding, but the number of hits and the speed never betray precision.

It's an intelligent hard core album sort of. All the thrash with none of the bonehead bullshit. Its violence is more visceral than bludgeoning, (and it is pretty fucking violent.) If you think Motorhead are pretty good, but kind of old fashioned, check it out.

Nine crazy tracks. Crazy Ed Gein artwork. Crazy, man!

Music: Hobbledeions "Asyndeton" tape

Heavy J. Bonham-meets-hypnogogic-flavored-murk at first; of course Habbledeions' Scott Martin isn't one to hang out too long on a real floored beat.

This third tape for No Kings is not a paradigm shift by any means, and really only barely an expansion of the sound Martin's been establishing since "Capisce" (perhaps with less emphasis on Dilla-esque lo-fi hip hop.)

It is, however, the best. An extremely focused effort that nevertheless trades styles, timbres and moods like an Indian. And so that heavy lump that begins Side 1 is quickly replaced by skittering fusion, then filtered noise, a tropical-pop waltz, and then this chopped and unscrewed Motown (or something) sample, over which Martin's trap set becomes some sort of lyrical rabbit, bursting down the hole. It's pretty much the best thing I've heard from Hobbledeions, and I've heard nothing but great shit.

So that's about halfway through the A side, because this is a hefty tape at 45 minutes, which is nice because a lot of what's great about the cassette, as a format, is its accomodation of lengthier albums, etc.

Vocal drone and these chopped up "eh-eh" vocal samples round out Side 1 all punk as hell.

And Side 2 starts out pretty nasty too. A Brit yelling, sampled from "The Wall" or maybe "Brazil", I've seen neither film, and the beat! Complicated but direct, it buoys pinging synth and noise and I'm at a loss for pinning its antecidents other than Can.

Most of Side 2 is pretty song-oriented, though those songs are in pieces assigned to the pads on Martin's MPC. Usually the sounds are filtered and processed, re-sampled so that exact instrumentation becomes an unnecessary means of signification. The drums too, are well-blended and I guess here's another panygeric on the cassette-medium, exemplified by this tape: natural compression, I mean Dolby filtering... It just sounds GOOD.

Later there's a real bouncy quarter note-bass/delay guitar jam that reminds: your vibes are maxing out. And fade into calming vamp. And fade.

Groovy pink-on-white, non-recycled stiff J-card, edition of 60. Highly Recomended!

Music: Dave Cloud and the Gospel of Power "Practice in the Milky Way" CD

A real problem with Dave Cloud recordings is that they always sound like Karaoke. His voice is just too bizarre/unfitting for any accompinament, however technically absorbing and/or "rockin'" the accompinament may be.

Or is it just poorly mixed? Maybe Dave has a complex where he has to hear hisself way upfront.

At any rate, this is some solid shit where Matt Bach's lead guitar and arrangements just slay trope-based/Tradition-based rock and get into real Steely Dan-territory, as far as really brainy-perfectionist composition style.

But all the "learned" instrumentation doesn't undersell the "Outsider" apeal, whether "knowing"/"unknowing". That's the weird thing about the record: these dichotomies are presented: irony/sincerity, deranged/non-deranged, but then it's mostly up to you, ya know?

They play a Sexton Ming song: "Rockin' After Midnight". It's the only cover. The originals are just as lyrically "outsidery" there's: "On your knees, in supplication," sez Mrs. Crumb in "Mrs. Crumb", the track-7 psych-out masochist-jam that serves to reinforce Cloud's preoccupation with high-literary sexual perversion.

"Before I Give You Up" is a groovy, lightly trotting Rhodes-jam. Imagine the Partridge Family let their drunken, leering uncle sit in on vocals on evening. And really this thing is all over the map style-wise
Like, the deeper into the album you get, the slightly-less freaky it gets, maybe you're just more used to the mix, or more catching the slipping referential-wave.

Solid disc of outer space-feelings from Nashville's favorite barroom conspiracy theorist. Fire Records.

Music: Clearing "No Titles" tape

For a tape called "No Titles", the insert included in this baby is chock full of titular information, but OK that's helpful sometimes, what is written.

As for audible "titles", I'd proffer "droopy-eyed synth pad-ery". Some of the sounds on the first side are booming and others are all wet with effects or detuned in interesting ways. Yes often they're interesting sounds, and always they're very static.

If that's your thing, you'll hear a lot more maybe. As background noise, I'd rate this definitely above say air conditioner or refridgerator.

Pretty good Blue v. Pink art from No Kings.

Music: Mass at Dawn "Pyramid Nipple" tape

Vintage synth fetishism from ex-wearer of large-brimmed hats, Dylan Simon.

Needless to say there are some really cool sounds here, lightly warbling and buzzing and bubbling along, sometimes with mumbled, unintelligible vocals and the recording/dubbing job being shit as it is makes this a murky mess of a record, which is really pretty pleasant.

Most of this tape is the score to every film scene where someone sits cross-legged on the floor, closes his eyes and places a tab of LSD on his tongue.

It's meditation-stuff and I'm about as non-spiritual as they come so I'll leave the mystical themes alone, but the plodding gongs and slow-attack synths should make a pretty good mantra for you Tarot and insense and couscous enthusiasts.

I actually like couscous a lot, and I understand it's quite healthy. I like it with cabbage and, uh there you go, that's my review.

Music: Monsters on Television "Life is So Bizarre" LP

Well-travelled ground/bar chord garage rock/definitely has like that '95/'85/'75 feel, which is maybe to say this is that kind of "timeless" Rock, capital R, all that shit.

It's pretty charming, I guess. Front-man, Brad Sunflower's voice reminds me at times of David Thomas, but less weird, more slacker-stoned.

As far as good songs, there's "Comin' Down", "You Lookin' at Me Weird" and the title track, all of which you've pretty much heard before, which makes them stick in your brain even a little more.

The sound of a minimum-wage job, Mexican Strat and mid-grade marijuana. Really nice screen-printed art. Cleft Music label.

Music: Forrest Bride "Cats with Wings" LP

The centerpieces of this album are the instrumental tracks that open both sides. but there are vocal numbers too:

"Blue Tiger" is the most "pretty" track, vague pentatonic melody that Amy Marcantel's vocal harmonies fill out well, plus lifted moving-bass. Probably the best of the sung tracks. Next "Massacre at Ludlow" is pretty good Radiohead-pastiche but Ben Marcantel's singing is unfortunately muffled by gear affects that squash out the overtones of his voice. "String and Glue", lyrically, is as "twee" as the title implies, but the instruments are "gussied up" the way Adrian Belew "gussied up" Tom Tom Club's "Loreleai", all stuttering atonality and sound-effects, with a little more Folk-feel.

But the meticulously crafted instrumental tracks are where the Marcantels' strengths really lie. "Circa 1973", the sound collage that opens the album is wonderful, gradually building from skuttling noise loops into a two-piano Cosmic-assault with out ever feeling like it's "building" at all. This morphs, briefly, into a feminine kind of Fantasy-Simple xylophone interlude, before Scott Martin's drums first introduce themselves under cut-and-paste organ and slow-attack synth, interupted by these violin upper-cuts just before the denouement, real "feminine "narrative" kind of stuff that lacks an obviously climax but substitutes lots of little peaks in circular fashion.

Marcantel's production is great: it never sounds showy, (except maybe once on Side B where I noticed a tom-tom annoyingly drifting across the stero-spectrum,) but it's meticulous.

Side B's "Death Kit" is the first time the album ever really sounds at all like the "electric era Miles" suggested on the little paper insert that comes with the record. It's more like metal-fusion though; Scott Martin's drumming is especially unhinged with an insistent single-note bass line that charges everything into some super-charged future-war, saxophones wounded-wail, dissonant synthesizers buzz along and melt, and all the sudden there's this lifted lilting piano chord like "walk towards the light" type thing, but still, a glimpse of  the past as evil saxes dance back in, filtered and fading.

Closer, "Living Coral" has a dinstinctly M.O.R.-jazz deep-cut vibe like something on Side 4 of a mid-70's Chicago album, which is pretty fantastic if you ask me. It's interupted occasionally by buzzy angular asides on the organ, but for the most part it's lush and tacitly sensual.

Pretty well constructed album. Cover art is an owl, which I guess is what they mean by "Cat with Wings", probably because of the seing in the dark. Sebastian Speaks label. Approx. $12 at local retailers. Recomended!

Music: Gnarlwhal "Duane" CD-R

Purveyors of Progged-out Hardcore, the Little Hamilton-stapled Gnarwhal come at this 14-track (three of them interludes,) CD-album with hardened fucking Pro-chops and a "shit, whatever" attitude that jams pretty damn hard.

The angular guitars never stop, and underneath pointillistic bass and of course, Tyler Coburn's frantic-sounding but dead-accurate drumming push, pull and drive, endlessly forward.

This is some real front lobe music; it rewards close, attentive listening, and in this way it's "difficult", even though it's mostly-tonal and full of trope-based guitar techniques:

What's interesting is the disperation of the tropes: "jock-off" metal finger-tapping collides with "angst-and-fury" hardcore riffing collides with "Anglo-serious" prog collides with weirdo deconstructed pop. In this way, it's like a Zorn/Bungle assemblage, but really more cohesive than a lot of those guys' music due to the steady instrumentation/unified aesthetic.

There are lots of quick stops, changes in key, rhythmic feel, tempo, just about everything. This whole album is full of extremely complex music that hangs together well. Again, the drumming is pretty amazing throughout.

Call this Chin-Scratching Hardcore or Pop-Metal, I'm not sure. Self released, bear-themed art with jewel-case. Recomended!

Music: Ttotals "Live at Grady's" tape

This is maybe the best document of Ttotals you could ask for. The self-titled studio-record is perhaps too clear for their brand of blown-out punk-psych, which I think fairs better on this equally-blown out tape recording. It's not uncomfortably blown out; it's actually quite well-recorded, live, (I guess, though there's not a single audible audience member,) during a recent jaunt up the West Coast.

Stack it next to "The Quine Tapes" and "'77 Live" for later. No Kings Record Cadre.

Music: Square People "I'm Not Lazy" single [Guest Review]

The more a band intently focuses on being interesting, or "something else," the more they lose the plot and sound boring. Square People don't have this problem. Their approach comes off as calculated, but it doesn't belie the basics: good songs.

Standing tall as the town's only sax-clad house-rockers, they deliver the goods for their first two wax tracks. There have been a few tapes before this 45, that consecutively build up to the feat accomplished here with these two songs: "I'm Not Lazy" and "I'm Not Nervous." Honest statements on their ethics, SP are certainly not lazy, they're one of the most productive bands in town.

"I'm Not Lazy," is their most fully realized composition yet. If all of their previously recorded output were a tough nut, this song cracks it. Encapsulating everything about this band, it strikes the delicate, oh-so-satisfying balance between laid back certainty and haywire anxiety, a la XTC's "Drums and Wires."

There are fascinating dynamics, syncopations, and neatly interactive sax and flute passages, and absolutely NO showboating. There is not one superfluous note played here. There are hooks, however dressed up the arrangements are, and if you strip away the execution you have honest-to-goodness pop songs

Music: Nudity "Heavy Petting" tape

Loosely a lower-fidelity amalgam of say, The Ting Tings and maybe Arcade Fire-style melodrama. I like it OK when they stay closer to Ting Tings-pussy pop. The more dramatic songs, like on Side A, the one where the dude sings, I don't like.

I guess I could throw out trite comparisons to Sleigh Bells too, but that wouldn't be doing the band justice.

Side B starts off with "Cassingle" kinda iffy, all slow but when the woman's voice loops, all chopped up and it doesn't really work but it's weird, catches my attention, then they loop it again, this time at the right pitch, and I think it's a pretty OK track, bombastic hoover bass and all. It really needs to be better organized though.

The atmospheric parts are all okay... "slowed down 800%" style. As for the pop tracks though, this thing definitely seems to have Lightning 100 FM aspirations, so that's alright, that's a thing, OK.

The tape ends with chopped up clacking percussion on "SAURuS RMX" which drops the back beat, that's pretty cool, but more could've been done to whack out the lady's voice which mostly just loops per phrase.

Nicely packaged pro-dubbed cassette, comes with download code and "Magic Eye" J-card interior.

Music: Big Nurse "Who Wants to Kill the President?" single

"Who Wants to Kill the President?" is pretty cool. Whippet-fueled falsetto multi-voice, fingers on the time cotrol. Definitely has a "schizophrenic" feel, subdued disorientation. Also very "psychedelic" with out bothering to use any "psychedelic" tropes, although a little wah-wah really wouldn't have hurt.

B-side is a cover of VOM's quasi-classic "Electrocute Your Cock" and sounds like it was played by 14 year-olds who figured out how to amplify the sound of fingernails scratching a chalkboard.

It's meant to be played at 33 RPM, but give the A-side a spin on 45 too. Recomended!

Music: The Biv "Creatures of the Deep" CD

The freedom from genre-restrictions on this little piece of Nashville house-party faire from 2009 is refreshing. It wouldn't be long before like a garage-rock-only rule went into effect, but if you saw The Biv, like I did, in a sweaty basement or Germantown warehouse loft, you fucking appreciated it.

I mean there are traces of Krautrock grooviness, post-rock drama, and more than a little Deerhoof angularity, but strictly speaking this is Pop-only, instrumental dance music that defies lazy genre categorization.

Nothing here isn't at least basically catchy. Drummer Dan Burns and keyboardist Mitch Jones went on to form/greatly expand two of Nashville's best pure-pop bands, Action! and Fly Golden Eagle respectively.

From what I remember the big hit is "Adventurebot", but that's a little too sticky-sweet for my taste. "Man Overboard (Where'd That Guy Go?)" is a weirdo stuttering minimal-arp piece that should be more than just an interlude. "Reefy the Clownfish" (yes, they mostly have aquatic-themed titles...) is all goofball-early FLips, only well-played. "Different Kinds of Tentacles" has a loping puppet-funk vibe, interupted by Futurama-chimes and a fake horn section. This stuff is simultaneously cartoonish and classical-esque, which basically equals charismatic.

There's a bass player too, but it's mostly MJ's synth leads, organ and piano that supply the broad sound-pallette with DB's skipping, complex drum patterns propping it all up.

Groovy cut out art by Mitch; too bad it's a CD I've ripped into my computer and shelved, perhaps never to look at again, but that's CDs for ya.

Music: John Westberry "Tyrjedza" CD-R

Unquestionably one of Nashville's finest drummers working in the underground, or mostly not working in... Westberry is fairly emersed in the Mainstream Jazz house-show establishment known as Jazz 948, and you might even find him onstage at Green Hills Old-Money watering hole, F. Scott's.

And OK, I understand the attraction to playing that kind of music... It's technically demanding/satisfying and you can make a buck.

But JW at least has one ear pointed toward the "avant" on this release, a collection of mostly-slow burning "pretty" free jazz that occasionally hints at ambient music.

Every track is a duet with either trumpeter Edwin Santiago, or electric pianist Tyson Rodgers, and while Westberry's playing is uniformly subtle and in the pocket, the two other musician's contributions are variously effective and... not.

Rodgers' frantic playing on "Unfinished Look" and opener "Sprint" compliment JW's swift hands perfectly. This is about as good as free improv gets in Nashville. On other songs ("Build", "Abstract") he lets his Rhodes melt into ring-modulator and delay effects while Westberry deftly adds color, playing on the toms and accentuating different tones, pings and hisses from his cymbals, pretty badass. But on other tracks like "Light", the piano playing is so simple, white-keys-only kinda stuff, that you can hardly believe dude has a degree in performance from a major university, which I can only assume he does.

The ambient-piano isn't always bad. Take for example, "Stuttering" which features light-modal playing at first that eventually catches on itself and loops like a CD skipping at a particularly pleasant moment. It's like glitch-jazz, and that's pretty cool.

Similarly, Santiago's dark-toned, unpretentious trumpet-playing sounds beautiful and rich sometimes ("Conversation Piece B", "The Unwritten Rule"), but he sometimes flounders into obvious arpeggios that harken to well-worn standards, and these feel too much like accidents, like he doesn't know quite where to go next and is treading water. On moodier material like "Conversation Piece C", he seems to attempt Coltrane-Minor-seriousness from his horn while Westberry conjours similarly at the kit, all rolls and crashing cymbals like Love Supreme's "Resolution".

Westberry may have the technical chops, but he's not quite convincing in this mode of "heavy" Jazz. He's too polite. But then album-closer "Abrupt" may be the most "challenging" track and one of my favorites and it cuts off mid-riff. I wish it lasted longer!

Classy looking, totally-recycled sleeve and insert. Self-released.