Kemialliset Ystävät ‎– 'Ullakkopalo' (Fonal)

Hi there. It's been awhile; a month+ break taken for no particular reason except sometimes you just need a break. There were some dark days in between this and the last transmission, quite literally dark as recovering from a minor eye surgery led to some light sensitivity, which would have been the perfect time to just sit in the dark and listen to records. Yet, no, it didn't happen, and I actually blame the timing of Ullakkopalo being drawn next in this deck. This is a dense masterpiece, where Jan Anderzen has put together a zillion layers of strange interacting sounds to create a tapestry that is dizzying and awe-inspiring, if you can stay focused enough while listening for awe to form.  And I couldn't, which is why after years of technically loving this record, I rarely listen to it; I don't spend as much time as I'd like parsing through its various confounding movements. Sure, there's a lot of horsin' around, but it's all in the service of something complete. With a load of guest musicians, spread throughout the tracks in a manner where their contributions are pretty much impossible to distinguish from Anderzen's own fuckery, this is a real 'Who's Who' of the Finnish freak underground, except all blended together. I first heard Kemialliset Ystävät about five or six years before this, but that was another world entirely. Then, KY material was based around a loose thrashing about, with a lot of acoustic instruments, a lo-fi texture, and no particular hurry to get to any destination. But by this point (2010), it had become a symphony of precisely assembled sound matter, still based around weird experiments and uncertain tonal sources, but concerned with plot, not just feel. I'm reminded at times of Ennio Morricone scores, Albert Marcouer's great 70s art-pop, shoegaze textures and the Residents, but that's just a few points of reference. Really, this is such singular music that it does it a disservice to compare it to other artists. There are moments where the cheap synthesisers swirl around in a carnivalesque manner, but there's a clarity to it all, and as said above a precision, which hides behind the surface-level madness. Singling out tracks is difficult but a few weeks back a Pekko Käppi record was reviewed and even though they're pretty different in temperament, there's a similar sense of eclecticism to how it's all put together. And now that I've gotten here, reaching the end of this, it wasn't so hard after all to write something about, though I don't know if my words add much value to the listening experience.

The Honeymoon Killers ‎- 'Les Tueurs De La Lune De Miel' (Riskant)

Don't confuse them with the early Jon Spencer band! This Belgian group actually put out an album before this under the band name Les Tueurs de la Lune de Miel, but it wasn't as bouncy or sharp as this one, and the band name was a mouthful, even though it just means 'honeymoon killers' in French. Marc Hollander & Vincent Kenis from the brilliant Aksak Maboul are present here and their influence is felt, surely. These songs are bursting with energy, driven by either the vocals of Yvon Vromman or Véronique Vincent, and there's all sorts of electric energy tracing around the edge. Somehow punk is never very convincing when sung in a French accent but 'Fonce À Mort' comes pretty damn close; there's random dub/echo effects on the drums, broken glass synth lines, and saxophone bleats to keep you on your toes. Every song is driving and dancey without being monotonous; they're not a million kilometres from American bands from the same time like Pylon or Suburban Lawns. 'Ariane' is the hit I always play the most, which is actually instrumental; there's another version of it I heard on the radio once, from a 7", which is even better. The lyrics are printed in French and German for this German edition. I struggle with my high school level French to get what the songs are about, but 'Flat' starts off by talking about listening to Fleetwood Mac and 'J4' seems to narrate a story of domestic life. But I could be totally wrong; it doesn't really matter, since I'm enjoying the whole package. Aksak's more avant-garde tendencies are held in check here, with some straight-up hooks and fun keyboard parts, a goofy version of 'Route Nationale 7' that is practically novelty music except it's just so good, especially when followed by 'Ariane', a spacey anthem of paleofuturism. It's where pop music can be radical and challenging and while this would sound like a post-Rough Trade retro band now, something about the French accent gives it an earnestness that perseveres; like Family Fodder minus the irony, or I guess more like Aksak Maboul with the prog knob turned all the way down. The closing cut ('L'Heure De La Sortie') is the slow plodder sung with a robot voice, yet it's awesome. If they had been on my honeymoon, it would have been enhanced, not killed. Oh yeah, there's a Serge Gainsbourg cover, too ('Laisse Tomber Les Filles'). Fantastic.

Devo - 'Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!' (Warner Bros)

A great detail of the creepy cover art is that the hat of this über-man says "ACTUAL SIZE" on it. I love early Devo. What a brilliant, incredible fucking band, and what makes it even greater is that they're still at it, and have lived their concept to fruition. Ryko put out some CDs called Hardcore Devo back in the 90s, which were culled from sessions and demos recorded before this album - it's some of their most brilliant and fractured music, and I wish a vinyl version existed (update: the first volume came out as a French fanclub release!). Devo is a wolf in sheep's clothing; though they are remembered for their pop success and the quirk/novelty factor, they're truly one a dedicated and furious group of art radicals. The Hardcore stuff really makes that clear as much of it seems sexist and stupid but is really just truly misanthropic. Elements of that certainly remained by the time they made it to the major label here ('Sloppy (I Saw My Baby Gettin')' being one such track, and of course 'Uncontrollable Urge') but there's an undeniable pop fury which strangely presaged edgy new wave music while not having anything to do with that stuff. The discordant basslines and meandering guitar licks are not a million miles away from what Talking Heads were doing at the time, though it's more fragmented; but I think Mothersbaugh's distinctive yelp, surely the most identifiable feature of Devo, is also remniscent of Byrne's. I like Talking Heads but it's silly to compare them, and they don't hold a candle to Devo. This is a work of utter genius, a truly subversive pop record that after 30+ years is still a pretty distinctive vision. Side two opens up with two of Devo's greatest numbers, also showing both of their sides. 'Too Much Paranoias' is a bit of No Wave insanity and then 'Gut Feeling' is a triumphant and powerful ascent through the gates of heavenly melody. Most of the Devo classics are found on this album or the next, save 'Whip It' -- 'Mongoloid', 'Jocko Homo', and 'Come Back Jonee' for example are found here. The cover of 'Satisfaction' is far more than novelty - it follows from the masturbation epic 'Uncontrollable Urge' and reduced the pyrotechnics of rock to latent, broken bursts. Eno produced this record, and it's surprisingly 'rock' - Eno was clearly smart enough to emphasise Devo's best asset, which was their prowess as a musical unit. This actually could sound far more futuristic, but Devo were anything but futurists - it's really about the earth starting to corkscrew backwards, fueled by hatred of man's civilisation.