The Dead C - 'Clyma Est Mort/Tentative Power' (Ba Da Bing!)

Here we go again, but I don't think there's anything I need to say about Clyma Est Mort again, since I posted a review only moments ago -- but I did listen to it again, and I must say the Ba Da Bing reissue does sound better: brighter, louder, and more dynamic. Whether this is due to some remastering job, the thicker vinyl, or just my own psychosomatic imagination, I don't know. But we'll talk here about Tentative Power, a 12" EP included here as the other half of the gatefold. At first glance this might appear to be some of the Trapdoor Fucking Exit tracks in a different sequence, but listening actually reveals them to be different recordings. 'Hell Is Now Love' and 'Bone' come from a 1991 Siltbreeze 7" and both versions are reedy and clangy compared to their TFE counterparts. The first featured an even more nervous run through 'Love' than what's on the CD, with Morley's vocals unusually high, causing me to double check that this was actually supposed to be at 45rpm (it is). 'Power' and 'Mighty' are always welcome - how many versions can there be? - and these come from a Forced Exposure 7" also from '91. 'Power' in particular takes it's time to get revved up, and the reverberations sound brilliant on this. The two obscurities are at the end - 'Radiation', an meandering jam with an organ, and another version of 'Power' from 2006 (!), subtitled 'Fallujah version'.  This is probably the least remarkable, apart from the presence again of an organ of keyboard in the distance -- but 'Power' always retains a certain, well, power. 

Buzzcocks - 'A Different Kind of Tension' (I.R.S.)

The Buzzcocks are certainly a great singles band but their albums are probably just as good. I admit that I rarely pull this one out, except I somehow keep thinking this is the one with 'Moving Away from the Pulsebeat' (it's not -- I don't have that one). It does have 'I Believe' which is another 7-minute tune, because this is the Buzzcocks at the turn of decade, trying to branch out and explore Shelley's long-standing interest in Krautrock, electronic music, etc. Or at least we have rumblings of that, if not an abrupt direction change. He does deliver some 'atmospheric keyboards' here but repetition is still the prime directive. Side A (or 'The Rose on the Chocolate Box', as the label subtitles it) finds three Steve Diggle tunes, including the beautiful 'Mad Mad Judy' which climaxes with a brilliantly psychedelic riff-feast. Side B (or 'The Thorn Underneath that Rose') has the cryptic 'Money' which seems to be about changes people go through, but throws it's hands up in disgust under a strangely classic rock-sounding riff. 'Hollow Inside' is a minor key meandering, though actually quite focused. If there's one point where I think A Different Kind of Tension fails, it's the title track. This is a conceptual song attempting to pair commands in opposition to one another, and has a stupid vocoder sound (which probably sounded awesome at the time). But no fault to Shelley for trying; it's 'I Believe' where he turns the lens inward and spills things all over the vinyl. Fair enough -- I appreciate the changes. It's 1980, after all -- instead of 'Boredom' and 'What Do I Get?' , Shelley waxes patience in 'You Say You Don't Love Me' and 'I Don't Know What to Do With My Life'. Deep philosophy yeah, but didn't everyone confront Thatcherism in their own way? But as his voice rings out at the end, "It... my... life!"

Burning Star Core - 'Everyday World of Bodies' (Ultra Eczema)

Who would have thought that Burning Star Core would release a record layered with references to 1994's post-hardcore/indie classic Rusty, by Rodan, a band that came from just down the river from Spencer Yeh's own Cincinnati? And you can hear the same hard/soft balance, between agressive and elegiac, even if on the surface, his Everyday World of Bodies is a world away from their chugga-chugga guitar anthems. But what do we, the listeners, get? Well, 'Shoot Me Out the Sky' begins the record with hiss, eerie voices, and unraveling tape noise. It's dense, but the clouds slowly overlap and let light through at just the right places. As the side goes along we never quite leave that fluttering insectoid feel, though there's more traditional singing than we've heard from Yeh to-date, and various layered unindentifiable field recordings. This might be the 'eclectic' BxC album, which shows his Nurse with Wound influence. This feels like a series of interrelated plateaus, a patchwork that overall blends into something cohesive. 'This Moon Will Be Your Grave' incorporates a very horizontal (yet wavering) electronic tone throughout itself and eventually blends into a glissando of crackling melodies. We get tortured, dying underwater vocals beneath what sounds like cymbals or maybe heavy machinery, and a whole lot of grabbing. But then suddenly we get a strangely rigid electric piano instrumental, by far the most clean, straight-ahead musical sketch I've ever heard from Yeh. Stuck right in the middle of this album, it feels like a bizarre interlude and gives the album a cinematic vibe. And of course the second it ends, we get violin scraping and noodling. Everyday World of Bodies ranges from lo-fi to the carefully recorded constructions Yeh is capable of -- and this mixed bag somehow works because of the way it's all blended together into a suite of six pieces. The man put out a lot of CD-R and cassette releases before the vinyl onslaught and this feels a bit like a throwback to those days (probably because of the mixed fidelity), but with the confidence and schizophrenia (not mutually exclusive terms, you know) that can only develop with time and discipline. Dennis Tyfus' usual intense artwork is here a giant fold-out two-sided moire-trance poster.

Bugskull - 'Snakland' (Scratch)

For this vinyl long-player, Bugskull (now sans-umlauts, perhaps due to Canadian importation laws, as this is on Vancouver label Scratch) step it up a notch. Things sound cleaner, though not necessarily studio-quality - just with better drum mics. There are crazier layers of psychedelic excess, like frantic synths and more clarity in these excursions, relying on timbre over fuzz. The songwriting feels a bit regressed, or maybe I should say that instead of concentrating on the lyrical side hinted at on Phantasies and Senseitions, there is more development of the musical sketches there. Lyrics are present, though often repetitive chants like 'We are coming' ('From the Skies') instead of personal lyrical material. But this suits the album's overall artwork and presentation - adorned with toys and stuffed animals, Snakland feels like a record that Jeff Koons would have made. There is still a band here, though a 3-piece, and the rhythm section falls into 90s indie swing occasionally. Sean Byrne keeps it interesting with all of the layers, and the buzzing and spurting electronics often give the record the vibe of a haunted Toys R' Us. 'Mind Phaser' is perhaps Snakland's most epic track, sounding like early Mercury Rev if the wordy guy was kept in-check. I'd say this is a 'transitional' album, but that's usually a term for lazy writing. 'Bouncer' certainly points towards the electronica direction they will take, but with a significantly more clubby feel than the mild textures to follow a few albums later (I guess that's why it's called 'Bouncer'). Underneath these beats are some thick My Bloody Valentine guitar smears, like traffic in a city tunnel. Don't blink or you'll miss it. 'Exit Wound', the closing track, is long and meandering, with the wound not far from "Nurse With", if you get my drift. And drift it does, through heavily modulated darkwoods with screaming (yet largely organic) murk behind it.