Steve Lacy - 'Moon' (BYG Actuel/Get Back)

This is a far cry from The Straight Horn of Steve Lacy, as it's anything but straight. Moon hails from a period where he was immersed in the Italian free jazz scene (recorded in Rome, 1969) and features a bunch of European musicians who I'm not really familiar with. His wife, Irene Aebi, appears on cello and does vocals on 'Note', which is one of the more memorable cuts not just because of the staccato, one-word lyrics but cause of its whirlwind start-stop madcap nature. Jacques Thollot is on the drums - I only know him from Sharrock's Monkey-Pockie-Boo record and otherwise more as a name – and he clatters and whoops throughout. The overall momentum of this feels closer to the scratchy bending and hacking of the Spontaneous Music Ensemble than much American free jazz going on at the time. The front line being clarinet and soprano sax means we're locked firmly into the upper register, and the bass and drums are fluid enough that it feels like a lot is missing from the centre. Aebi's cello isn't always so present, or it's played in such a way that it's hard to distinguish from the bass. There's generally a thump-thump bassline behind most cuts, probably most melodically on closing cut 'The Breath', but the whole record feels pretty scrappy. 'Moon' is where things get a little loopier, and the swirls of breath and string start to bend and form a parallax effect. The whole thing goes by rather quickly, and it's absolutely uncompromising in its style. Not a full-breath blowout by any means, but maybe that's just due to the limits of the instrumentation and the way that Thollot plays. Drummers can have a huge effect on these matters. Lacy is front and centre on the cover photo but in the mix he's all over the place, darting through the corners of the soundstage and coming to the forefront furtively, only to slip away as he pleases. This is music that plays against itself continually, twisting against a centre that keeps escaping. I'm not sure what this record's reputation is but it's a demanding listen, despite having a light touch. Somehow it feels unique from other Euro-free records of the period, but maybe that's just because Lacy is such a singular player.

Chris Knox - 'Not Given Lightly' (Flying Nun)

I went through a Chris Knox period in college and those first couple of solo LPs are great, something I'd recommend to everyone (and strangely, I don't have any of them as physical copies to place under analysis here). This is a 12" single with a slim (but technically existing) spine, which means I never remember it's here as it doesn't catch my eye when browsing (and the Ks are right in the middle of my line-of-sight when standing). It's the only Chris Knox vinyl I own, so I'm grateful for this project to remind me to listen to it. Side A is Knox's biggest hit, rendered here at 45rpm, a tune which actually even charted in some countries, though possibly only southern hemisphere ones (not that there's anything wrong with that). But Knox, being the generous genius that he is, surly figured 'Why have one B-side when you can have 10?'; this side is labeled Guppiplus!! as it's mostly made up of  material from Knox's very rare 1982 solo LP Songs for Cleaning Guppies, which I've never heard in its entirety. The ten songs here lean towards the more experimental side of early-80s Tall Dwarfs work, with a home-studio sound not too far off from the vibe of Seizure and Croaker. The more experimental parts come to the forefront in the way Knox treats his voice; 'Jesus Loves You' uses a processed silly baby voice as a harmony over a clanging percussive loop with backwards effects; it recalls early 80s UK electronic/industrial underground music, which may or may not have actually been an influence then. 'Indigestion' is a heavily rhythmic song approaching rap; 'Sandfly' is totally a-capella and calls out Bobby McFerrin in the liner notes. I can imagine people who bought this for 'Not Given Lightly' and the sweet romanticism of it would find little to enjoy here on the flip. Even the closer-to-pop songs, like 'Over and Out' or 'I Wanna Die With You' have more art-school swagger to them than 'Not Given Lightly', which is a wonderful song for sure but not one with any element of being damaged. My pick of Guppiplus may actually be 'More or Less [Lethargy]', which creeps through a sludgy guitar strum and has a great, classic Kiwi drone-melody. Rendered in Knox's cheerful croon, it sounds absolutely wonderful, but I do love the sound of his voice. The song stops and sputters but stays within the bedroom aesthetic; it's the shining example of what Knox does. 

Hair Police - 'Prescribed Burning' (Hospital Productions)

The cover of this is stark and minimal, and the inside of the rough cardboard is screened with a pattern that makes it almost the inverse of Obedience Cuts. On the first half, Hair Police is far away from the active machinations of Obedience - it's rather 'mellow', though that's probably not the correct word to use when describing music this dark and desolate. Prescribed Burning could work as a horror film soundtrack, except it's tonality is so low-key and it's accents come from processed, reverb-laden sounds of indeterminate origin (really, it's not even clear what is electronic here and what comes from acoustic or human sources) that I would imagine it would make any such film a distraction. And there's not necessarily a horror lurking here, just unease and confusion. The two lengthy pieces that start side 1 (untitled, as are all of them here) are spacious, with clanking sounds and drones ebbing and flowing. The third, a short track to lead into side two's more aggressive start, feels like something incidental that was scrapped from other material. If you listen closely, especially on the second track, you'll hear some backwards-processed sounds, suggesting this was more of a studio work than it may sound like upon first listen. Side two then explodes, at least relatively, with churning, grinding distorted sounds, beacons of higher pitched feedback, and the feeling of forces pulling themselves apart. It's closer to the 'Hair Police' sound, though it doesn't feel like the deconstructed "band" they do when appearing live, and it's not completely clear if all three members are actively involved in this. But kudos to Hair Police for not painting themselves into a corner, especially during this time, the peak of their self-described 'gnarly times'. Yeah, that infamous t-shirt they made became their unofficial slogan, written across the two sides here in the run-out grooves, and perfectly encapsulating the Bush/Cheney/Iraq/post-9-11 years in America better than any other two words could. I said before how the decline in output from this American noise underground was more likely an incorrect perception I hold based on my own waning interest/involvement, but I also tie it to the political changes in America - not that Obama's election in 2008 ushered in a progressive era, not by any means - but certainly the mindset changed in some way. And before y'all comment on how ridiculous this is, I'm not saying that noise music changed because of Obama, but that the music created during the Bush years reflected feelings of frustration, anger and hopelessness (at least to me) while never quite embracing nihilism or self-destruction, and one can connect this to a general cultural zeitgeist in a way that enhances the interpretation of such music via context, etc. None of which is really relevant to describing side two of Prescribed Burning, which apart from the first cut stays in the sparse groove of side one - not necessarily gentle, but spacious, with start-stop rhythm, the momentum being a lurching crawl. Not many distinct vocals are audible here - by this point it seems like Mike Connelly was using his voice purely as instrument so it's going to be processed beyond recognition (though some deeper, guttural growls are evident). I still hold onto this connection to free jazz - that Hair Police are in some strange way a jazz group - and think this would be like Marion Brown's Afternoon of a Georgia Faun side one if it were transposed to this time and place.

Giant Sand - 'The Love Songs' (Homestead)

It's exciting to review a test pressing, and a pretty good sounding one too - as far as I know the higher-ups at Homestead gave the thumbs-up to this. Somehow, this test pressing (I wonder how many were pressed) made it to Jerry's record store in Pittsburgh many years ago, accompanied by the 'one-sheet' promo text -  and I grabbed it, not knowing much about Giant Sand except they were supposed to be alt-country (but not the annoying Wilco kind). Between this and all of the subsequent Giant Sand records I've heard, this one is definitely the most 'country' sounding, though I don't know what that says except my own genre biases. It's an electric country record for sure, with lots of biting guitars, keyboard/organ drones, and other flourishes. It's a very well produced record, but somehow after years of casually listening to Giant Sand and Howe Gelb, I've never gelled with them completely. So I've always had this mild appreciation of his work without ever really loving it. A few years ago they made that Giant Giant Sand record called Tucson that was pretty ambitious and pretty great. But this is much earlier, and has some hard-rocking ballads, like the opening cut 'Wearing the Robes of Bible Black'.  The production is really top-notch, and nothing really indicates it's 1988 though I wouldn't know what alt-country is supposed to sound like then except for the Mekons. The drums are bright and crisp, and the arrangements are thick but tasteful. There's some waka-chika gutiar on 'Love Like a Train' which somehow works in the context and doesn't drag it towards a 70s porn sound. Gelb is a songwriter that lets his idiosyncrasies out; his vocals occasionally wail and contort, and he's not afraid to cop a classic pose, though it's always a little off-kilter. 'Almost the Politician's Wife' starts with a gentle acoustic strum and works from the position of a roving eye, never quite content, but not restless either. The album ends with a cover of 'Is That All There Is?', recently resurfacing in pop culture by its inclusion in the final season of Mad Men; here, Gelb is sarcastic, voice breaking into a million different directions. The album concludes by dissolving into a sample of The Honeymooners, which I guess means this is a reflection back on the past and the 60s in particular, though I don't really feel it. Are these actual love songs? They don't jump out as particularly romantic, but maybe that's the point. Giant Sand have always seemed to me like a band whose pleasures lie in subtlety, even if the songs aren't necessarily restrained; I think further time is required (even though I've had this LP for well over 15 years) to truly dig in.

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. 

The Adverts - 'Crossing the Red Sea with' (Bright)

Source: Got it from Ross for a few bucks in January 2003.

'No Time to Be 21' somehow hit the charts hard, though it's not nearly as catchy as 'Bored Teenagers' or the cheating multichord 'One Chord Wonders'. The blueprint was set for a million suburban garage bands while the Jay Reatards to be, not even yet an embryo, would have their work cut out for them. The formula works, except when they drop to half-time and lay on weak semi-psychedelic solos ('On Wheels'). 'Bombsite Boys' is my pick, I think what people mean by a 'deep cut'; 'The Great British Mistake' (insert joke here) closes it out with a repetitive stompdown that ends before it even gets going.