The B-52's - The B-52's

Warner Bros. Records: 1979

I never thought I'd get a The B-52's album. Like so many folks out there (so very many), my first contact with them was via their omnipresent late '80s hit Love Shack. And like everyone else, I loved the song, until I heard it too many times to the point I didn't really want to hear it again. I also recall Kate Pierson's guest spot on REM's Shiny Happy People as being the first time I realized there was such a thing as artist guest spots (“gosh, that lady singing in the chorus sure sounds like the lady singing in Love Shack!”). Following that, there was The Flintstones Theme, which forever marked the band to me as just some cheese-ball, cartoony throwback group. Which, well, was kinda' true, but Cynical Teenager Sykonee thought that a Bad Thing.

Fast forward many years (over a decade?), and I hear Rock Lobster on a classic rock station. And I thinks to myself, I thinks to myself I do, “Wait, is this the same group as who did Love Shack and Flintstones? How can that be, this tune's awesome!” Not that I rushed out to nab more of their music or anything, but it definitely forced a much-needed reassessment of their work, such that when Spotify Discovery discovered me another of their older tunes, I decided it was finally time to do the deed and dig into The B-52's discography proper-like.

While I know pretty nearly anyone reading this blog should know who The B-52's are, they may not know much about them prior to Love Shack (erm, like me, once). They started much earlier than that, forming in the late '70s, getting lumped in with that new wave of rock bands taking the music down roads yet adventured. Only, the five-piece didn't. Rather, they set their sights on rock music from its earliest days, after the rockabilly era, but prior to the Mersey beat era. Yes, I'm talkin' up that most wonderful vintage rock era of them all, the surf rock era!

I get why that style of guitar action had fallen by the wayside, a genre of music commonly associated with thoughts of preppy white kids getting into safe, society-acceptable hi-jinks. Just wasn't as sexy as the gritty greasers from which punk rock was getting its aesthetic from. Irony was on the cusp of musical birth though, and while they were quite sincere in their cribbing from white-crust Middle-Americana, one couldn't help but take The B-52's antics just a tad tongue-in-cheek.

Still, such sincerity makes their self-titled debut album the fun romp that it is. Not only did it trigger plenty of nostalgic endorphins for the Boomer sect, but posed the question of what such music would sound like if it took things an extra level. Rock Lobster was such a hit not just for its cartoony charm, but because it just keeps going! Imagine a Hanna-Barbara cartoon featuring Frankie Avalon on all the amphetamines. Oh, and the rest of the album's pretty cool too.

Autumn Of Communion - Autumn Of Communion

Fax +49-69/450464: 2012

I mentioned a few reviews back that I lucked out on a Discoggian source that had a mountain of Fax+ material, and this was what led me to it. Yes, in my never-ending hope that an affordable copy of Autumn Of Communion's debut album would eventually appear there, it finally happened! And not only that, but the seller had more, oh so much more! Was so tempted to crack open an RRSP for a ridiculous splurge, believe you me. What I got will suffice for now though. No need to be greedy with all these limited-run items, is there?

Of course, another reason I'm thankful/dumbfounded for the luck in finding this is that it assuages that lingering FOMO feeling in skipping out on the Autumn Of Communion box-set. I felt it a tad redundant picking that up when I already had some of the albums first-run, but who knew if any of their older works would make it to hard-copy at reasonable prices again, especially this. Not only is it the debut album from this long-lasting partnership between Lee Norris and Mick Chillage, but it's the final item released from Fax +49-69/450464, before Pete Namlook's passing forced the label to shutter doors. You'd think this would make Autumn Of Communion one of the biggest collector's items on the second-hand marketplace. Then again, the Fax+ community never was that big compared to some of the other cult-like followers of famous record labels. And it's not like they're gaining new members anymore. It's all about that Carpe Sonum hit nowadays.

Anyhow, what's most important is that I finally get to hear the germination of this surprisingly durable pairing between Misters Norris and Gainford, one I have to wonder if even they thought would go this long. Like, I'm sure they felt some synergy from whatever situation brought them together (crossing paths at a show? Sharing war stories of former labels? Chance paired seating on a flight across the the Atlantic Ocean?), but even they couldn't have thought they'd be over twenty albums deep from these humble beginnings. Because these are some humble beginnings indeed.

Honestly, this could have gone one of two ways: an immaculate debut that could never have been replicated again, or a feeling-out process, with later works bringing their collaborative ideas to better fruition. Given the amount of music that has emerged under the Autumn Of Communion banner since, it's safe to say we're in the latter territory with this album. Even for Lee and Mick, this is one super mellow CD, with long, gentle passages of subdued synths and repeating melodies. Aside from End (Sunrise For Claudio), there's barely any rhythm, and what does come about is the most minimalist of minute beatcraft.

For sure there are some gorgeous moments on Autumn Of Communion, including the titular track, but I doubt I'd say anything shocking in pointing to the duo's future works as even better than what's offered here. Still, absolutely worth the monies I paid for it!

Bent - Ariels

Open: 2004

Definitely not the first Bent album you're supposed to get, if you're just figuring out whether you'll like their music or not. This isn't the first for yours truly, as I got it with Programmed To Love, the one I'm pretty sure is the one you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Bent. I figured though, if I'm getting one Bent album, I might as well get another, and this one, it was nice and affordable on the Amazons for an artist mini-splurge. Would I have been better served doing a little research into this before purchasing so comparatively blind? Absolutely, but that's no fun, no fun at all. Music hunting need not be dull, dutiful collecting when one can feel the thrill of exploring uncharted sonic domains. What would you rather do in your survival MMO, stay at a base and horde resources, or see what's beyond that next hilltop? Sorry, marathoning twenty-two hours of Neebs Gaming's 7 Days To Die series has wormed its way into my metaphors.

Let's be real though. The whole reason I'm finally giving Bent a proper go is because I've long enjoyed the scattered classics of their early catalogue (Spotify Discovery reminding me of them hasn't hurt), and hope to hear more of that. How was I to know that just three years from their debut and three albums deep, Misters Tolliday and Mills would feel the itch to move on from that and do something different, evolved from their sample-heavy songcraft? Like, kudos and all for doing so, but it sure threw me for a loop hearing Ariels before any other of Bent's long players.

So this is the album the Bent boys decided to get a whole bunch of real instruments and non-sampled singers into the studio to craft their own brand of contemporary easy-listening music. You got cellos, flutes, harps, glockenspiels, violins, violas, brass, bass, and double-bass. Ooh, some pedal steel guitar action too, in On The Lake. Such a dreamy sounding instrument, fitting for a dreamy sounding song, almost treading into New Age territory, or what The Gentle People would have sounded like if they'd played their music more straight.

Anyhow, Ariels is as pure a dream-pop album you can probably find for the Cafe del Mar set, which has always been Bent's charm. In utilizing mostly real instruments over samples though, it comes off rather detached from the post-clubbing scene, music actually intended for Nuclear Family moms rather than their burnt-out grandkids. There's still some groove to be found, while the huskier voice of Kosheens' Sian Evans lends tracks like I Can't Believe It's Over more to trip-hop's domain. Still, I cannot deny this album tends to phase through me like so much light-weight, fluffy muzak-pop. Feels like in their attempt to be as authentic to the easy listening music of yesteryear, Bent hit it a little too on the nose in the process. It does make for a nice counter to the winter doldrums though.

Cosmic Replicant - Archive Of Signals

self release: 2018

Uh oh, another Cosmic Replicant album already? Does this mean that Bandcamp bundle I bought is gonna' be stupidly front-loaded in the next round of reviews? Heh, no, 'tis but a coincidence of alphabetical sorting. It shall be a long while before I return to this label, but- whoa, wait, I already did this bit, didn't I? Let's start over.

A pure ambient album with dense, dubby touches? Sure, why not. Pavel's done nearly everything else with his Cosmic Replicant project that the psy scene can offer, so it's only natural he'd stretch out into this field. Plenty of his full-lengths have a dronescape track or three, so it's not unexplored territory either. And if other Altar Records alum can release such records (AstroPilot; Chronos; others, probably), so can this one. Perhaps a bit of a shame he had to do it independently, but then Mr. Shirsin hasn't been part of the Altar family for nearly a half-decade now- oh, wait, he did release an ambient EP with them just this year. Man, it's hard keeping tabs on a discography when-

Ah, dang it, I've done this bit too, haven't I? Seriously though, what are the odds I'd have two Cosmic Replicant ambient albums so close in my queue like this? Remember when Pavel did prog-psy, man?

Still, there's a reason for this bit of meta malarky on my part, in that if I were to do a proper review of Archive Of Signals, I'd only be repeating myself from After A Long Rain. In fact, I'd say there's less to detail here, in that this is a pure-pure ambient album, in the 'music as abstraction' concept. At least After A Long Rain had a theme behind it. This album features seven self-titled Parts, firmly planting it in the domain of 'music for its own sake'. And hey, that's totally fine, a hefty chunk of the ambient churned out yearly having faith in the listener to come to their own thematic conclusions. Or sometimes just in need of that proper wallpaper sound, that you don't really pay attention too.

Though if that was Pavel's intent, he missed the mark on that too. Each Part comes in quite distinct from one another, hardly the sort of pure drone songcraft you'd expect of an album like this. Really, some of these pieces feel like compositions that simply never made the cut on After The Long Rain, what with ample use of rain fall and static drone that sounds like rain fall (why not both?). Others are more on that dubby dronescape stylee, while some and gentle and blissy. Again, all top grade stuff from Cosmic Replicant, and different enough from his last pure ambient album that you don't get a sense of actual deja-vu listening to both. Just, y'know, little else for me to say about it so close together. Man, imagine if all I reviewed was ambient. Would have run out of words years ago!

Wurrm - Apotropaic

Neotantra: 2019

Going into this one, I figured I had a complete blank to work with where the artist is concerned. There is absolutely no info regarding Wurrm within Lord Discogs' archives, this album the lone entry. The liner notes gives no details or links either, nor does the associated Bandcamp source (from which I got this from). A total and utter mystery, this Wurrm. So I thinks, I thinks to myself, as I'm dealing with a totally new label as well, I could wax the bull some about that before diving into the actual music within. Because believe you me, I have some things to say about Lee Norris' latest label Neotantra. Nothing harsh or anything, just a little nit to pick about how its presented itself since launching as a sublabel of Fantasy Enhancing earlier this year.

Still, on a hunch, I took an extra Soundcloud dive into this Wurrm fella', just to be certain I hadn't overlooked anything. And wouldn't you know it, I discovered a massive amount of material associated with the name, leaving me stumped as to how none of it is represented on Discogs beyond this lone item. At first I thought perhaps there were just a lot of different Wurrms (that Discogs had somehow overlooked, leading to this one being the first), but turns out it's all the same dude, dabbling in all manner of ambient, dub techno, and future garage. And that's not even getting into his other projects like High Jon The Conqueror (reggae dub) and partnership with DJ Nico Demus as Rukus (a pile of UK garage and grime influenced stuff). High Jon (is that his real name?) has apparently released plenty of material across plenty of micro-labels, yet none of it is on Discogs. I'm starting to wonder whether that claim that Lord Discogs is the Lord That Knows All doesn't know as much as it claims.

Anyhow, Apotropaic. This is definitely an ambient album, though kinda' scattershot in presentation. It's got the tranquil, layered synth-drone pieces (Half Remembered Dreams, Winter Solstice, Bridge). It's got the compositions heavy on the field recordings (Castle Park, Tape Feed, Commute). There's the tracks that submerge you in dubby domains (Degrees Of Seperation, Activated Partials), and even darker, menacing experimental outings (Village Rituals, End Times). If you're looking for some unifying theme to all these tracks, however, I fail to really hear one, Apotropaic coming off more like a collection of various ambient ideas and sketches Wurrm had crafted, and presenting them as is for a full-length on Neotrantra.

And that's what kinda' boggles my mind about this project. The label's mostly featured the usual assortment of Lee Norris associates thus far, which isn't surprising given his myriad connections. How did a guy making hay in a completely removed scene from the ambient techno world get hooked up here? For sure Wurrm's provided some worthy contributions to the Neotantra canon, but it sure is quite the leap from The Sword Of The Morning.

ProtoU & Hilyard - Alpine Respire

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Uh oh, another Cryo Chamber album already? Does this mean that CD bundle I bought is gonna' be stupidly front-loaded in the next round of reviews? Heh, no, 'tis but a coincidence of alphabetical sorting. It shall be a long while before I return to this label, but hey, feels like I'm making up for lost time, having gone so many months without an obligatory look-in to what was shaking with Simon Heath's print.

Of all the items I grabbed in my recent splurge, this may be the oldest of the lot. In fact, Alpine Respire could have been included in my prior Cryo bundle, but that ten CD limit had to cap out somewhere. Albums from God Body Disconnect and Flowers For Bodysnatchers were of higher priority to me at the time, but when I came back to the Chamber for more dronescapes, this was gonna' be top of the pile, by g'ar. Can never get enough of those ashen vistas of cascade mountains at dusk. With molten lava rivers seeping out their sides like open, bloody wounds. Look, we have real volcanoes 'round these here parts, it's not impossible!

Sasha Cats (ProtoU) hasn't been too busy since we last glanced at her output here, a couple albums worth of material materializing in that time. She also officially paired up with partner Dronny Darko as Hivetribe, whom released a collaborative album with Purl (yes, that Purl), and ...two psy-trance albums? No, that's gotta' be a different Hivetribe. Crazy coincidence in the timing of releases though. As for the other half of this album's particular pairing, Bryan Hilyard is another relative dronescape scene floater, self-releasing some items while finding a home on Stereoscenic for others. As being on a label with that sort of name, his is the widescreen variety of dense ambient drone, with occasional field recordings treatments, and not so dark as the Cryo Chamber brand goes. Yet he not only found his way there in this pairing with ProtoU, but even released a solo album on the print this past year too. Ooh, that one's got galaxies on the cover. Will likely nab that, whenever I go on another Cryo splurge.

Alpine Respire is about as typical of the Chamber's output as you'd expect given the cover art. There's a loose theme built around traversing an inhospitable clime', taking in the field recordings scenery as moody tones blanket you in chilly atmosphere. There's the requisite suffocating gloom of tracks like Blood Grass Soujourn and Elwha Snowfinger, but other pieces (Cave Lights On The Bay Of Bengal, Final Refugium) provide something of a tranquil respite from the harsh elements beating down on you. Seems no matter how menacing or melancholic the music, throwing in the sounds of crashing surf never fails to bring about as sense of ease. Man, no wonder so little dark ambient sets itself along beach fronts. You'd think shores with tall cliffs and jagged rocks could harbour some sort of sonic malice.

Alien Community - Alien Community 2

Fax +49-69/450464: 1994

Looky-looky what I got! An honest to God, original print, ultra old-school, limited-run copy of a Fax+ CD! Not a rip, not a reissue, but an O.G. version with the classic cover-art. And with the Earth photo too, not triangular logo. Such releases were part of the 'PW' series, or 'Peter's Worldlabel', where all of his famed, globe-trotting collaborations took place. Not surprisingly, these are highly sought items, releases from the likes of Fires Of Ork, 2350 Broadway, and From Within fetching stupid amounts of money on the collector's market. Sometimes though, you get lucky on the Discogs Marketplace, and I scored myself a source that had all manner of classic Fax+ items up for offer. True, many of them were re-issues on Ambient World, but beggars can't be choosers, and I nabbed me some albums I never thought I'd land without dropping upwards of triple digits for.

One such release I always had my eye on was Namlook's pairing with Jonah Sharp as Alien Community. Their featured track in the Coldcut mix CD Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too made it among my earliest internet explorations (d'at title alone! ...not to mention the sci-fi electro), but discovering it was part of this ca-raaayy-zee catalogue of rare ambient techno, I resigned myself to wistful glances here and there. I mean, the project hadn't even been tapped for reissue with Ambient World. I guess the Spacetime Continuum tie-in just wasn't enough for consistent interest.

Even now, Alien Community doesn't rank terribly high on the list of Fax+ essentials. Well, the first album does, as there is some mighty tasty ambient electro going on there, but not their second (and last) outing under the alias. Why, one can find this for the same price of a regular CD on the used market. Strangely, the same goes for Pete and Jonah's other collaborative project, Wechselspannung, which I haven't really listened to. Its artwork is mighty familiar tho'...

Anyhow, as with many Fax+ releases of this era, Alien Community 2 features a singular sixty-minute composition titled A Long And Perilous Voyage, broken up into twelve parts around five minutes in length for handy CD skipping. Because not everyone is down for those super-noodly, feeling-out, abstract ambient segments these jam sessions often entailed. Seriously, it's like when guitarists spend time tuning their instruments, but instead with twiddly knobs on gear racks.

Also a common feature with these LP-length outings was how they were structured, with rising escalation of the various sounds in use, a mid-section of downtime with various sonic doodlings, each player doing their thing, then a bigger peak-out with everything coming to the fore. It's effective ambient techno jamming, especially if you enjoy Namlook's distinct synth pads and transistor tweeps with Sharp's spaced-out acid tweaks and electro rhythms. Still, it's just following upon the same ideas as the first album, and I can understand why some may feel it the lesser of the two Alien Community releases.

Alphaxone & Xerxes The Dark - Aftermath

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Been a while since I last indulged in the Cryo Chamber catalogue, what with me exploring other dark ambient labels for a spell. Back to the familiar, trusty ol' print of cinematic drone I must go though (yo'), with another CD bundle splurge I can never resist (can't have enough 'cryo chamber' beer can sleeves!). Still a lot of familiar names making the rounds here, but quite few new faces too. Mount Shrine, Ruptured World, Dahlia's Tear, Ager Sonus, In Quantum. Y'know, cheerful aliases! I've also noticed Cryo Chamber's cover art has grown a bit more... colourful? Okay, maybe that's too strong a word, everything still retaining that distinct, muted saturation. Still, I see whites and reds and blues and various scales of grey too. Why, In Quantum's Memory 417 could almost be synthwave cover! A very dark, depressing collection of synthwave, but that seven-segment display for the album's font screams '80s (thanks, The Police's Ghost In The Machine).

There's nothing like settling on the familiar though, and what better way to get reacquainted than with an old standby of Cryo Chamber, Alphaxone. When last I covered him, Mr. Saleh had been pairing up with the dark ambient power couple of Dronny Darko and ProtoU for a pair of albums that were conceptually quite different from each other. Naturally, I gravitated more towards the spacier of the two offerings, and so it goes again in his latest collaboration, this time with fellow Iranian Xerxes The Dark. That... doesn't strike me as the most creative of aliases Morego Dimmer could have come up with. Like, why not Xerxes The تاریک? In any event, he's floated about various dark ambient labels since the mid-'00s, but the gravitational pull of Cryo Chamber drew him within their fold for a collaborative album or three, first appearing on one of the Tomb Of... compilations.

I've taken in plenty of cosmic drone, but very little cosmic horror. The existential dread of utter nothingness is enough to send cold shivers down my neck, no need of madness-inducing unrealities mixing in. Still, Alphaxone's very good at crafting captivating soundscapes fitting of altered dimensions, so I'm in safe(?) hands with him leading the way into this domain. I'm not so sure about Xerxes though, unfamiliar with his brand of drone as I am. Can I pick out distinct attributes in Aftermath from Alphaxone's aesthetic?

Can't say I did. This still feels like an Alphaxone album, though perhaps more structured in narrative than some of his other works. As with the best of Cryo Chamber, each track serves as another chapter in whatever tale the artists look to tell, in this case, exploration of the interplanetary unknown, and what wonders or horrors may come from there. There are points where an almost benign tone settles in (ooh, shimmery piano to close out!), but yeah, this is a very minimalist excursion into cinematic dronescapes. Not that I'd want to hear inhuman field recordings in something like Aftermath.

Neil Young - After The Goldrush

Reprise Records: 1970/1993

A little unfinished business, this. I totally skipped After The Goldrush when going through my block of 'A'-titled albums, because the record was already significantly covered when I reviewed the Neil Young Archives collection. Still, I can't very well claim to have reviewed everything in my music library if I don't also do this, even if there's little more I can add. One thing did come to mind though.

In its commitment to presenting the tracklist in chronological order, the Archives collection failed to showcase one of After The Goldrush's best strengths, how each side of the record mirrored each other. A wonderful, group acoustic love song opener, followed by a reflective commentary on society, then a lovelorn ditty, a hard rocker, and finishing off with a charming doodle. Okay, Side-B doesn't quite match up, what with an extra song there, but put I Believe In You where Birds is, and it matches, mang!

That's all I got left to say. Here's what I wrote before to eat up the rest of my self-imposed word count obligation. Enjoy!

Despite taking a step back from the limelight, Neil Young once again found himself a very important person in the world of American rock. It'd only been half-a-decade since he sought music fortune in Los Angeles, and he'd accomplished more commercially and creatively than most could have ever hoped for, even for the fruitful '60s. What else could he do beyond being part of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, one of the country's most popular bands?

“How about scoring a movie?” suggested Young's Topanga neighbour Dean Stockwell. Yes, that Dean Stockwell, who'd been interested in scripting and filming a movie called After The Goldrush. It piqued ol' Shakey's interest enough to start writing a few tunes for it, and though the film never materialized, some of the intended music turned out to be some of the highlights of Young's album of the same name (Tell Me Why, After The Goldrush, Don’t Let It Bring You Down). It also sparked his creativity ever further, vivid lyrics compared to songs past, and unafraid at stretching his limited vocal range into areas yet attempted. You can really hear him crackling the high notes in After The Goldrush for the first time, exposing a naked sincerity to his music.

The other two standouts from these sessions are Southern Man (an incendiary condemnation of, well, southern redneck ‘justice’ and treatment of African-Americans) and When You Dance, I Can Really Love, capturing Young and his Crazy Horse band in full-on swagger musically. Added to the mix is seventeen year old Nils Lofgren, a budding guitarist that’d been something of an understudy to Young. In what had to been either crazy brilliant or brilliantly crazy, Neil suggested Nils play piano for these songs, an instrument lil’ Lofgren had no prior experience with. The kid fuckin’ smashed it! That’s Mr. Young for you though, so often bringing the best out of those around him.

Cosmic Replicant - After A Long Rain

self released: 2018

A pure ambient album with modern classical touches? Sure, why not. Pavel's done nearly everything else with his Cosmic Replicant project that the psy scene can offer, so it's only natural he'd stretch out into this field. Plenty of his full-lengths have a dronescape track or three, so it's not unexplored territory either. And if other Altar Records alum can release such records (AstroPilot; Chronos; others, probably), so can this one. Perhaps a bit of a shame he had to do it independently, but then Mr. Shirsin hasn't been part of the Altar family for nearly a half-decade now- oh, wait, he did release an ambient EP with them just this year. Man, it's hard keeping tabs on a discography when the artist's Bandcamp isn't always the primary output. There's only so many email lists I want to be part of.

Surprisingly, especially given his alias, this isn't a cosmic ambient album as so many of his peers typically go. Rather, Pavel's focused his muse in a grounded reality, the sort of feelings one may experience after a brisk downpour of autumn rainfall. Not the cooling sun-showers of summer, nor the icy drip of wintry sleet, but that in-between perspiration that still carries some warmth from oceanic fronts. Rain that nourishes the fungi blooms feasting upon decaying leaf piles. So many fungi blooms about Vancouver right now. Just... so many. Which is weird, considering we've had a remarkable run of cold, sunny weather as of late, right when we should be in perpetual drizzle season. May have to start laying out the road salt earlier than usual.

The opening track is called Silence On The Air, and it's almost dark ambient in how moody and suffocating its drone feels. A gentle melody echoing through the atmosphere does keep it just on this side of the realms of light (or however you want to demarcate ambient from dark ambient). Thoughts That Carried Away carries on in similar vein, a sombre dronescape with delicate crystalline tones piercing the murk. It's not all dour downpour though, the mood of subsequent tracks slowly but surely turning more tranquil and refreshing – a piano as your primary melody helps. Why, Cloudy Friday Day is downright chipper, with a jaunty, echoing electric guitar and actual bassline. I can easily imagine this playing to a scene of kids splashing in post-rain puddles.

I wouldn't call myself a critic if I couldn't find something to be nitpicky about though, and there is a quibble. Music and albums centred around the concept of rainfall are typically quite intimate affairs, as rainfall itself forces us to turn withdrawn and huddled from the elements abroad. For as lovely the pieces Cosmic Replicant has crafted here, however, they're rather grandiose. Gentle and calming, yes, but they make me feel like I'm watching the water cycle in action on an IMAX screen, not trickling through the trees outside my window-pane. Yeah, the quibbliest of quibbles, that.