Showing posts with label Grayson Currin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grayson Currin. Show all posts

Friday, December 06, 2013

Pitchfork on BLOODYMINDED "Within The Walls"

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/18744-bloodyminded-within-the-walls/

Our thanks to Grayson Currin!

Bloodyminded
Within The Walls

BloodLust!; 2013
By Grayson Currin
December 6, 2013
7.5

For more than 40 minutes, the raw noise collective Bloodyminded plows through a series of harrowing drones, feedback bursts, mutated screams, static blitzes, and circuit collapses. There are imprecations hurled in both English and Spanish and floods of sound so caustic and strong they rattle both brain and core. But the real shock of Within the Walls, the group’s first LP in seven years, comes at the start of the final track. Through a layer of squall and around the calm narration of Bloodyminded leader Mark Solotroff, a gently eerie keyboard line arrives like a glowing ghost. It’s only a few lurid notes, set to repeat and distend slowly into a blur. It’s also one of the most reserved and beautiful sounds in Bloodyminded’s two decades as a group—a sudden, surprising melody surrounded on all sides by madness. Played by heavy metal producer Sanford Parker, the little synthesizer theme eventually gives into Bloodyminded’s power electronics din, battling the squall in both volume and insistence. But make no mistake: It's a successful attempt from long-running noise veterans to use a new trick. It works.

The coda is actually a cover of “Inverted Ruins”, a Locrian number under which Solotroff hissed the same words on that group’s great 2010 album, Territories. The Bloodyminded reworking is faithful enough, using the same slow crawl toward chaos but promoting his vocals to the position of overlord. The choice to include the cover is an apt one; in the past few years, harsh electronic music has wormed its way closer toward indie rock’s core, thanks to the likes of Prurient, Pharmakon, Wolf Eyes, and, in some capacity, Locrian, too. “Inverted Ruins”, then, makes the precursor position of Solotroff and Bloodyminded clear. They are pioneers to a scene that has sprawled. Indirectly, it also reinforces the group’s fiercely prolific nature, no matter how slow the group’s proper output or live appearances have become. Member Pieter Schoolwerth helms Wierd Records, for instance, while Solotroff and his fellow vocalist Isidro Reyes have pumped out more than a dozen volumes in less than seven years under the name Fortieth Day. Bloodyminded itself has slowed, but its members have necessarily not.

What’s more, the time between Within the Walls and 2006’s Magnetism has only seemed to condense the band’s strengths, as these 13 songs consolidate what’s often been best and most intriguing about Bloodyminded’s output. For instance, Gift Givers, from 2005, pitted Solotroff’s clipped English phrases against the French lyrics of Xavier Laradji. Within the Walls instead works with Solotroff’s words and the Spanish lyrics of Reyes, who often hurls them out beneath the dominant tongue. Two scripts in two different languages might sound disorienting, but this multilingual approach actually makes Within the Walls a truly multivalent listen, the sort of thing you’ll want to hear again and again in order to tease out the nuances of what they’ve made. How do Solotroff and Reyes’ interconnected lyrics relate, and how do they work against the shifts around them? During “Fatal Breath”, for instance, Solotroff seethes about the inevitability of destruction, about systems that fall apart simply by existing; meanwhile, Reyes lurks beneath him and then occasionally jumps in front, retrenching the invective with his own views on corruption, oblivion, and unavoidable anguish. The sound is a nightmare. They complement and contradict one another throughout the record, constantly reinforcing the music’s tumult.

Within the Walls alternates between long, ponderous poems shouted into or against the noise vortex and five ruthless bursts of pugilistic feedback and static lasting between nine and 68 seconds each. Bloodyminded has often used this see-saw technique in the past, onstage and offstage, but here it’s more deliberate and careful, meant to break up the verbose musings as much as it to show the group’s sonic willpower. More than anything, however, the ebb and flow appropriately spotlights the depth of Bloodyminded, a group whose very power and antagonistic nature could make their records monolithic and paradoxically sedate. But once again, they’ve found new ways to shock and enthrall, even if that requires a vivid recollection and recombination of the past.

Friday, August 02, 2013

Pitchfork on Wrekmeister Harmonies LP

A pretty nice write-up in Pitchfork today: http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/18263-wrekmeister-harmonies-youve-always-meant-so-much-to-me/


Wrekmeister Harmonies

You've Always Meant So Much to Me

Thrill Jockey; 2013

By Grayson Currin

August 2, 2013

7.9
 
Who will lay claim to You’ve Always Meant So Much to Me, the second proper album from Chicago sound art project Wrekmeister Harmonies? During its sole, 38-minute track, the dozen-member ensemble led by J.R. Robinson builds from asymptotic silence into space-age electroacoustic drone, and from browbeating doom metal into, ultimately, a circular, harp-flecked denouement. Within Robinson’s magnetic musical current, the distance from beer-soaked rock club to incense-scented yoga studio is but one quick fadeout.

That notion is backed up by the varied personnel he recruited for this massive instrumental beauty: Jef Whitehead-- better known as Wrest, of U.S. black metal belligerents Leviathan-- adds drums, while seasoned studio musician and distinguished improviser Fred Lonberg-Holm plays cello; there’s viola from Julie Pomerleau, a musician with a wealth of indie rock experience, and electronics from high-tone harsh noise priest Mark Solotroff. It’s an unlikely crew, the sort of experts-in-their-field assembly that you expect to be financed by a major label. Instead, it was simply fostered by the musical diversity of Chicago. But You’ve Always Meant So Much to Me doesn’t fit conveniently into any of its makers’ scenes-- noise or post-rock, metal or classical-- because it falls too far into other scenes into which it doesn’t completely fit, either. Doom or drone, new age or space rock? That barely matters: You’ve Always Meant So Much to Me is a terrific monument of simultaneous stylistic acceptance and avoidance.

Robinson constructed this music as the score for a film of the same name, shot from a rooftop in Long Island City, in the desert of Joshua Tree, and in the urban ruins of Detroit. “It’s a classic example of structural filmmaking, where the camera does all of the work for you,” he recently explained. “There were long, static shots... Nature doing its thing to nature, and nature doing its thing to man.” Such a sense of vulnerability and predictability define this piece, in part because its direction and structure are at once obvious and enthralling-- that is, nearly as soon as it starts, you know exactly where it’s going, but hearing the process itself develop is still captivating.

Here, Wrekmeister Harmonies feels like a stateside, kid-friendly answer to Australia’s the Necks. A gentle bell peal opens You’ve Always Meant So Much to Me, serving as an invocation for the electronic hum and patchwork of phrases and patterns that follow. Upright bass skips along in deep zigs and zags, while shouts and hisses shoot through the space like errant asteroids. A harp traipses. A harmonium howls. A viola weeps. All these sounds grow together for the first 22 minutes or so, gathering eventually into the same great post-rock swell that you might’ve predicted at the track’s beginning. And then it all crashes down, with Whitehead hammering the drums in mid-tempo wrath, evacuating the air beneath distorted guitars and tidal strings and saturating electronics. With the dependability of the setting sun, the beating stops eight minutes later, giving way to an extended trickle back toward silence. Again, the end result, like the middle, is predictable, but the path toward it is both engrossing and wonderful all the same. Wrekmeister Harmonies use familiar elements from Neu! and Neurosis, free jazz and Swans to offer a compass within a sometimes disorienting patchwork of sound. To further facilitate that navigation, Robinson employees a traditional format-- quiet, louder, loudest, quieter-- to let you know where you’re going, just not how you’ll get there.

There’s a temptation to talk about records such as You’ve Always Meant So Much to Me as proof that heavy metal is itself going places, getting smarter and becoming more adventurous. Wrekmeister Harmonies, one could suggest, stands in the midst of some advancing experimental frontier. And, sure, fans of the liminal heaviness of Sunn O))), Earth, Locrian or those that have used volume and riffs to push outside of metal’s confines will likely want to slip inside of Robinson’s protracted rise and fall here. But Robinson’s work feels too personal to be part of any movement, too centered on the intricacies of its own action to be concerned with anyone else’s activities. Its intentionality feels entirely internal, like a deep and calming breath that just happens to be exhaled in the same direction in which the wind is blowing.