Showing posts with label Pitchfork. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pitchfork. Show all posts

Friday, December 12, 2014

Pitchfork on Anatomy of Habit

Anatomy of Habit

Ciphers + Axioms

Relapse; 2014

By Grayson Haver Currin; December 11, 2014

7.0

For the noise musician Mark Solotroff, Ciphers + Axioms ends in very familiar territory. For eight minutes, amplifiers and instruments scream the sort of feedback, static, and clipped tones that are endemic both to his caterwauling power-electronics band Bloodyminded and his long-running extreme experimental imprint, Bloodlust! The sounds grow evermore dense, ultimately forming a thicket of prevailing hiss. But beneath and around the din, a repetitive guitar riff—just a few notes, really, folding into each other via delay and reverb—illuminate the abrasion, flickering like the light of a warm cabin spotted through a snowstorm. It’s not an accessibility concession that the wonderfully barbaric Bloodyminded would dare make.

Ciphers + Axioms is, instead, the intriguing second album from Solotroff’s Chicago supergroup Anatomy of Habit. The album's dual tracks each clock in around 20 minutes, as did the paired cuts from their self-titled 2011 debut; a subsequent EP split those times into a still not-quite-concise half. Despite the lengths, though, Anatomy of Habit is Solotroff’s relative pop band. He speaks and sings instead of screams, and he moves in lockstep time to guitars, drums and bass, all sharing intentions beyond aural obliteration. Each of these songs has at least one hook you’ll be able to hum, as Solotroff’s strange and droll monotone echoes in your head. During Within the Walls, Bloodyminded’s most recent LP, Solotroff yelled lines like, "mounds of bodies lying unburied" and "air so fouled by the pungent stench of millions of dead children." If you encounter temporary cognitive dissonance while singing along to songs about science and seasons with his Mark Mothersbaugh-meets-They Might Be Giants intonation, just trust that you’re not the only one.

Solotroff has long been a very busy and involved collaborator, but in recent years, his partnership has added unexpected elements to pre-existing projects. He supplied, for instance, essential blasts of abrasion to From All Purity, the latest and best record from Chicago metal act Indian. And there’s Wrekmeister Harmonies, the slow-moving and cinematic collective that works between poles of orchestral splendor and doom furor. Aside from founder J.R. Robinson, Solotroff is one of the project’s sole stable and necessary elements. Such integration is key to Ciphers + Axioms. Only Solotroff and Kenny Rasmussen return from Anatomy of Habit’s earlier iteration, but the new members are copacetic by any standard: Will Lindsay, whose brawny riffs lead the aforementioned Indian, commandeers guitar, while indispensable Tortoise and session drummer John McEntire takes the kit. Joan of Arc’s Theo Katsaounis accents the beats with auxiliary percussion. Chicago metal stalwart Sanford Parker engineered the sessions in McEntire’s Soma Electronic Music Studios. This is an enviable cast of contributors.

Together, they are excellent. In particular, the rhythm section of McEntire, Katsaounis, and Rasmussen’s burly and distorted bass works as one of the record’s great assets. During "Radiate and Recede", they power ahead like a seasoned but smart doom band. They pull back in the perfect places, allowing Lindsay’s gnarled riffs and Solotroff’s enigmatic words to cut through their rests. After introducing "Then Window" with an unstable shock of feedback, Lindsay cycles subtly through a series of strong-arm riffs and phantom countermelodies. Katsaounis and McEntire match him in the background, adding touches of bells and woodblocks to drums that suggest an incoming infantry.

The occasional nature of Anatomy of Habit—in particular, this first-time lineup—cuts both ways. There’s a sense of discovery to Ciphers + Axioms, as the members seem to be negotiating their way through domains of post-rock and doom, math rock and post punk collectively. By record’s end, you want them to keep navigating. During the album, though, the nebulous configuration can produce frustrating results. "Radiate and Recede" depends too much on its start-and-stop, quiet-loud-and-louder structure, as the band flips again and again between loaded metal lurch, eerie ambient crawl, and mid-paced art-rock shuffle. A veteran group might get much the same result with an editing overhaul. That symptom also coincides with how Solotroff sounds a touch uncomfortable, or at least not fluid, in his new role as an enunciating frontman. The speak-sing spans of "Radiate and Recede" are forced and stiff, as if he were trying to raise his voice without screaming. He is more at ease and more convincing when he’s actually singing, as when he repeats the title phrase near the middle of the smoldering "Then Window". He airs those words as if to himself, a writer contemplating his own elliptical poetry aloud. And then the band drops into that long, droning finale, its squall wired by Lindsay’s alluring guitar line. You’re left with the suggestion of future possibilities for this take on Anatomy of Habit.

http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/19956-ciphers-axioms/

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.

Monday, July 22, 2013

Anatomy of Habit in Pitchfork Scene Report

Thanks to David Castillo at Saint Vitus for the excellent mention in the new Show No Mercy scene report on Pitchfork!

"A lesser known moment was when Anatomy of Habit played there for the first time, it was so bizarre in the way that they ended their set with just this crazy pounding doom metal riff and this dude with this thick chain just slamming against this metal in unison with it. It was the weirdest, heaviest, fucked-up, awesome thing. That was early on, and I was like, "OK, this is some shit you should see in New York City."

http://pitchfork.com/features/show-no-mercy/9169-scene-report-nyc/

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Russian Circles on AoH in Pitchfork

Really flattering words about Anatomy of Habit, from Russian Circles, in their Pitchfork Guest List:

"Chicago’s got a lot of really conceptual metal going on lately. There’s Nachtmystium and their forays into prog, Bloodiest and their spaghetti western twang, Atlas Moth and their little-bit-of-everything, just to name a few. Anatomy of Habit aren’t really known outside of Chicago but hopefully their debut will help get the name out. Their combination of proto-industrial rattle-and-clang with sludge metal dirge-and-pummel is an exhilarating exercise in tension and release."

http://pitchfork.com/features/guest-lists/8735-guest-list-best-of-2011/5/

Monday, October 17, 2011

Pitchfork on The Atlas Moth

It is fitting that, after seeing The Atlas Moth last night, who played a triumphant homecoming show, Pitchfork just published an extremely positive review of their new album, with an interesting mention of "Courage"...
 

An Ache for the Distance

The Atlas Moth

An Ache for the Distance

Profound Lore; 2011

By Grayson Currin; October 17, 2011

8.1

"Horse Thieves" is the final and best track on An Ache for the Distance, the second album by Chicago's distorted doom squadron the Atlas Moth. It opens with a pit-of-hell black-metal sigh: Vocalist/guitarist Stavros Giannopoulos sounds as malevolent as Malefic once did on Sunn O)))'s Black One, when the Xasthur leader infamously recorded his vocal parts from inside a coffin that was itself inside a Cadillac hearse. Appropriately, Giannopoulos sings of the end with apocalyptic imagery, a would-be horseman requesting that a "divine mare" help him spread an unspoken plague. "Our light has been eclipsed, the tides washing ashore," he screams, his voice so serrated, his tone so saturated, that the words are barely decipherable. The sound is threatening enough, with words or not. Indeed, even during what turns out to be a fairly indelible chorus, "Horse Thieves"'s voices vacillate between dark, darker, and darkest. It's like a seven-minute history of the progression of black-metal vocals from the basements of Oslo 20 years ago to, these days, high-end recording studios.

But the Atlas Moth aren't a black metal band-- at all. Rather, they're one of a growing legion of bands to use bits of that form-- and, really, everything from stoner metal to psychedelic rock, free jazz to electric blues-- to make militantly adventurous heavy metal. In fact, when Giannopoulos is howling his imprecations during "Horse Theives", he's backed by a slow, stubborn, swaggering blues riff and a rhythm section that has more to do with Mono's escalating brood than Mayhem's shrieking ferocity. Jamie Branch streaks the song's bridge with trumpet hiss, while Andrew Ragin puts down his guitar to add eerie piano jet wash. It all sounds like some awesome, evil vaudeville after-party that, after an impasse, somehow erupts into a sludgy sing-along about a serpent's tongue and staying alive.

Such patent unpredictability and versatility fuel the entirety of An Ache for the Distance, a dense, 45-minute listen that never seems to stop revealing new aspects and assets. The Atlas Moth are an excellent three-guitar quintet as capable of heroic, spiraling leads (see the start of "Coffin Varnish") as they are thick, interlocking lines that serve more as a working matrix for the lyrics, as with "Your Calm Waters". Giannopoulos takes the lead on that track, crying out for a commitment of assistance should he not make it out alive. "Before you climb off, check the pulse/ Bring me back to life," he yells. His call is actually answered by David Kush, the Atlas Moth's sort of hook singer (the liner notes credit him with "clean vocals"). Throughout Distance, he and Giannopoulos trade lines and parts, occasionally creating conversations between hope and despair.

Lyrically, Distance is anchored on old-fashioned worry for the future; as with those blues guitars and rock'n'roll drums, Kush's hooks, which strangely split the difference between Hawkwind and Hot Topics, create tension for Giannopoulos' protestations. They make his bleak seem that much bleaker. What's more, Kush's singing prevents the album's one collaboration from seeming out of place. Mark Solotroff is best known for his work in power electronics as Bloodyminded, but on "Courage", he sings like Mark Kozelek fronting Jesu. The unlikely ballad offers a perfect respite for Distance's general roar and, once again, reveals another capability of the band without squandering too much of the album's propulsion.

The divide between advocates for purity and post-everything blends feels particularly polarized right now-- not just in metal or even music, but in entertainment at large and politics. The Atlas Moth certainly falls into the latter category, churning ideas sometimes considered mutually exclusive inside one relentless package. Importantly, though, it feels neither like a pastiche nor like a pretense. On only their second album, the Atlas Moth have successfully captured a signature, singular mix of ideas and impulses, quickly covering a distance that others waste careers trying to match.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Advance Notice: Cages + Anatomy of Habit - 7/16

Just confirmed!

Anatomy of Habit will be joining Cold Spring recording artists Cages for a special show at The Empty Bottle in Chicago on Saturday July 16.  This will be a budget-price early show that will begin at 7:00 PM sharp.  Two bands.  $5.00 admission.  Free for Pitchfork Music Festival attendees who show their wristband.  More details to follow...