Album Reviews - Jana Hunter, Tambersauro, Gong, Moving Sidewalks, Claque, The Bent Mustache

Jana Hunter - There is No Home -
Gnomonsong
Rating



I’m going to say something quite sacrilegious and I will likely be hung for it. Ready? I wanted to like Jana Hunter’s “Blank Unstaring Heirs of Doom” more than I did. A large part of this was the limits of home recording containing the unlimited talent of Hunter – as a whole, the album simply felt too boxed in.

This time Jana Hunter left the 4-track behind, walked into Chris Ryan’s studio*, and left with an album that does her vast talent justice. From the first plucked notes of Palms you immediately note the organic feel of this album. The vocals, instrumentation, and production are so crisp and clean that it’s easy to close your eyes and feel yourself is the same room, then when Matt Brownlie’s piano lays you down on a soft pillow of a vocal chorus you really appreciate how acoustic space and understatement can be beautiful and powerful. Take the slow arc of Pinnacle on side 2. John Adams’ drums roll like thunder over valley as Hunter’s voice and guitars huddle underneath. Its strength lies in its deceptively simple arrangement and execution. Take the intoxication performance on Oracle. I love the drum accents and the point where the melody jumps to the octave. Both those little touches are implied in the parts preceding so when the band hits them, you feel this gratitude for the band; thank you.

That’s the kick of this album; Hunter benefits from having members of Bring Back the Guns, Fatal Flying Guilloteens, Innoculist, and the Jonx in the studio with her because it opens up her music in ways that her last album couldn’t quite pull off and it’s not done in a manner that is pushy or overt but simply comfortable and confident. That’s not simply because the musicians are great but also because you get to hear that give-and-take between Hunter and those musicians. It may sound odd to consider a static object to be conversational and dynamic but trust me; inside these grooves is a beautiful dialogue - a conversation that you love listening-in on and can’t help but be wrapped-up in. That my friend is what all music strives to be.

*See Danny's correction in the comments.

Links:
Gnomonsong - Jana Hunter
Jana Hunter on Myspace




Tambersauro - One Picture Frame and One Half of a Picture
Rating



I have to love an EP where the first my first reaction is to belt out with a hearty laugh. Not a derisive mocking laugh but one of sheer surprise and giggly amusement. Now look, I grew up with a lot of admittedly cheesy Prog Rock so maybe I have a bias towards left field patchwork songs with shameless timing changes and crazy dynamics. If you hate that stuff, you may as well move along. Personally, when done well, I love it.

The EP side is one song that starts with this quiet drone then bursts into this crazy Rush fucking King Crimson while Rick Wakeman looks on thing. Hell let's kick in some Minutemen vibe right afterwards, then lets get a little Slint vibe, and then… well you get the idea. I’m not suggesting that they are just doing a mash up of styles or are simply emulating these artists but that these guys have clearly absorbed a lot of music resulting in some crazy ideas and all that stored up potential energy just exploded into an EP of unrestrained kinetic energy. Is it cheap to say that this EP is fun? Well, it is fun. And fuck if I’m not pissed that there isn’t more than just one side. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go clean up. That stuff on the walls is my brains that just exploded.

There’s another side to this two-band 10” split EP but it’s kind of dull, so I’ll skip it.

Links
Tambersauro on Myspace
Esotype Records



Gong – Magick Brother – BYG/Charley
Rating



This caught my eye the other day at Sound Exchange as I normally associate BYG Records with Jazz. What I got was a lovely introduction the Daevid Allen’s absurdist world of Gong - psychedelia for those who love for sounds and love having their brain tickled.

Curiously this is a product of visa problems that would not allow Daevid Allen (an Australian) to return to England from France with his fellow Soft Machine bandmates. Allen therefore remained behind (with the Scottish poet Gilly Smyth) and began playing dates. A band eventually began to form and in 1969 Jean Karakos of BYG advanced Allen money for three albums without a contract. Karakos got his money’s worth with this the first release - a psychedelic classic and clearly the first Gong album. *

The album is filled with freak-out soundscapes that are a headphone listener’s wet dream mixed with cheery and infectious songs. You get the vibe that everyone is having a blast putting this stuff together. Take gorgeous melodies add brilliant production, arrangements, performances and Smyth’s lyrics and you have a heady mix you can’t help but pick up and gulp down. In fact, my one complaint is that the lack of lyrics in the otherwise great packaging are a real travesty. Smyth’s lyrics have enough of a mix of the concrete and the absurd as to leave the listener wanting to understand clearly what is being said. Take the lovely Pretty Miss Titty with it’s rousing chorus of “Big Bad Businessman have you any ???” Any what? Arrg, clearly there’s juxtaposition of the chainstore worker and the businessman but it’s frustrating figuring out small parts like this. Ultimately, it hardly matters as it’s such clever music. The same goes for Gong Song where Allen explains his meeting Mr. Pothead Pixie – an alien from the planet Gong. I can’t follow the lyrics but it’s horribly endearing as a whole. Yes, that’s right, I didn’t make that up, Mr. Pothead Pixie from the planet Gong. If you have problems with that you gotta loosen up, roll a fatty, and leave your hipster shoes at the door. Until then we’ll be waiting for you on Planet Gong.

Gong on Myspace
Planet Gong

*originally released as Daevid & Gilly in 1970. Oh that biographical paragraph, by the way, this is all cribbed from the liner notes by (I believe) Fred the Fish and Sir Jon "Mojo" Mills.


The Moving Sidewalks – Flash – Akarma
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Here is another one of those weird 60s albums from my youth that I recently bought to see if it holds up. At first, I was a bit disappointed but clearly my Toyota simply couldn't handle the insane stereo separation of this album – this is best listened to with a pair of headphones. The good news is that the album holds up though not as great as it did at age 15. The biggest problem lay in any songs with Hendrix influences. Take Pluto – Sept.31st where Gibbon’s lyrics are simply awful and the vocals, which ape Hendrix’s delivery, don’t help. It’s simply too derivative which is a shame as the break with the backwards guitars and other psychedelic silliness are really great and throughout the song Gibbon’s guitars are brilliant. Lastly any ballads – no. Gibbon’s isn’t a crooner and the limits of his voice are apparent in songs like No Good to Cry.

But enough about the faults of the album, there are some gems that justify the album beyond simply a Pre-ZZ Top curio. The opener, Flashback, is bouncy 60s garage fun and one of the most inspired moments is Eclipse which a classic studio wank-o-rama. The song has hilarious background vocals over this amazing groove then degenerates into this craziness that simply has to be heard to be appreciated.

The bonus material is worth the price tag alone and the most fun. The classic 99th Floor with its distorted organ and driving 60s beat is a classic of the era. Here Gibbons’ doubled vocals are great and his guitars (no fuzzbox just an overdriven tube amp sound) are just a whole lot of fun. Their version of the Beatles' I Want to Hold Your Hand is simply unbelievable. When you hear the grungy performance you can feel a slight bit of the Texas insanity associated with later day bands like the Butthole Surfers. Need Me is also great fun garage stuff; you can almost see Gibbons swinging on a cable from the Hobby Center (as one hippy used to recount to me at Half Price Books). Really, this bonus material is the best part of this CD reissue because it’s just jump up and down 60s garage pop fun at it’s best.

The Moving Sidewalks on Myspace
Akarma Records

Claque – S/T – Big Deal Records
Rating



For fans of The Ex, Dog Faced Hermans, and The Donkey here is another album of angular riffs, spot-on time changes, and lyrics that are more shouted than sung, over guitars, violin, and drums. It’s great stuff. Those of you familiar with this community of musicians from the Netherlands will know what to expect. Lisa Fannen’s vocals and violin are crisp, sharp, and grab you by the throat as the guitars and drums chisel away. Definitely a nice addition to your Netherlands Anarco-Punk collection.



The Bent Mustache - Forst – Transformed Dreams
Rating

The Netherlands' Bent Mustache follows Claque’s love of the angular and precise but with a more melodic bent and a hilarious and often biting wit. For example, in Can the Man the lyrics come at rapid fire indignant monologue: “Your mindset is half hippy/ You are half middle-class/ Eating your designer organic sandwich / while looking at a clear catalog / You are the worst members of the old empire / eagerly awaiting another clash of cultures on the telly...” But it’s not all just aggressive in-your-face rhythm and noise. The Deadroom is downright shoegazer turf with it’s cascading guitars echo encased vocals, Tigers are Milking is fun and trippy synth-wanking, while On Leaving the World Tonight sounds like you heard it at 80’s dance floor. This album is proof that all those Anarchist Punks from the Netherlands can throw a party with the best of them.

The Bent Mustache
The Bent Mustache on Myspace
Transformed Dreams

Rating System

David Thomas (Pere Ubu): So good my head is going to explode!



Dave Thomas (Wendy's): Pretty tasty.



Dave Thomas (SCTV): Oh My fucking God! What happened to these guys!
*Reserved for bands that at one time were great.



Celine Dion: Hey, more power to the artist and the fans but leave us out of it.



Nickelback Dude: So bad that I'm only reserving it for the worst of the worst; I mean, come on, we're talking sucking worse than Celine Dion.