New Shapeshitter track – Shit Shaping Live From the Cellar

Good news – I finally got up the initiative to make a new track, this time live and with a lot less drone and a LOT more noise. My equipment is pretty minimal – I had a wireless mic connected to a Peavey XR 5000 mixer, plus a Peavey XM 6 mixer for buzz, both connected to a Peavey amp. I also used an audio cable connector to hook the mic into to create some high-pitched assault.

A few things before you listen – this recording is minimal, and it’s not going to hit you over the head with a wall of noise. Instead, you’ve got some buzzing and some feedback pitches snaking through the mix, with a little bit of vocals towards the end. THIS IS LOUD AND HIGH-PITCHED. You should probably turn your volume down a bit.Think of it as a cross between Prurient’s Roman Shower and Dead Machines.

On that note, I hope it blows your ear drums out. I know mine were when I was making it. Enjoy.

Check it out!

The Golden Sores – A Peaceable Kingdom

From the opening moments of A Peaceable Kingdom’s first track, “Double Gyres,” it’s difficult to pinpoint just what will become of The Golden Sores’ new record. Will the droning organ discard its slow buzzing sustain for a more prominent melody? Will the tones that take the forefront become a lead-in to post-rock leanings? How many layers will they use, and will they combine together in an effervescent climax?

As is soon apparent, though, The Golden Sores bring about an uplifting drone concept. Fuzzy, shifting, and pulsing layers push and pull, finally converging together in most songs to create a swell that is often magical and high-spirited. Oftentimes, drone can be a very dark genre, focusing more on the low end of the audial spectrum rather than higher notes. The Golden Sores prove that bleak, grim songs are not the only compositions to entrance a listener, however, as their hypnotic brand of peaceful (as the title suggests) and exultant drone is so effective in inducing trance-like qualities in the listener that it serves less as ambience and more as a sense of enlightenment.

Most of the songs on this disc tend towards a simple setup – start with a slow-moving rhythm, preferably one with sustained chords, snake in a more melodic and generally louder layer, and gradually move towards a crescendo of shimmery bliss. But while almost every song on the album follows this format, it doesn’t get repetitive simply because of how varied each song becomes. There’s something to be said about Steve Fors’ and Chris Miller’s virtuosity with their keyboards and their push-pull duality. When the layers are apart, they are constantly thriving around and through each other, where the listener loses no focus on either part. When they are together, it feels rightfully so: an inevitable convergence of two patterns that creates a stronger whole.

One may be thinking that The Golden Sores’ more upbeat, optimistic sound would lose their interest; part of the draw of some noise and drone is its confrontational demeanor. A Peaceable Kingdom may be peaceful as a whole, but a brooding tone encapsulates parts of the lengthy songs. “The Awful Rowing Toward God” starts out menacing with low bass-y notes, only to escalate into a more joyous eruption. “We’ll Wield Fire” begins with ominous buzzing, only to slowly work in a lulling organ. And most importantly, not all of the songs collide with each other into an ecstatic climax. “Klonopin” is content to hum away in aural bliss, acknowledging the fact that it needs no flashy conclusion. For those who like their music a tad harsher, The Golden Sores deliver as well. The mix for some of the songs’ crescendos can get very loud, a suitable dynamic for the album’s more triumphant heralds. There’s a lot to like and pick out here over repeated listens, mainly because some of the more subtle layers can hide their natural elegance on first listens.s

A Peaceable Kingdom delivers its title with a grace and finesse that emphasizes the lamb that graces the album cover. Even the simple picture exudes the album’s main feature – a shimmering mass of pleasant drone that leads one to believe there’s a bright future ahead of the two artists, one that hopefully includes more of their brand of fresh, epiphanic sound to stand out in the dark wash of bleak drone.

Buy it here, please

Piandrone goes on and on

Got another (exciting) piece of digital catharsis here for everyone who has been checking out my one song as Shapeshitter. This is still a short experiment in drone, but there’s a bit of harsh noise feedback going on as well. This time we’ve got a recurring organ theme downtuned to utter shit-inducing lows, plus a few Slayer guitars, one of which is adjusted so much that makes that squealing sound. PLAY AT HIGH VOLUME. I hope it startles you, at least a little.

Again, these are just short demos, done on FruityLoops. I’m not trying to get “big” or “popular” or become “mainstream,” they’re for my own and hopefully others’ pleasure. If you enjoy them, why not tell me? Or if you hate them, I’d love to hear from you too. And any suggestions would be more than helpful.

Shapeshitter – Piandrone Goes On and On – 2:50

Experimenting with drone and noise myself

Below is a demo experiment I created using FruityLoops software. It’s mostly drone with what FL calls a Slayer guitar sound, muffled, feedback’d, and detuned all to nothing. There’s a few different guitar parts going down in there to create the fuzz, but I realize it’s not doing a hell of a whole lot besides a very reminiscent Sunn O))) song off of OO Void.

Right now I’m just messing around, not really knowing what I’m doing. At this point, it’s all digital, and I don’t really have any equipment to do this as a live recording (nor do I play guitar or know a lot about electronics), so most of my forays will be digital for right now. I’ll probably mix some more later, preferably longer and more varied than this first one. I’d love to hear something about it (tips, likes, dislikes) – Matt, got anything to add?

My moniker is temporarily Shapeshitter I guess. Thought it was clever…

Give a listen?

Shapeshitter – Drone 1 – 3:00

Matt Henshaw’s Unfurled, finally!

Matt Henshaw brings the noise with his release Unfurled, a 75-minute long sprawl of oscillating industrial drones and metallic clanks and blips that remind one of underwater submarine life on a sub doomed to a life of hell. In fact, this is one of Henshaw’s darker, harsher forays, one that literally furls and unfurls into minimalist, extended low notes and high pitched squawls.

It’s the softer minimalist aspect of the track that draws this listener in, what with the ever-underlying hum and the quick clanks and patters that suck the listener into a dark lull. The subtle, rolling drip-drips coupled with the low notes are calming and pleasant to the ears, designed to put on in a trance. After a while, squealing feedback works its way over the drone, penetrating that trance in an homage to the track’s title, unfurling what was glacially built up. The feedback of the track is harsh and unsettling, and although it’s a nice jar from the quiet solitude of the minimalism, they sometimes proceed a little bit too long.

This listener enjoys, however, the subtleties that Henshaw plays with, an experimentation within lower and higher volumes. Though repetitive, the track mimics its title, slowly pulsing its way towards dark oblivion. It’s slightly creepy, too, and a good listen for late-night spooks. The industrial tones of the piece are more reminiscent of Henshaw’s 320 than his previous works, and a lot more inaccessible to those not familiar with harsher noise. But Henshaw’s ability to lull the listener and then snap them out of the gentle hands of the drone is captivating, even if the feedback does make for a very difficult 70 minutes.

This is not easy listening, nor is it a track meant to be taken in pieces. To get the full experience out of Henshaw’s album, one must take in the entire track, which is no easy task considering its length. If one can get past these hurdles, though, there’s a harrowing experience underneath that Henshaw has provided. The hum of the radiator will never sound the same again.

And again, Henshaw has dedicated a lot of time and energy to the presentation of his work, wrapping the album’s case with a nice tie to again emphasize the importance of unfurling.

Buy it here

New leakage… starring Kylesa!

Some good releases are shaping up for 2009; I’ve already talked about some of Merzbow’s (Somei), Napalm Death’s (Time Waits for No Slave ), and Cattle Decapitation’s (The Harvest Floor). But wait; there’s still more.

The Appleseed Cast’s new album has recently leaked. Titled Sagarmatha, it takes us through TAC’s ever increasing fascination with post-rock, coupled with their 90’s emo undertones. Oh yeah, it also has some killer xylophone like the cover promises, and it jumps through moods like a pregnant woman. Might review this soon.

Kylesa’s got a new one coming out that just leaked a couple days ago. It’s Static Tensions, 40 minutes of sludge/stoner rock at it’s best. There’s some good tribal drum beats going on, female vocals, and some of the heavy Kylesa riffs you know are modified to crunchy goodness. I just picked it up and am already a big fan, even when their older stuff was starting to wear on me.

Who else have I been listening to lately…

…And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead also released a new album, The Century of Self. I haven’t given the band too many listens, and all I know of their output is their last album, So Divided (which I wasn’t too huge a fan of), and this new album. I’m digging it a lot more, especially the early-to-mid portion of the disc, and it’s got some cool little ditties on there. Check it out.

Black Dice have made a good comeback in my book with their new album Repo. I was not an avid listener of 2007’s Load Blown, and while it was okay, it wasn’t anything spectacular, and certainly not as fascinating as some of the other noise rock that came out. It felt like they were doing Battles badly. But no… Black Dice have given us a new album full of rhythmic noise that, while returning to the same form as Load Blown, is executed a lot more successfully. I’ve been chomping on this one a little bit, though still not my favorite.

Also got some new Zombi, called Spirit Animal, that came out a little while ago. Dark synths, horror soundtrack-esque stuff coming out of the duo that comprise the band, and while I don’t feel this album is as good as their previous masterpiece Surface to Air, it’s still got some great synth sine waves going on. I really like it when Zombi’s pieces take on a darker vibe, but the lighter stuff is still working for them here.

I think that’s about it for right now. Cannibal Corpse released a new one as well (Evisceration Plague), and while it’s in the same form as other CC and it brings some heavy riffs to the table, it’s not varied enough for my tastes for me to give it more listens. Dude, give us some new drum beats too. The same old blasts for every song with barely any fills leaves a lot of us drummers wanting more.

In other news, Cursive will soon be releasing their highly anticipated new album (at least for me anyway) called Mama, I’m Swollen. I’ve heard a few songs off of it – two of them done live which I wasn’t that impressed with – but the other two that I’ve heard are promising mixes between Cursive and Tim Kasher’s other band, The Good Life. Some sweet, sweet sounds coming from Kasher’s mind that I can’t wait to implant into my brain.

Right now, I’ve got some noisy/free-jazzy Jazzfinger on. It’s my second listen, and I don’t know if I like it or not. It meanders and I can’t really grasp a direction. We’ll see…

Keep listening… Matt, I’m getting to your album, I swear! Going home this weekend to give it a listen on my stereo.

Merzbow’s Somei

So far, I’m impressed by what it’s bringing to the table. Part drum solo fest, part destruction, it has equal parts of both that make it interesting in two layers.

Interesting to note how Masami Akita leaves some of his static-y ambience out of the songs, focusing on more of the drums and less on the noise at some points. I think that’s what’s different here than in his recent releases; he’s trying different things here, rather than just layers upon layers of surging, squealing undertones.

In other news, I am working on reviewing Matt Henshaw’s album Unfurled. I meant to listen to it at home on my nice stereo this weekend, where it should be properly listened to, but I didn’t get a chance. I’m still holding out for that opportunity.

The philosophies of Noise/Music: A History by Paul Hegarty

But is it a history?

This is one of the things that struck me as I finished the book. One does not have to worry if the book is well-written – it’s almost too wordy and garrulous for the normal reader. In fact, I would suggest being accustomed to philosophical works, and not expecting a thoughtless pulp read when you pick up the book.

Noise/Music: A History chronicles the uses of noise (i.e. cut-ups, harsh noise, digital, analog, etc.) through the late 1800s until now. It follows a course from early classical music, free jazz, progressive rock, power electronics, industrial, up until the rise of harsh noise, glitch, and the use of sampling, while also contributing a complete chapter to Merzbow’s work.

While Noise/Music does present a very factual, interesting look at the evolution of noise in music, it doesn’t serve as a great introduction to noise music for the uninitiated. The use of certain selections of noise, and Hegarty’s delving into the inner workings of each section’s meanings, are critical readings which seem too in-depth for a supposed “history.” It feels as though Hegarty is expecting the reader to know and understand his philosophies into what makes noise what it is – and though he does explain in the beginning that he did not want the book to become an extensive and pretentious discography of his album collection, to me, it became just that. Instead of Hegarty explaining the history in general of a certain style of noise, he takes certain albums – probably ones that you’ve never heard, due to the sheer enormity of the noise genre – and critically analyzes them, explaining in needless detail their point to society and their cultural relevance. Honestly, I just wanted to know a little bit more about the noise genre in general, rather than be immersed in a philosophy of noise and sound that I really couldn’t contemplate the meaning of.

I did learn, however, how describing noise can be put into words. Also, some of Hegarty’s points on the validity of noise as a genre of music seemed true. However, over all I felt that Hegarty’s take on noise was too long-winded and complex for the noise beginner. If you would like to have an introduction to the noise genre, I would suggest looking elsewhere. But if you’re a student of noise and sound, this would be a really relevant introduction for those looking to join the noise genre.

Catch this on Blogcritics

A listen to Matt Henshaw’s Bury Me Before I Die

Matt Henshaw recently sent me a review copy of his album Bury Me Before I Die, one that I was looking forward to as I’ve heard some of his other releases like 320, Pull Him Along, and Hollow Stone Space. He uses a combination of noise, drone, and more “normal” guitar riffs in his music, along with what seems to be some improvisation.

When I received it, I immediately opened the package up to see the album’s packaging. Henshaw’s album has a very DIY feel, as it comes in a DVD case with a picture of a river running under a stone archway. He printed it himself, and even when the printing of the song titles didn’t come out well on the back, he wrote them down on a little note and attached it. Inside the case is a baggie of dirt and a sheet of paper, with a hand-drawn human form, and the note “Cut out the figure above, write on the figure the qualities/thoughts you want to move past, fold and bury.” And then I thought, “So THAT’S what the bag is for.”

Everything is hand-written, showing how much time and effort Henshaw actually puts into his work and his art. It also shows how much he cares for it.

The disc starts out with “Sergovkiln,” a fairly traditional guitar piece, solo-esque and resembling Henshaw’s work on Pull Him Along. The tune is fairly straight-forward, and creates a nice and catchy melody to have stuck in your head. Yet the guitar is slightly fuzzy, signifying that this experience isn’t going to be only improvisational soloing. And in fact, track 2, “Zamanzor,” leads us into a fuller drone that “Sergovkiln promised with its fuzziness.

“Zamanzor” features low, fuzzy pulsing drones, slowly working its way towards development. Its repetitive wah-wah like effects, its pulsation, and its ability to slowly build on itself create a hypnotic trance, where one reaches the end of the 5 minute song wondering where the time went. Its length seems shorter due to the trance it induces, and the wavering between highs and lows in pulse mimic that of a heart monitor of a patient undergoing frequent scares. It ultimately ends up fading out before the track can finish, reminding of Merzbow pieces that seem to go on indefinitely. “Zamanzor” remains one of the better drone pieces that I’ve heard.

This leads into “Tass,” a short inclusion of digital noise instrumentation. What this most reminds me of is a staccatoed aluminum can song, with cut-ups and a slight hint at an underlying rhythm. It’s an enjoyable little bridge of noise between two drone pieces.

I had a little trouble with listening to “Vyasovkha,” as the review copy that Henshaw sent me seems to have an error at 1:37 in the song. However, I was able to listen from 1:39 on, which uses a repetitive droning guitar pattern, with squelchy,  crackling noise. It goes from low notes to high, piercing tones, and at times it seems like the crackling electronics will overtake the guitar and converge into one mass of noise. Yet once we hit the 6 minute mark, the noise seems to drop out a little bit, allowing the drone to continue without ending. Enjoyable and hypnotic, just like Zamanzor, it’s an interesting listen because of the battle between noise and guitar.

“Bissmillah” ventures into ritualistic chanting and electric fuzziness, the only track on the album to feature voices of any kind. The guitar is relatively distorted like the rest of the tracks, but what really adds to this track are the chants that really change it up from the other songs. While the song is short, it adds a flavor for me, one that signifies that Henshaw has really thrown tons of influences into this record. When the guitar drops out at around the 2 minute mark, ending with a lone chant, it feels as though what was important to this song was less the drones and fuzz of the guitar but the mantra of the voice, and the chants had been another instrument to create the atmosphere.

We move on to “Sokhir Bukh Alakh,” a static-y pulsing tune of feedback buzz, and come back to “Sergovkiln” via a reprise, yet it’s not the same guitar that we’ve heard in the first one. It resembles a circus ditty, almost bell-like and synth-y in tone, fading out but reminding us how far we’ve come into the stretches of noise from the first track.

“Enerhothar” again differs from the other songs in that we get a tinny, distant sound much higher than most of Bury Me. It most reminds me of bestattungsinstitut’s foray into vibraphone on the self-titled LP. Again, the tones are coupled with background noise, but the sound is slightly clearer than earlier. It seems we move closer to the sound source, understanding that it seems to be some sort of altered guitar that we’re hearing. A clever use of distance in this songs keeps the audience listening, always on the verge of understanding but never fully. As we near the end, the noise becomes more prevalent, hinting to us that the noise is always forcing its way back to the top and cannot be transcended.

“Krasnorad” is a deep, dark abyss of drone, slowly shifting almost unnoticeably, slight pulses stretching out of the darkness. It is fuzzy, it is black, it’s the perfect song for a long ride home at midnight. And it shows that as we have moved along through Bury Me Before I Die, this is where we end – a dark crevice for us to lie in, the deepest depths of drone, neverending – a perfect, hypnotic sleep.

Henshaw’s ability to combine different forms of noise and drone, along with more conventional guitar, stand out here on this record because of how perfectly it seems to fit together. The short tracks, what one would call interludes on CDs in different genres, bridge the gaps between conventionality and droning noise perfectly, recalling to us that the noise could be our unwanted attributes – and yet the noise is enjoyable, always coming forth, and that if we don’t bury it in “Krasnorad,” we may keep them forever.

Oh, and the great packaging of Henshaw’s album doesn’t hurt to sell the album.

Visit Matt Henshaw, buy his music

View this album on Blogcritics