Wilco – Sky Blue Sky

For all the kafuffle surrounding Wilco’s quasi-futuristic Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in 2002 and – to a slightly lesser-extent – 2004’s sequel, A Ghost Is Born, it was hard not to smell the hype and dismiss the cynical feeling that Jeff Tweedy and co. were merely going through a mid-career chameleon phase to keep themselves and the critical intelligentsia interested, whilst the Americana boom turned to slump after the turn of the Millennium. Those who have explored the rootsier beginnings of Tweedy’s career in Uncle Tupelo and through the earlier Wilco albums would be less easily convinced that the current incarnation of his group is really a Stateside answer to Radiohead. Even the supposedly post-rock informed Yankee Hotel Foxtrot failed to conceal a strain of late-60s/early-70s rock retrophilia – specifically in the sonic shapes of “Jesus, etc.” and through the dewy eyed lyricism of “Heavy Metal Drummer” – more deeply ingrained in the band’s DNA than the likes of Mogwai, Sonic Youth et al. ever will be. And if there was any more proof needed that Wilco would rather have a time-machine enabled trip back to peak-time Topanga Canyon than co-headline a tour with Tortoise, then we can look no further than this, Wilco’s sixth studio album.

Although Sky Blue Sky is indeed this year’s most unashamedly romantic retro ride, anyone thinking that the group merely rolled a communal Camberwell Carrot on a weathered gate-fold copy of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s Déjà Vu, before laying-down a lazy tossed-off pastiche platter in the subsequent haze, should be more than pleasantly surprised. As a broad but not over-reaching venture, Sky Blue Sky draws together a rich gamut of references from Tweedy’s infant years. In some ways, the collection is a logical extension of Josh Rouse’s equally authentic and backward-looking 1972, yet there’s a wider and less-forced focus here upon the corpulent but creative years between flower-power and punk.

The gorgeous “Either Way” elegantly begins the journey with an uncharacteristically positive proclamation from Tweedy (“Maybe the sun will shine today/The clouds will roll away/Maybe I won’t be so afraid/I will understand everything has its plan”) gliding over a mellow Fleetwood Mac-meets-Jackson Browne fusion that paves the way for the prevalent disposition of Sky Blue Sky. There’s a skewed-soul vibe across the alternating smooth and soaring strokes of “Side With The Seeds”, that oozes with amiable Al Green-like lustfulness. Curiously compelling deep-fried guitar vs. Hammond B3 organ boogie grooves turn up on “Shake It Off” and “Walken” – which almost impossibly envisage Lynyrd Skynyrd jamming with Stevie Wonder. Tweedy and company don’t entirely restrict themselves to pure-cut American influences from the same epoch, especially with the self-deprecating “Hate It Here” pulling cross-Atlantic blues moves that would have slotted snugly in amongst twilight Beatles affairs like “Don’t Let Me Down” or “Come Together”, whilst elsewhere the wonderful “White Light” echoes The Stones’ masterful flirtations with gospel and country from Beggars Banquet to Exile On Main Street.

Certainly though, it’s the godfather of Americana shape-shifting – Neil Young – who seems to have inadvertently imposed the largest inspiration upon the album’s eclectic reminiscence. The sprawling six-strings and honeyed-harmonies of “You Are My Face” and “Impossible Germany” certainly hold an honourable debt to Young’s epic Crazy Horse-assisted affairs like Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and Zuma. Meanwhile, the lush lap steel, hushed strums and brushed drums of the title-track recall the most blissful rural corners of Harvest or Comes A Time. Yet for all the scholarly flashbacks throughout Sky Blue Sky, it’s the relatively contemporary-sounding “On and On and On”, with its shoals of shimmering keyboards, elevating strings and twisted guitar doodlings, that navigates proceedings to a reassuringly dreamy finale.

Whilst the nostalgia-soaked Sky Blue Sky will cause consternation amongst those who backed Wilco’s brave efforts to bend the staidness of plaid-shirted alt. rock, it’s still arguably one of the most charmingly-effortless records Jeff Tweedy has ever spearheaded. And in a musical world that still over-rewards its control-freaks and arrogant despots; he should be whole-heartedly applauded for just letting things happen (almost) naturally.

Flower-Corsano Duo – The Radiant Mirror

Chris Corsano and Mick Flower, the duo responsible for The Radiant Mirror, are apparently quite well known in the improvisational rock scene, which shows what I know. I am quite sure though, after listening to this three song EP, that these guys definitely have something great going and free-form instrumentals are their collective canvases. There’s about 40 minutes of music here that will keep your ears keenly tuned to the wide variety of sounds presented.

The three tracks, simply titled “Earth”, “Wind”, and “Fire”, elicit a diverse tapestry of organic sonic textures that suit the names perfectly. Although the songs give the absolute impression of jam sessions, Corsano and Flower feed off each other brilliantly. “Earth” makes me think of an awakening – sort of like one of those sped-up nature films where you are watching flowers grow and bloom at super high speed. “Wind” is much more subtle and almost drone like, with softly swirling rhythms that brush past each other in delicate eddies of sound. The final, “Fire”, is the longest of the bunch at nearly 20 minutes and here you will find Corsano and Flower spacing out a bit. The tone is somewhere between the first two pieces and the music is as mesmerizing as watching a campfire burn.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about The Radiant Mirror is the instruments. Chris Corsano’s drumming is spectacular and he manages some beautiful tabla-esque rolls that perfectly punctuate the Eastern feel of much of the music. Mick Flower plays something called a “shaahi baaja” or “Japan banjo”, which is actually an Indian instrument that is a kind of hybrid of a dulcimer and a fretted stringed instrument. Flowers’ plugged-in, electric shaahi baaja seems like a deeper sitar and the drawn out drones it provides are thickly layered on each song. Some might argue that the Japan banjo takes precedence here, but since Corsano and Flower both aided in the mixing of this disc I have to imagine the result is more than intentional.

Now that I’ve had a little schooling in improv free rock I feel like everyone should take a stroll through this EP. This isn’t just fade-into-the-background instrumental music, as The Radiant Mirror commands your attention without being too in-your-face. Slip in this disc, chill out or space out, and take a 40 minute break from the mundane with The Flower-Corsano Duo as your tour guides.

Brown Whörnet – Valamarano

There are only two reasons I would consider moving to Austin. First would be getting a chance to scream like a teenybopper during a live taping of Austin City Limits. Second would be a chance to see Brown Whörnet live. These guys rock out hard and like fellow Texans, Spoonfed Tribe, I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that they jam out some fresh and funkadelic numbers at their live gigs. That would give me just one more reason to love them.

I love them because they spell their name with an umlaut. I love them because the allude to a cheesy 40′s radio show in their name. I love them because they keep alive the spirit of Frank Zappa. I love them because they gave me a sticker and a flyer that spoofs Star Wars. I love them because they put Norse runes on the CD and did I mention that these guys rock!

Half Ween, half Gwar, half Zappa and the Mothers in 200 Motels, and half whatever these guys are smoking (perhaps some weed dipped in the magical, mystery liquid from the aforementioned Zappa film?). Brown Whörnet is a fun band that is as lighthearted as their music is heavy. The first track, “Schway”, starts out as a lounge style piece with wah wah guitars and crazy virtuoso ivory tickling. Most important about this song is the meaningful lyrics, “Schwee, schwee schway.” Schwee schway indeed.

Then we go into “Gobbalin” which is a crunchy, distorted Gwaresque tune. Growling and elven scat and vocals that make Cradle of Filth sound like Mary Poppins. This band is intensely musically talented and intriguing. Any fans of Adult Swim, Wonder Showzen or the internet’s Homestarrunner should immediately buy this. Also, I believe, but can not prove this, that if you play the songs backwards…they’re just as heavy. “Valamarano” is the title track. Again, I must refer back to Zappa with the Mothers. Though Frank was entertaining with his humorous themes and lyrics, musically, the songs were more challenging than much of the serious music of the period. Unfortunately no one ever told these guys “In this business you either gotta play the blues or sing with a high voice.”

Childlike enthusiasm is tempered by musical mastery and delight in doing something new, the music is definitely something to add to your collection. On “The Untokening”, the group shows off their ability to create epic jams without an ounce of self-consciousness or pretension. To hear these guys, check out their website http://www.brownwhornet.com and see their music archives.

The Preakness – The Preakness

The Preakness is a fledgling band out of Atlanta, and on this 4-track, self-titled EP, it shows. The band plays with an air of tentativeness, which could either be intentional or be a function of how short of a time they have been playing together.

Heartfelt lyrics and solid fundamentals demonstrate The Preakness’s potential. However, the four tracks don’t do the band justice or fully show of what they could be capable. On this album, the instrumentals are what stand out. Drummer Tim Genius and lead guitarist Brandon Arnold’s playing far outshines the lyrics and vocals. Their songs flow with an ease and relaxedness, but lack a certain passion. Brandon Arnold’s hesitant singing sounds like a quieter, unsure version of Death Cab For Cutie’s Ben Gibbard. Bassist Tracy Clark’s contributes pretty harmonies to complement Arnold. Despite these positives, something feels missing. With the release of a full-length effort, The Preakness will probably find their sound more completely.

Eskimo Kiss Records released this 7” EP in late March, and the band is currently touring in the Atlanta area.

Spoon – Baltimore – Sonar, MD – 2007-04-21

Even though it was a sold out show it was still surprising that the line stretched around the block shortly after the doors were set to open. Baltimore is a town notorious for hipsters late to arrive but apparently the kids here love their Spoon. Also surprising was the sea of bare female legs showing from under torn denim skirts. Either I’m getting older or this indie rock thing is really beginning to catch on with the youth these days. Either way it was enough to make me feel like a real pervert; someone who had no place amongst among the prep school kids. One fellow in particular, who I named Gigantor, was standing directly to my right once inside, blocking the view for the entire show. He seemed to grow as the night wore on. This is the unfortunate byproduct of a 9 o’clock starting date on a Saturday night I suppose.

One cannot go to a show in Baltimore for very long without eventually seeing local favorites The Oranges Band whether you want to or not. Each time I’ve seen them perform the line up has been different with only singer/guitarist Roman Kuebler and drummer Dave Voyles as the constant members. This time they were in a more stripped down performance with new bassist Pat Martin in tow and a utility player on back up vocals and occasional guitar. In time the songs have started to grow on me; they’re a cross between mid period Spoon and the punkier elements of Guided By Voices. (Keubler served as bassist for Spoon on Kill The Moonlight and GbV chose them to open local shows on their farewell tour.) Unfortunately there is always something I find irritating about them. The utility player was a distraction and didn’t have much of a purpose with the exception of coming out from behind the shadows to croon some backing vocals for only 2 minutes of 2 songs where he strapped on a guitar (that was more suited for Ace Frehley than The Oranges Band,) looking nervous all the while. Kuebler has done more than anyone for the music scene in Baltimore but when it comes to his own band, little stands out to set them apart from the pack on a national level. The crowd was quite large when they started but either wasn’t sold on them or was far too eager for the headliners.

When Seth Meyers, er, Britt Daniel and band finally took the stage the already vociferous crowd went into overdrive. Opening with a new song from the upcoming Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, wasn’t necessarily the bold move one would think as the audience was already right where the band wanted them. Daniel thanked everyone for coming out and stated they had never sold out Baltimore before. “Liar!!!” I thought to myself. In one of the great concert disappointments of my life (I didn‘t say it was a very exciting life), I was turned away at the door of a Spoon/Crooked Fingers show on the Moonlight tour as it had in fact, sold out. I held no grudge as the evenings set was heavily peppered with songs from that album as well as the most recent Gimme Fiction.

It has always been a bit of a mystery to as to how Spoon can pull off their songs in a live setting. Like Wilco they use the studio as an instrument and accentuate their songs with keyboard noodling or extra ambient noises. Guitars somehow seem singular yet layered and everywhere all at once. With only 4 men on stage I still have no idea how it’s done but they pull it off with great effect. The performances were fairly by the book, which as a songwriter Daniel is not, so it never became staid. “I Turn My Camera On” was a sexy as ever and “Jonathan Fisk” featured and extended guitar freak out. “Paper Tiger” took on a new feel with Jim Eno pounding the drums in rhythm with the keyboard. Not necessarily a new arrangement but a more impressive version than on the album. Fan favorites were in abundance from “Fitted Shirt” to “The Beast and Dragon, Adored” (Gigantor really loved that one. Needless to say I didn’t see much of it) but nothing any farther back than Girls Can Tell.

Where the highlights were plentiful the low lights were no lights. Stage lighting proved problematic the entire evening for the main act with a spot light on Daniel for at least the first half dozen songs, blinding him and Eno. My thinking was that either he had begun to believe his hype or he suffered from stage fright and chose not to see the audience. Turns out neither was the case as they asked the lighting to be changed several times with limited results. At times the stage went dark all but the band took it all in good stride. Daniel even joked “You don’t need lights for rock n’ roll.” Indeed.

Only several new songs made it into the set but each was just as good as what you’d expect. No names were given to any of them and in fact it seemed almost as though the band tried to downplay they had something new coming out. It was only addressed during the first song of the encore in which Daniel, performing a new track solo, made reference to spending last year working on a new album.

Ridiculous name aside, if Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and their live performances don’t push Spoon to the next level it would a great disappointment. But judging from the size of the crowd, and their age, it’s a good chance their expendable income will help it to happen.

the bird and the bee – the Bird and the Bee

Inara George’s little heard 2005 release All Rise was a decent set of artsy-fartsy electro-folk/pop, and just one outlet for her busy magpie of a muse. As the daughter of the late Little Feat founder Lowell George, her direction might come as a bit of a surprise. There is precisely zero of her father’s exquisitely funky, surreal and playful Countrified boogie, and instead a wholly Anglicized tapestry of delicate chords and cooing vocals, a grease-free, tuneful froth. An excellent froth, in fact.

Inara returns here with multi-instrumentalist Greg Kurstin as the Bird and the Bee for an even better foray into impeccable pop. The production is fancier, with all manner of state-of-the-art synthetics, but best of all is that the majority of these songs approach irresistibility, something only “What a Number” from All Rise managed, arguably. The duo offer highly polished melodies set against slick, creative tracks from Kurstin’s production toybox. There’s more than a bit of Stereolab’s sci-fi Tropicalia and a taste for jazz-esque chord progressions which, alongside all the syncopated synthesizers, reminds me a lot of Scritti Politti’s excellent White Bread, Black Beer from last year.

The Bird and the Bee is as light as a feather, for sure. It’s not throwaway, though; the darting melodies and twinkling keyboards are like some divine ringtone and the pair’s love of jazz standards is apparent in the harmonic reach and twists of their songs. And for irresistibility, opener “Again & Again” is hard to beat. With a rush of empty lyrics and just one of the disc’s many desperately clinging melodies, it’ll be the grooviest thing you hear played over the in-store radio at the Gap all this summer, I guarantee.

George’s voice is pleasant enough, though unexceptional, but since the fully crafted production de-emphasizes any individual performance for the sake of the whole, it isn’t really a significant drawback. A little more heft would be nice, since her gentle coo puts almost too fine a point on the sunny proceedings, but again, I can live with it.

“Birds and the Bees” is an especially yummy confection too, with a lovely, limpid verse and a cute chorus full of popping synths and a chipper monotone vocal. The breezy élan of a vintage Astrud Gilberto beach samba (or Astrud’s beguiling daughter Bebel) is particularly operative on this tune, but throughout The Bird and the Bee are similar moments of summery pop magic. The dangerously twee chorus if “My Fair Lady” may push your good-nature to its limits, but still you’ll have to admit it’s catchy as hell and a nice piece of writing. The silken beauty of “I’m a Broken Heart” should squelch any temptation you feel to complain, though.

It may be obvious, patronizing and a little insulting to point out that the scabrous among us need not seek catharsis in the Bird and the Bee’s nest and/or hive, but I always feel I need to, I guess I feel guilty. Should one feel bad at all about loving such an adorable record? If it’s good enough for birds and bees, after all…I know I can’t say no to this. Sumptuous ear candy, maybe a vulgar bliss-out in the midst of a shuddering world to certain inner critics, but maybe also a vivid refresher on innocent pleasures. The Bird and the Bee make me happy. Thank you, bird and bee.

Darkel – Darkel

Jean-Benoit Dunckel, half of the atmospherically electronic French duo Air, goes it alone on an album that walks (well, more like dances) directly in the massive shadow of Air. The soundscapes here are tighter, more direct, and crafted into poppy dance and dream numbers that are still full of the strange, spacey sounds and breathy, hushed, on-Xanax vocals that make Air so distinctive. Darkel unfortunately suffers from simplicus repetitis – almost every song is worn down to an extremely simplistic and repetitive musical and lyrics groove.

JB’s vocals sound androgynous and warmly mechanized – you can’t tell if it’s a guy or a girl breathing into the mic. The production and treatment of his voice make it sound like there is a soft halo around every well-enunciated, yet unemotional, syllable. The impression is of a machine trying to approximate the tones of the human voice. This stylistic distance, however, limits the scope of emotions conveyed and makes it difficult for the listener to fully escape into the music.

The first half of the album is more varied and interesting than the second half, with the opener “Be My Friend” sounding like a carbon copy of a Walkie Talkie-era Air song. There are compelling runs of piano notes, deep space quasar squelchy noises, and a ticking clock-type sound in the background as JB intones “Be my friend until the end of time.”.

“At The End of the Sky” is mid-tempo song filled with wavering, underwater-sounding piano notes, soft, steady beats, and JB singing more directly and in a higher, hopeful tone. The next tune, “TV Destroy”, delves into Japanese pop-rock with a faster tempo and a looped sample of a girl sighing in pleasure. JB himself sounds more feminine and there’s even a whacked-out harmonica break (on synth, natch) mid-way through the rockier number.

The pace slows down with “Some Men”, a contemplative piano ballad that also features strings and welcomingly treads on Air territory again. The bright piano lines follow JB’s low-key vocals and near the end of the song, a new-day dawning synth sound picks it up out of navel-gazing introspection.

“My Own Sun” is the highlight of the album – a jaunty affair, with upbeat rhythm, handclaps, and old-time piano. The lyrics are the most complex of the album (just barely), with JB singing “It’s our world, a place we all belong. It’s not mine, I’m on borrowed time.”

By the middle of the album, however, the brakes are applied and most of the tunes sound the same – slower with manipulated vocals, piano, contained beats, and ghostly backdrops of sound. “Pearl” is another slow one with a tolling-bell beat, steady piano notes, and twangy coil sounds, with JB singing lightly and in a higher range.

The repetition of the lyrics throughout the album really start to sink in by “Earth” as JB repeats the short lyric line “We belong to the earth… doesn’t belong to us” in a slightly nasal, cooler tone against percolating synth notes deep in the background and slowly drawn out melancholy synth lines and an otherworldly wordless chorale in the foreground.

“Beautiful Woman” mixes it up a little as an up-tempo, poppier number with manipulated vocals and looping tape noises, but the song eventually falls into a rut with no highs or lows – just the repetitive lyrics “You, beautiful woman, I love you like a fool. You, crazy young woman, will you turn me on”. That type of lyric gets old really fast.

Next comes the ‘serious song’, “How Brave You Are”, with synth piano notes and airy sounds -but JB’s lower-register vocals still have that slightly warped tone, like one of the Chipmunks but slower and at a lower pitch, which totally negates the serious tone of the song and lyrics like “Don’t cry for me my son, show me how brave you are. Your day has just begun…my day is done.”.

The instrumental closer “Bathroom Spirit” is a snoozer – too mellow for its own good. It just drags on with a slow, Casio recorder maraca-shaking beat, humming, minor chords, some Space Invader bleeps, tinkling piano notes, and a couple of zooming noises to break up the monotony.

The lack of complexity, tension, and propulsion in most of these songs is a big disappointment because the soundscapes are not grand and glorious enough to overcome the simplistic musical lines and repetitive nature of the lyrics. The one constant of Darkel is JB’s slightly distorted, helium-warped vocals which either warm you up or leave you cold.

Great Northern – Trading Twighlight For Daylight

From the album art to the lonely, melancholy music – and even the name chosen by the Great Northern quartet – it might be a surprise that this group in fact chooses to call California their home. Somewhere in Canada might be a more fitting location. Even their style might suggest as much with a likeness to groups like The New Pornographers or Stars, both featuring male/female duets over melodramatic music.

Featured heavily in vocals, Rachel Stolte, has a sound somewhere between Neko Case and Amy Millan with a soothing breathiness that fits well with Solon Bixler as a more airy Wayne Coyne. Their lush harmonies add an endearing quality to the album that helps to add a little heat to the chilly tunes.

A piano opens “Our Bleeding Hearts” with chimes and a spare sound that immediately harkens back to Wilco’s “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” but with much more order. Then, Stolte’s soft voice enters and all thoughts of Jeff Tweedy are pushed aside. Her vocals pull you in and instantly let you know that this group is on to something. Something good. Like many the bands mentioned thus far, Great Northern also like to fill their songs with dramatic sweeps of guitars, piano, strings, and anything else they can layer in for added fullness. At times Trading Twilight for Daylight is nearly bursting at the seams. It may have been nice to experience the group with a bit less going on, but that is hardly a major complaint. However, the computerized vocals in “Low Is A Height” does go over the top for me in terms of effects. I felt that actually took away from the song rather than adding anything unique or useful. It took what could’ve been a heart-wrenching ballad and gave it an unnecessary Enya feel that was more silly than beautiful. I would’ve rather heard the naked vocals of Stolte shine over the layered electronic strings.

“Just A Dream” shines on of Trading Twiglight with layers of Beatlesque strings over driving drums and guitar that all float along on a strong bass line. This song begins to move away from the softer side of the group. Later, “Telling Lies” is full-on indie rock with a hint of Snow Patrol added into the mix as well as fellow Los Angeles-based band, Silversun Pickups. “A Sun A Sound” lies somewhere in between and features New Porn-like vocal harmonies. But their bread and butter are the twinkling low-tempo beauties that dot the frozen landscape of their album. Sandwiched with piano-led opener “Our Bleeding Hearts” and closing with the “Babies”, whose music sounds awfully similar to Lemon Jelly’s “Ramblin’ Man”, the listener is left with a feeling of contentment that makes the chilly north seem like a good place after all.

The Great Northerners have taken studious notes from other male/female led groups and they do well with the dreamier side of powerpop. By splitting their debut album between cinematic anthems and icy ballads, they keep the listener interested and yearning for more. The band has carved itself out a spot among those to pay attention to in the near future. Now, as they continue to hone their craft and break out in their own unique way, the Great Northerners could easily emerge among the top artists in their genre. They certainly have the talent to do it.

Aqueduct – Or Give Me Death

Aqueduct is the name given to David Terry’s offbeat, one-man indie-pop project. But for Aqueduct’s second release on Barsuk, Or Give Me Death, Terry enlisted the help of a few friends and has given Aqueduct a richer and fuller sound with a bit more charm and a bit less quirk than 2005′s I Sold Gold.

But fans need not worry. While Or Give Me Death is different than I Sold Gold, it is also the same. Different in that the songs are smoother with less twists and turns while retaining the same peculiar bedroom-style pop. Different in that there are less syncopated synth beats and short, quirky guitar bursts, yet the same electrified vocal harmonies and atmospheric keyboard passages. Different in the use of brass instrumentation and brief explorations into new musical venues such as ska, electro and neo-psychedelia, but the same ingenuity used to arrange it all into twelve clever and uniquely stylized indie-pop nuggets.

The one constant is Terry’s twisted lyrical genius and inimitable crooning. In an uncanny voice with traces of Wayne Coyne (The Flaming Lips), Win Butler (The Arcade Fire) and Alec Ounsworth (Clap Your Hands Say Yeah), Terry sings about the oxymoronisms of the human condition with an insightfulness usually relegated to satirical literary types. The layered vocal harmonies and deadpan delivery soften his screak and make lines like “My heart is in the right place but sometimes it’s off course” significant to the overall effect of the tunes.

All of this is embellished with more sophisticated piano work and sharper songwriting resulting in sleek and vibrant indie rock glazed over with clever and cozy pop coatings that should actually have a broader appeal than the novel quirk-rock of I Sold Gold. The best examples of this modified euphony are the arpeggiated keyboard sparkles of “Lying In The Bed I’ve Made”, the undeniably catchy vocal phrasings of “Broken Records”, the sprightly horns and sweeping arrangement of “Just The Way I Are” and the rolling bass and plinking keyboards of “You’ll Get Yours”.

As Terry expands Aqueduct’s sound into similar neo-psychedelic indi-pop territory as Figurines, Islands and Of Montreal, he also shares their knack for animated and robust indie-rock. But Aqueduct do it in their own special way that will certainly please current fans and likely garner many new ones.

Bark Haze – Total Joke Era

The Bark Haze got their name from a mishearing of the 70′s group the Bar-Cays. It is here that we understand the background for the group’s album, Total Joke Era, a two song album over half an hour in length. Two tracks being entitled “Punch line 1″ and “Punch line 2.”

Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore provides one half of the guitar duo. The group seems intent on plumbing the depths of possible sound. Jimi Hendrix invented feedback as music, now, four decades later, the Bark Haze perfect it. The atmosphere of the work is heavy and Gown and Thurston create alien musical textures prodding their instruments to speak up and say something interesting. Harmonics, feedback, textural playing and other methods create the inimitable Bark Haze sound. It’s like watching a horror movie with no visuals.

Two guitars and some eerily beautiful sounds are created on Total Joke Era. The album is worth listening to for technical reasons, if for no other reason than to see the sounds these guys have made, but the magic is how they create a sprawling, modern piece of classical music in the vein of the experimental masters.

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