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Circle Of Dust

This disc took me several spins to have it grow on me. I really can't explain why I like this release, but I do. Maybe it is the way that the electronica, ethereal industrial and guitar components are crafted into outstanding compositions. The electronic parts lead into a guitar-laden hook, well mixed in with the programming and samples. Using a combination of distorted and sung lyrics with the occasional female vocals tossed in comes across well. No particular instrument is more overpowering than the others. Maybe I'm just the title to song number 3 "Yurasuka." This disc also contains a couple of simplistically disturbing instrumentals. The last six tracks called "Refractorchasm" are remixes combing the lyrics and music to the songs "Refractor" and "Chasm." Look for Klay and his partner Criss to release their new project called Angeldust.

-Steve Weatherholt
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Cradle Of Filth

Describing their particular brand of metal is difficult. First off, even though guitars are frequently used, they are only embellishments. The centerpiece is the voices--an intriguing meld of Dani, the basso and the soprano. The vocalists do not so much sing as they tell a tale, almost in opera form. Quite often it feels as though you are watching a horror movie without the visuals. You can almost see the visuals because their music is highly descriptive without words. They work in noise bites and their own screams and hisses and noises that sound unholy to create a language of their own. Dani definitely has a unique vocal style with the high pitched hisses and squelches--maybe the sound a bat would make when a stake has been driven through its tiny black heart. Keyboards are also quite prominent in the mix; mostly the kind of keyboard the Phantom of the Opera would have played, but sometimes they update so as not to seem a 1,000 years old. The guitarists (Stuart and Gian) weave their magick with their six-strings so that it rocks, but it doesn't rock so hard as to distract you from the voices. Cruelty and the Beast is spread over two discs so there is plenty for everyone. An extra bonus is "Bathory Aria" that pays fine, touching tribute to Countess Elizabeth Bathory (songs include "Benighted Like Usher," "A Murder of Ravens in Fugue" and "Eyes That Witnessed Madness")--mass murderer everyone could hate except Cradle Of Filth. I can see how she would fit in their glamorous, perverted, satanic world.

This certainly is not for everyone, but it is original and very creative and I think they are having a tremendous amount of fun thinking of the next idea to turn your stomach upside down or make your head spin in unnatural ways. I'd bet your virgin sister that they put on one heck of a live (sorry, undead) show, but I wouldn't stand in the front row (too much blood splashing about methinks).

-Sabrina Wade
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Ani DiFranco

The songs are spare, stark, and ruminative. According to the title track, "she's learning the spaces she leaves/ have their own things to say"--apparently there is much to say. "'Tis of Thee," the opening track, faintly echoes the opening title track of Castle but stays downtempo and offers a bitingly sarcastic tear on intolerance--leaving only a small doubt that this album wasn't just coincidentally released the day after celebrating Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday. That doubt is further reduced in "Everest," which points out that our personal differences only seem insurmountable because of our proximity and perspective ("from the depth of the Pacific/ to the height of Everest/ and still the world is smoother/ than a shiny ball bearing").

Overall, the lyrics are as vivid and strong as you've come to expect from Ms. DiFranco (particularly the anguished "Come Away From It"), but are hindered by the music's somewhat uninviting nature. Little of it can be described as "catchy" ("Jukebox," "Angry Anymore," and "Hat Shaped Hat" being possible exceptions) and when a song does pick up the tempo, more often than not it's a riff for the band to groove on. Now, I have nothing against a band obviously enjoying themselves and getting lost in the making of music (in fact, I usually complain that bands don't do it enough), but occasionally I like to be invited in so as not to feel like an interloping observer.

The band...the band is as tight as ever. Long time drummer Andy Stochansky and not-quite-so-long time bassist Jason Mercer continue to find new ways to make so much sound like so little, offering a Magic Eye picture which rewards the ability to let your focus shift from the foreground to the back. New addition Julie Wolf is hard not to notice, though; not only are her keys (organ, Wurlitzer, and accordion) a new feature in DiFranco's music, but her sound absolutely permeates the album and adds a welcome new dimension.

I don't really know what to think of this album. I quite enjoy it while it's playing, but don't foresee getting around to playing it that often. And I doubt I'll be hounding friends to listen "for their own good" like past (and, I assume, future) Ani DiFranco albums.

-Paul Goracke
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In his own words, Quik describes this, his fourth release, as being an exercise in "musical diversity." He claims his goal was to put the listener in an altered state of being. Like "bud-ism" Quik is attempting to give his audience a high, a musical high, through what he calls Rhythm-al-ism. But what should we call this new form of funk exploration, Q-funk? I was going to have to try this. So I sat down, munchies and beverages close at hand, and blazed up "Rhythm-al-ism."

Puff one: The first 20 seconds or so felt good, then something went terribly wrong. My chest started spasming and I coughed up my hit. Damn this intro into Q-funkedness wasn't agreeing with me. Some grape Kool-aid to stop the burning in my throat and I was ready to try again.

Puff two: Ah, yeah, now this was more like it. "We Still Party" was some straight uncut funk, lush and vibrant. Quik's used a little everything here, bass, keyboards, drums, etc. True to his ability and talent, he's credited with playing everything from the synthesizer to the percussion--damn. I need some more Kool-aid.

Puff three: Light dimmed, thirst quenched, I take another hit off the Q-funk called "So Many Wayz" featuring 2nd II None and Peter Gunz. More of that recycled Funkadelic here, the backyard summer party vibe is strong. Man, where's the Doritos, I'm starting to get hungry here.

Puff four: What the...? My living room's disappeared now and I'm behind the wheel of a huge convertible pink Cadillac. This really ain't me, but my boys in the ride are straight head noddin', while the radio boomin' out a track called "Hand in Hand." Light and flirty with a joyous kinda energy, this is perfect cruising music but where to? "Down Down Down" (track five) did nothing to mess with my buzz, and although the heads weren't noddin' as enthusiastically as they were a few minutes ago, they're noddin' nonetheless. When "Youz A Ganxsta" comes on, the maturity of one DJ Quik becomes instantly apparent. The vibe is straight positive as Quik dismisses the negative images that have been all too frequently applied to him. No gansta', gun-toting posturing here, this track is about him being a musician, a musical boy wonder if you will. Who just happened to grow up in a gang infested neighborhood. Is that a Taco Bell up ahead? I'm pullin' over, I need some food. My case of the munchies has gone critical, and my buzz is starting to wear off.

Stomach happy, head returning from the clouds I jump back in the Caddy and head for home. My bag of Rythm-al-ism is gone. There were only a few seeds in it and we named them "I Used to Know Her" and "No Doubt." Heads are no longer bobbin up and down now, instead all (with the exception of mine) are in full recline with caps pulled down snuggly to shade the eyes from late afternoon sun. Man! How'd I get stuck driving? Overall the Q-funk was nice, not perfect by any means, but cool. And I'm sure it's my feelings on this that has something to do with the color of my ride. Oh well, I'm not sure if the Rhythm-al-ism took me somewhere new (pink Caddy notwithstanding) but it wasn't your average 20 sack, that's for sure.

-Cecil Beatty-Yasutake
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Links:
Electric Frankenstein

-Sabrina Wade
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Forma Tadre

I had no idea what I was in for when I picked up Automate, Forma Tadre's first domestic release. I had heard Newt, the collaboration between Haujobb and Forma Tadre and enjoyed for the first time a drum and bass album. I enjoyed it so much I bought Automate.

I'm unable to distinguish whether or not this music is done electronically, although I've read that it is. It has an organic feel that you don't hear from electronic musicians. Andreas Meyer single handedly orchestrates this beautiful noise. His is a genuflection of how things were industrially--the place where found sounds and technology cross paths. A musical jewel.

With its gigantic washes of sound and color, Automate resonates in a place deep down inside yourself that you haven't discovered yet. It will take you far away if you let it; the whole album seems like one long, strange, and majestic journey.

Still, in all of its layered complexity, Automate is simple to listen to. As the listener, you get pulled in (by a force that I might compare to sleep paralysis) immediately by a familiarity that's hard to put a finger on. The title track is testament to this as it expresses itself in an almost soundtrack sort, flooding your synapses with visual clues you may or may not have seen before.

I've heard rumors of a Blade Runner sequel. Forma Tadre should be the only band considered for the soundtrack. If somehow you could substitute Automate in for Vangelis on the original Blade Runner, it would be that much more amazing. I would recommend this to anybody looking for something completely different that what you've been listing to. Oh yeah, and prepare yourself for a cerebral retrofitting.

-Jeff Ashley
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Links:
House of Kicks
Gluecifer

-Steve Weatherholt
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Damien Jurado

-Hope Lopez
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Meshuggah

Chaosphere maintains the level of excellence established on Destroy, Erase, Improve. Usually a band falls flat on their face following a masterpiece like Destroy, Erase, Improve. Jason (my fiancé) hates the vocals and I think for those uninitiated to the world of extreme metal, they will find them difficult to enjoy at first. Jens Kidman's vocals are angry, screaming and tortured-sounding, not quite full-on death metal growling, but if you crossed Butthole Surfer's megaphone squelching with death metal growling and threw in a metallic, machine-like tonal quality, you would come real close (I have no idea how his throat holds up, I'm just glad it does). Tomas Haake's drumming is phenomenal. The other band members contribute mightily, but I do believe that Mr. Haake has elevated his drumming to a new level (especially on "Corridor of Chameleons" and "The Exquisite Machinery of Torture"). Haake is also responsible for the lyrics, which are outstanding examples of literary prose adapted to a futuristic storyline. Fredrick Thordendal and Marten Hagstrom meld seamlessly for a dual virtuoso guitar performance. Thordendal is always a superlative guitarist. His technique is flawless and he is also quite renowned for his unique effects. Here's the rub, though: where so much of Destroy, Erase, Improve relied on the never-questioned talent of Thordendal, the beat and the continuity of Chaosphere is squarely in the hands of Haake. His drums are the glue that hold Chaosphere together, the frills and melodies are filled in by the rest of the band. The eerie and twisted guitar solos by Thordendal and Hagstrom only accentuate the steadiness and subtlety of Haake's drumming. All of the songs are brutal industrial metal, very similar to a much harder Fear Factory (Demanufactured-era) or Skin Limit Show. Hardness factor seven, my ass, this is concrete and steel, way too tough for corporate music rags.

-Sabrina Wade
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Muslimgauze

Muslimgauze's music is based around patterns, voices, and rhythms of the Middle East. These elements are either woven into landscapes of sharp, heavy beats and spasms of static or are torn apart and stripped to their very essence before being put down as the barest whisper of melody and ambience. Each release, so quick on the heels of the last, is a continuing examination of Bryn Jones' fascination with the rich music of a tumultuous region, a progressive litany that continues to innovate and surprise. Hussein Mahmood Jeeb Tehar Gass is a bold stroke, marred only by the unfortunate poignancy of its release date being only a week after Bryn Jones' death. It throbs with life, pointing Muslimgauze in a new direction that will remain an open-ended unfinished journey. Remixs Vol. 3 is an equally appropriate epitaph--the new remixed beneath a layer of the old. The matched bookends of ecstatic release and pensive grief, Muslimgauze-style.

-Mark Teppo
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Numb are pissed OFF! It has been a while since I've had the pleasure of so much warped, dissonant electronic chaos shoved steadfastly into every orifice of my body. Load me up, I just want more.

Numb use the great old electro/industrial formula that reached an apex back in the early 90's with Frontline Assembly's "Caustic Grip" and Haujobb's "Home and Gardens," which is to take electronic danceables and manipulate them into fast and furious works of post apocalyptic isolation. Thank God someone is still doing it, and doing it very well.

To get things going the album begins with two jackhammer fire drills, "Respect" and "Suspended." Both conjure up remnants of Ministry long gone. Language of Silence then switches to a more cerebral fare, even delving into twisty instrumental ground ("Illumination Rounds") that sometimes walks the experimental line.

To me Numb's true colors shine through on songs "No Remorse" and "Defiler." They conjure up sound and image on these songs that are unto themselves. Pretty original stuff that you wouldn't mistake for anyone else.

The whole of Language of Silence doesn't have fresh or original stamped all over it. In some instances I feel that this is its strength considering the lack of powerful industrial artists out there right now. I'd like to hear more of Numb's own special twist on more of the album's songs. Overall it's a tight, powerful earful.

-Jeff Ashley
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The Protagonist

Equally reminiscent of the lilting sweep of Humberstone twins' In The Nursery project and the bombast of labelmate In Slaughter Natives (two nominees for the category of "Best Use of a Prepositional Phrase for a Band Name"), A Rebours is composed of percussive underpinnings, brass sections on loan from Wagner, choral voices, the enveloping sound of a 1000 strings, sampled dialogue, and spoken entreaties. All of it blended, CMI-style. (For a slightly more involved discussion of that pigeonholing, see the "Hour of Monsters" in this month's Scrutinizer. How's that for an overt internal plug?) Each track is indebted to sensual purveyors of the arts who have gone before us, though not in the realms of music. There's Husymans, Thorak, Shelley, a little oracular proselytizing from the Chaldean followers of Zoroaster, Riefenstahl, and Poe. Sundström credits these as his muses and brings to each of them a sonic attribute heretofore unknown. It's an excellent release which gives birth to an inquisitiveness towards the sources. Not as a pale shadow, but as research to fully appreciate these eight songs. Literature is prized for added layers which unfold as the reader grows in experience. Music infrequently falls in that same category. It should. Here's a lead to follow.

-Mark Teppo
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Sally Firecracker

Yet how to accurately describe said sound, since so many aspects of it have come to be associated with something different? Strongly folk, but the kind you'd hear at a barn-raising, not a protest rally. A touch of the Celtic, but not the Enya, Pogues or Riverdance varieties. A strong core of rock, but not the stadium breed. Their songs unfold layer by layer, creating a story rather than a catch phrase. Every track on this album is strong, but I particularly like the Celtic-tinged "Mixed Emotions," the Middle East-turned-bombastic guitar rock of "Boomerang," the touching "I Was Wrong" and the whirling momentum of "So It's Like This." A most pleasant find, thanks to the local music listening station in the U-District's Tower Records.

-Paul Goracke
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Links:
Official Sebadoh Site

Thanks to the band's eclecticism and musical dynamics, the songs successfully vary from silly to plaintive to melancholic to raging. The album kicks off in a true lo-fi fashion, distortion and jangly guitar ā la garage rock in "It's All You." "Decide" is undoubtedly a song that can take you from zero to fifty in fifteen seconds flat with its steady backbeat, soaring guitar riffs and Barlow's great bark. However, comparatively the song comes off jejune unlike some of the more pop tracks. The single, "Flame," with its repetitious lyrics and rhythm is reminiscent of good ol' fashion pop songs in the vein of Phil Spector. It starts off a bit tinny with a basic drum beat but like a modern and funny version of Ravel's "Bolero," it builds with a whirlwind of textured distortion and soaring guitar effects. A lot of this record relies on great hooks--you'll find yourself humming "I've been thinking all day, that I've got nothing good to say/There's a world on my mind that I could really leave behind" (the first line in "Weird") in the same sing-songy Barlow way. You can even merengue a bit to "Cuban" which is an experimental track that combines latin rhythms with a rock edge. But more impressive are the "dreamy" love songs "Love Is Stronger" and "Tree" that Sebadoh has the courage to bless our cynical world.

-Hope Lopez
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Soulfly

I don't care at all for rap, but I do like the way Soulfly blends that element into their music. Only on one song did the rap element become too overbearing ("Bleed") and I'm sure that most people are more forgiving about rap than I. Most of the time, there is just enough metal to balance the rap ("Prejudice"). Soulfly really shines on "Eye For An Eye" (Soulfly's best song), "No Hope = No Fear" and "No" because the metal dominates and the tribal elements dance around the rhythms in a cohesive ritual. Metal is their forte although they have expanded the vocabulary of metal mightily; it now includes more styles than I ever dreamed possible. "Bumba" and "Tribe" mix metal and tribal in a stunning fashion, although the vocals come off a little weird on "Tribe," the song really works; "Bumba" doesn't fare as well, but that doesn't make it a bad cut, it just pales in comparison to "Tribe." "Soulfly" uses dub/scratch as a pervasive influence, slowing down and grooving like Rastas in the sun way too long. "Soulfly" would make Mick Harris and Bill Laswell proud. "First Commandment," "Fire," "Bumbklaatt" and "Umbabarauma" have a heavy tribal feel, mixed with a dub-like, hallucinogenic metal drone (esp. "Fire's" remarkable Hendrix-like guitar lines). "Quilombo" and "The Song Remains Insane" cross all boundaries by mixing death metal vocals with tribal elements and pushing the noise to max in a song format which the Japanese would give a nod of approval. "Bleed" also has heavy tribal and noise elements added to the annoying rap stuff. "Karmageddon" (great song name) ends with the joyous sounds of African children chanting and singing.

If you despise metal, tribal, rap or dub, do not even think about purchasing this disc, it would be beyond your capacity to enjoy. If, however, this sounds interesting, fly to the store immediately and purchase Soulfly because I feel it is unlikely that this mix can hold up through many albums. I could (I hope) be wrong, though. So guys, show us your mettle or metal.

-Sabrina Wade
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Tyrese

So imagine my surprise when after watching Tyrese's "Sweet Lady" video for the umpteenth time I found myself wandering the aisles of my second home looking for the single, only to find the full length CD on sale for the low, low price of $9.99. Now, I'm not sure what I did in my moment of excitement to draw an odd look from store security. Maybe it was the double back flip into the splits on aisle four or my James Brown shuffle or maybe it was the "we're not worthy" salutes at the feet of the store manager. Either way it was decided by those in charge that the attention I was attracting to myself was disruptive to say the least. After some Johnnie Cochran legal mumbo-jumbo and Bill Clinton word play, I was allowed to leave with my purchase.

On the drive home I took some time to reflect on what I was getting for my money. Sure, I liked "Sweet Lady," but that was all I knew about Tyrese the singer, other than the fact that he first came to wide attention when he appeared on a Coca Cola commercial. As my pink Caddy pulled to a stop, I started peeling away the plastic wrap on the CD jewel case. By the time I got inside, I was already untangling my fingers from the sticky security seal. I popped the disc into the CD player and boom, track one "Nobody Else" jumps out at me, light and refreshing, different. The base line thumps without overshadowing the light synth loop. The contemporary urban flavor of DJ Needle rocking a drum kick is used to bridge transitions and breaks together. The lights in my apartment dim, it's club time and things are just getting started.

Tyrese keeps this club vibe going with more fresh R&B rhythms on track two "Tell Me, Tell Me," featuring Before Dark for a little female vocal flavor. Okay, somebody call my chiropractor 'cause all this head noddin has got my neck killin me! This is groovin music, you can get your grind or your ride on to it. The bass guitar has just enough presence to make your ass wanna make like a '67 Impala and bounce. The keys and other musical elements are darker here with the only light coming from Tyrese and Before Dark's vocals. Okay, that's two in a row. Could we have something special here?

The mood on track three is a little lighter than its predecessors. Here Tyrese decides to walk that fine line between pop and R&B. No matter, "Promises" makes it three hits in a row and the dance floor in my living room is packed. I think that double back flip I did earlier at the store is starting to rear its ugly head in this clubbed out body of mine. Midway through this cut, out of nowhere, a female emcee starts rippin the mic a new one like it stole her man! Hands everywhere are pumping skyward, the roof is getting raised real high tonight, somebody warn the FAA. Finally a break in the action as Tyrese slows things down with "Sweet Lady." Hmmm, where did I put that super glue...

Now, the album is by no means perfect. Songs like "Give Love a Try" and "Ain't Nothin Like a Jones" had me scramblin' for the remote in search of the track forward button. But overall, this is a great addition to your R&B collection. And the interactive features make it a flat out steal at $9.99. You get the video for "Nobody Else," Tyrese's biography and photos. Even at regular price, I would recommend this CD to anyone looking for a good deal.

-Cecil Beatty-Yasutake
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Toyah Willcox was a punk priestess pioneer and flame-haired actress who got her start in Derek Jarman's "Jubilee," both singing and acting debuts, and was the opening feature in "Urgh! A Music War" (her performance did not make it to the CD however). As her work bears out, she was originally a poet who was infected by the punk phenonema of her time, creating a stage persona to reflect her various talents: acting, poetry, dance and music. Her early eighties catalogue has been almost unheard of here in the states and nearly unfindable, unless stalwart. By the time she married guitar-god Robert Fripp (King Crimson, League of Crafty Guitarists, ProjeKct 4, etc) in the the mid '80s, and subsequent collaborative works (her albums, Prostitute, Ophelia's Shadow, Desire, The Lady or the Tiger--with Fripp and his guitar class, and Sunday All Over the World) she was a solid British punkette phenomenon herself. She took her talents and created a stage persona part Puck, part Diva and part storyteller, with all the makeup of Kabuki theatre, alternatively inciting a riot and inspiring girl power, in a time period where anything went and there was barely MTV. Oh yes, the British have a lot of apologizing to do, mostly for Cliff Richard, but this virago of psychopantomimical anarchy, wrapped in plush English pop and tons of experimental Mary Quant cosmetics, had made the stage/club scene her own rock-musical force and was holding her audiences blissfully hostage. The diminutive (she is all of 4'11") tornado would take her brand of pop to the stage with fervor--and appreciation--often reserved for glitter era Bowie and pound out anthemic tuned poetry turned parables for the millennium. British audiences have seen her in movies (w/ Sir Lawrence Olivier in "Ebony Tower," 1998's "the Anchoress") and most recently in a Tennessee Williams two person play touring Britain and Scotland, but American audiences have just heard of her marriage and can't find her early period music, especially on CD.

Until now. The powers that reissue classic titles have pooted forth, again.

It's been a long, long time since I got very excited about a reissue or first CD issue of an older title. We all know why: the dates for release get moved or the early recording media still sucks, even though clearer or "I waited how many years for this?" Rabid fans of certain groups will buy any issue, anytime. How many of us had to replace LPs with CDs, only to discover that in a few years, we were buying the "gold" or remastered CD of the LP. It takes a really treasured CD reissue to get me goin'.

As with any artist who has a long catalogue to choose from, the "early years" are often a tortuously acquired taste one has to sift through to find the best stuff. Here, I'll give you a hint, with Toyah, it's the albums Anthem (EV SOPCD 263) and The Changeling (EV SOPCD 264). Both are a clear picture of the pop star in Britain in action, in the early eighties. While Anthem is a wonderful album of songwork, the CD I wish to speak about is The Changeling.

The Changeling, the musically stronger of the two, is a carny ride through the wiles and wends of a young girl's often outraged and certainly plucky world of perception. Powerful in its apparent honesty ("Are you sitting comfortably? Then, we'll begin..."), and stultifyingly lunatic ("this is the Mad Hatter's tea party...") in the very next line, the album's first cut, "The Creepy Room," continues on to challenge one's sense of self AND question the sanity of this woman. Her childlike delivery gets twisted all out of proportion as the album continues through some juicy pop moves and, er, anthems to the not-very-well-veiled conversation with a scaly beast over the efficacy of nuclear warfare, the Packt. All of this married to a solid studio-ish background of too-stylish-for-America, three-piece band, drivin' music, never overshadowing the rantings and lyric calisthenics of the women voted "favorite female pop artist" by the British press and public.

As with most reissues, there are a bunch of "extra" songs. In this case, singles, most of which have not seen the CD format, and a couple of B sides. This enhanced CD has a video, "Thunder in the Mountains," from a non-stateside video collection (a rare thing, that) and a real snazzy control panel to twiddle with. The packages are glorious and glossy, if not smaller, and do have a bit more artwork. Many of Toyah's titles feature her in a guise, or makeup experiment for cover art. The Changeling is no exception and her alien pixie image is delightful to see, printed with modern techniques. The entire CD is finally available to my remote control, and computer as well. And does it ever sound better than ever. I am not one to fight those who would like to say that analog is this or digital is that...I just prefer the convenience of having it all on one medium and, very importantly, with the random access option. Being able to use a remote control and digitally skip, segue and choose (and see all the wee bits of information) is what makes a CD superior to its predecessors outside of the aural range of things. Yep, now I get to point the remote control and hear the nearly silly "Life in the Trees" and skip back to the uptempo and uptight "Angel and Me" afterward. Woo hoo!

-Bruce Gordon
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