Siltbreeze   Page 2

Kitchen's Floor

Look Forward To Nothing

Siltbreeze

Loneliness Is a Dirty Mattress, the debut LP by Australian trio Kitchen’s Floor, made many ponderous pinetop’s top ten list in 2010 and with good reason. The band aptly channels an adroit cacophony that recalls the former glory of past Aussie noise / punk gnashers such as Rejex and Feedtime with such élan that one might suspect Toohey’s Sheaf courses through their veins. On Look Forward to Nothing, new drummer Joe Alexander (also found in the excellent combo, Per Purpose) gives Kitchen’s Floor a much more thunderous drive, with the the results sounding not unlike a cage match between (the Australian) X and The Gordons. True, the pummeling is without quarter and there’s blood everywhere. But take stock, friend—it’s all yours! Which just goes to show that the best thing about beating your head against the wall is that it’s to Kitchen’s Floor. Look for the band Stateside late August through September, touring coast to coast and also dealing pain at Gonerfest 2011. Aloha.

Far Out Fangtooth

Pure & Disinterested

Siltbreeze

Existing in the musty shadows of the Philly scene, Far-Out Fangtooth have built a most unique foundation of sound, mixing early Cramps swamp / garage blackout, nascent Bauhaus post-punk / quasi-goth bleakness as well as an uncanny nod to the witchy, ethereal leather glam of first-generation Blue Öyster Cult. Their debut LP, Pure & Disinterested, follows a limited-edition 7-inch for local label Ian! Records. In recent months, Far-Out Fangtooth has seen live action on bills with the likes of Times New Viking, Circle Pit, Blank Dogs and R. Stevie Moore. The band intends to launch a full-scale US tour to coincide with the release of Pure & Disinterested, so keep your eyes (and ears) peeled. Limited to 500 copies; features free download card.

Watery Love

Die With Dignity / Leave Me Alone

Siltbreeze

***Another two shots of bilious commentary courtesy of Philadelphia's best band at the moment. The A-side is penned by Richard Charles; a litany of condescending, sneering lyrics behind the roar of what sounds like the gear shaft of a Kensington garbage truck being stripped out and blazing a path of fire down Girard Ave. You know, the kind of good timey tunage you can only light up somewhere between Mecht Mensh & Iron Cross. The flip is an interpretation of a song written by Louis Allan Reed. But Watery Love's cover eschews all manner of hip, uptown vibrato found on the original, preferring to accessorize their stud w/the leather & switchblade swagger needed in a sketchy, downtown milieu. You know, the kind of controlled lunacy you can only sniff out somewhere between John Cale & Chain Gang. Thick black vinyl pressing housed in a sweet high gloss sleeve. One time edition of 330.

Axemen

Three Virgins

Siltbreeze

Originally released on the inestimable Flying Nun label, Three Virgins came and went in the blink of an eye in the mid-’80s. After dormancy a mere quarter century in duration, this beguiling masterwork sees the light of day once again courtesy of Siltbreeze. Setting up shop in Christchurch’s State Trinity Centre over Easter holidays 1985, Axemen went to work recording every sound and second they could capture during the legendary lost weekend. Fueled by enhanced adrenalin (Tiger Blood) and superhuman zeal (Adonis DNA), they chewed up dozens of reels of tape, assaulting all those who entered the erstwhile ecclesiastical chamber with a barrage of splendiferous blabber ’n’ croak. The resultant 88 minutes sound like a mutant hybrid of Trout Mask Replica, Exile on Main Street and Tago Mago. Add to the pot one of the most eye-popping post-psychedelic full-color gatefold jackets ever designed in the brief history of time and you’ve got a dazzling, exultant combination that could only be described as winning!

Vacuum

S/t

Siltbreeze

Although they only got a couple of spins around the earth's axis, Vacuum was the band who wrote the clay tablets from which all great Christchurch bands would glean substance to formulate THAT sound. Originating in 1977 & consisting of members Bill Direen, Stephen Cogle, Peter Stapleton, Peter Fryer & Alan Meek, Vacuum perfected an aural symmetry that fused classic Nuggets, Roxy, Elevators & Velvets moves as a template & this unique plonk would become germane for all that sailed after. Deep collectors will recognize these tracks by name from various prior releases, but these particular recordings-culled from 78/79 rehearsal tapes-are being made available here for the 1st time, EVER. 'Kicks' would go on to become an early staple in Direen's Builders discography, but the guitar on this version is particularly & wonderfully unhinged. The beautiful serenity of Cogle's 'Shade' - masterfully driven by Meek's keyboard--is as crisp out of the gate as the later honed version familiar in the oeuvre of the Victor Dimisich Band. The real thunderclap of the bunch is 'Accident' (another take can be found on The Builders 'Beatin Hearts' lp) where it sounds like someone spiked the Tia Maria with peyote & as a result, the band has psychically disemboweled 'Heard Her Call My Name' & fed the guts to Amon Duul. One time edition of 300. File alongside; Six Impossible Things, Pin Group, Builders, Victor Dimisich Band, Above Ground, Scorched Earth Policy, Dadamah & Terminals.

Pink Reason

Shit In The Garden

Siltbreeze

In the four years since Siltbreeze released Pink Reason’s Cleaning the Mirror, Kevin DeBroux’s subsequent singles and EPs have been concise, individual statements, together charting an atlas of depression and the struggles with a darkness that threaten to swallow him up every day. Compressed into Debroux’s five- and six-minute songs are weeks, months and years of labor and experience, not the least of which are his travels to places where he catalyzed and received underground energies—from Wisconsin and Ohio, through Melbourne and Santiago de Chile, to New York City. Try to map out how these songs are put together, and one finds that the apparent simplicity of DeBroux’s riffs and chord progressions gives way to an epic complexity. Now that the dust is settling and the commercial concerns of a thousand “lo-fi” projects have vacated the underground for a better life in the dorm rooms of America, the influence of Cleaning the Mirror on the past half-decade is clear. And DeBroux is still here, using cheap technology, creating rich, enveloping psychological environments, giving voice to a restless inner life—manifesting drum-and-bass beats, hardcore dissonance, Ian MacCulloch’s larynx—and blooming like sunflowers amid the debris.

Melchior, Dan

Assemblage Blues

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!! “As Dan Melchior continues to kick the Medway gutbucket to the curb, he is also willfully absorbing all manner’ve underground cankerous crud along the way. For those endeared to wallet chains and crisp, cuffed jeans, this has been tantamount to heresy. But for thems what’s embraced the sounds of “the new Dan,” said aberrations are as welcome to caustic ears as a cold beer is to a set’ve parched lips. And while last year’s Visionary Pangs LP (released with Das Menace on the S-S label) was a grower and a half, Assemblage Blues snuffs it as if it were no more’n a sneeze in the wind.  “This here LP seemingly vibes from such leftfield Blighty heavies as Instant Automatons and L. Voag as well as the dark side of Alex Chilton (think Dusted in Memphis) and the 3:00 A.M. shudder of Prominent Disturbance. Within the canon of the Siltbreeze label, Melchior’s magnificent malarkey on Assemblage Blues has secured him a spot somewhere between The Shadow Ring and Jim Shepard. The pone don’t sizzle much hotter than there. And the sneezin’ is nil. “I’d bet this ain’t your Dad’s Dan Melchior. Not by a mile. But if it is, it’s only ’cause he’s back from the future. Just ask him. He’s glowin’ to tell ya.” —Roland Woodbe, Professional Writer  

Hank IV

III

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!!   I don't care how many goddamn cute hobo bands there are out there right now. Not two runny shits. There's something Hank IV knows that few other current "of interest" bands realize, and it's a painfully simple thing: guitars were meant to sound like this, not that (pick something). That's as plainly as it can be put. This is twin-guitar punk rock in a class of its own, driving more than dueling and hot-sauce-free. I'd say "power with taste" but then I'd have to kill myself. I will say that III is Hank Baby's third and finest album yet and they are, in short, a band whose every move is worthy of your utmost attention. "For this record (their second for Siltbreeze), Thee Hanks opted to spend zero dollars and buried themselves deep inside their very own Shill Building studio for a good, long while. Sightings became scarce. Promises of "work" being "done" were made but who really knew what was going on? To be fair, The Shill has its fair share of distractions. Imagine Plato's Retreat, except like a basement in the Tenderloin. I think they only went outside for sandwiches from the East Coast West Deli on Polk Street, like that one time in the street when Bob McDonald told me about that Venom single he owns for the seventeenth time. Pffft... Bob, playboy, inventor (of "The Full Compliment") and as powerful and confounding a front-man as you're likely to find ambulating in...

Circle Pit

Bruise Constellation

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!!   Glimmer Twins infatuation--well, some folks can pull it off, others cannot. We all know how well Royal Trux rocked 'n' cocked it through the '90s, and now in the second decade of the 21st century, Circle Pit have sauntered into the boozy sway with their debut LP Bruise Constellation.Seemingly born out of the tar and tobacco of Nellcote / Exile on Main Street-session blooze, Circle Pit ably finesse a torn and frayed sound that's as retro as it is original. Oozing raw talent and possessed with uncanny sensual / sexual osmosis, Bruise Constellation will have you believing it's the Summer of '72 all over again (again). Look for the band to tour US with Pink Reason in August."... fuses elements of scum rock, garage and straight rock to create songs of detached cool, displacement and frustration."--Spook Magazine"Circle Pit is the type of rock band that most others are too lazy to be: aligned closely with tradition but replete with the type of individuality and wit, honesty and intimacy that is usually shed in favor of blindly channelling riffs already written. Bruise Constellation sheds light on the gaudy subterranean sleaze of a Sydney rapidly devolving into a Ballardian capitalist nightmare--all tidy swept streets, pedestrian free thoroughfares and oiled seven-to-when-you-pass-out workdays. It's also the catchiest record you're going to hear all year."--Mess + Noise

Doozer, The

Great Explorers

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!!   Originally released as a CD on the UK label Pickled Egg in 2009, Great Explorers is the second full-length effort from one-man dynamo The Doozer. Siltbreeze was delightfully chuffed to make its acquaintance (by way of Matt Valentine's suggestion) and agreed to release it unto all the world on the much-sought-after vinyl format.Hailing from Cambridge, England, The Doozer bears an almost uncanny vocal resonance to past legend Syd Barrett, as well as a knack for cobbling together occasional found-tape narration with string-strum and hypnotic percussive plonk not unlike The Shadow Ring. The gin doesn't come much pinker than this. Great Explorers is limited to 500 copies and includes a free download. Look for a possible Doozer East Coast American tour in August."The Doozer makes angular bedroom psych-pop from guitar, keyboards and drum machines. He insists that he 'builds' music, and it's an apposite word. Sheet Music has a lovely constructed precision underlying its surface awkwardness, with a gift for finding chords or sour melodic twists that initially sound wrong, but turn out right. His counter-intuitive logic and oblique associations put him in a lineage connecting The Incredible String Band, Kevin Ayers and Billy Childish, but most of all another Cambridge alumnus, Syd Barrett. The Doozer has a voice of his own, though, and the quavers and quirks of songs like 'Dogwalking' and 'Burn the Tape' lodge themselves in the brain with strange persistence."--Sam Davies, The Wire"The Doozer furrows a...

Fabulous Diamonds

Fabulous Diamonds Ii

Siltbreeze

***The second full-length outing from Fabulous Diamonds is a continuation of the lush and mesmerizing electro / percussive landscapes explored on their self-titled debut LP (released on Siltbreeze in 2008). Jarrod Zlatic and Nisa Venerosa spark lots of musical embers along the way: dub, trance, house, ambient, minimalist, hints of Suicide and Terry Riley--basically everything from Silver Apples to Silver Apples of the Moon. Fabulous Diamonds are equally at home in indie gulags, art galleries or disco gullies. Fans of the more esoteric side of Siltbreeze--Blues Control and US Girls, especially--should be mightily chuffed by the beauteous hypnotic (hypnagogic?) pop Fab Ds are laying down here. Look for the band to tour Europe in mid/late 2010. Received a 7.4 rating from Pitchfork.  "Part minimalist drone, part dub, and part pagan sleepover incantation, Melbourne, Australia's Fabulous Diamonds specialize not so much in songs but in pools of unease.... They embrace bass frequencies instead of treble, easy tempos instead of manic energy, and a full-bore penchant for the macabre. But where similarly minded Southern Hemisphere contemporaries like Naked on the Vague brandish sharp edges and jagged textures, Fabulous Diamonds songs are smooth enough to run your fingers over." --Pitchfork

Galbraith, Alastair

Mass

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!!   That Alastair Galbraith should return to the Siltbreeze fold (responsible for his debut LP, Morse, in 1993) for his latest release seems practically tailor-made. But while Morse followed traditional avenues of rugged folk narrative tinged with psychedelic foxing, Mass is an unchartered, one-way trip through a world of ritual.Consisting of 22 tracks, this new album runs the gamut from mysterious beauty to just plain mysterious. Broken guitars, percussive loops, backwards tracking, a (homemade) glass harmonium, lullabies, bagpipe thievery and the odd bit of fighting talk are just some of the many bricks laid here, with Galbraith himself as the mortar and Amiel Balester, Michael Kohler and David Kilgour providing assistance here and there. Mass is an expansive whopper prepared to go anywhere and do anything to get there.

Chickens

Chicken Shit

Siltbreeze

Debut vinyl outing from Kyle & Mike (2/3rds FNU Ronnies + drum machine) following a cassette on Fan Death as well as a track contrib on last year's 'Skulls Without Borders' 10" comp. Can't say for certain where Chickens mine the toxic ore to forge their urk, but they uncannily tap into similar staub once snuffed by prime Euro movers such as early Dieter Meier & Geisterfahrer not to mention channeling the nascent vibe of Amphetamine Reptile (think Halo of Flies 'Insecticide Stomp' in particular). 4 tracks, 1 time edition of 400, no repress.

Rep, Mike and the Quotas

Stupor Hiatus

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!! Stupor Hiatus culls the complete recorded works of the original Mike Rep and the Quotas, dating back to 1974 and moving forward into the early 1990s. Essentially a reworking of the Stupor Hiatus Vol. 2 LP released by Siltbreeze in 1992 (minus the questionable original artwork and mysterious French-language insert), this definitive collection is that record in its entirety plus six additional tracks, four of which have never before been released.This double-LP includes the legendary "Rocket to Nowhere," a lovely instrumental interpretation of the 13th Floor Elevators' "She Lives in a Time of Her Own," a cover of Roky Erickson's "Creature with the Atom Brain," a shout-out to the Strapping Fieldhands ("In the Pineys") and fifteen other immortal tracks. Those who already know, know. But if you're only familiar with the name Mike Rep as a producer for such acts as Guided By Voices, Strapping Fieldhands and Times New Viking, here's your chance to get caught up with a back catalog of extraordinary capacity. Before there were peckerwoods buzzing about lo-fi, Mike Rep--fed by a love for B-grade horror flicks, (the aforementioned) 13 Floor Elevators, Velvet Undergound, Kim Fowley and (blech!) The Doors--was concocting a mash of home-recorded punk, pop and psychedelia for a few fortunate ears. This isn't the Sunset Strip or Lower East Side, folks, it's Grove City, Ohio, a scene ruled by codeine, cannabis and Carling. So be prepared to hunker down with a fuzzy, furry and fried collection of 20-plus years...

Puffy Areolas

In The Army 1981

Siltbreeze

LP INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!! For the past few years, Puffy Areolas have been fritzing synapses and scorching the landscape with their corroded psych / hardcore scree. Enlightened by the most unhinged charters of Acid Archives and Killed by Death alumnus, the Puffies' sound might best be described as embodying the Stooges' Raw Power if your pretty face had gone to hell. There, it would have encountered (among others) White Boy and The Average Rat Band, Tampax, Opus and Mag Amplitude for an eternal damnation of scarred depravity, the excesses of which would be legendary even by Hades standards. In the Army 1981 is its own sadistic brand of plastic surgery, heavy on the anesthetic, short any bedside manner. Rude and ready for action, Puffy Areolas will forever be the bull in the china shop. And if that's China White you're talkin' about--well, friend, meet your new Daddy.

Mount Carmel

S/t

Siltbreeze

The trio of Matthew Reed, Patrick Reed and Kevin Shubak--heretofore known as Mount Carmel--hails from Columbus, Ohio, but if you're expecting lo-fi, greaser's palace pop a la Psychedelic Horseshit or Times New Viking, think again. Mount Carmel is a straight-up blues rock power trio. And by straight-up we mean sans revisionist three-dollar currency, Sub Pop grunge hybridization or ironic posturing. These guys have been weened on a diet almost steadfastly consisting of British blues/rock innovators: Peter Green-era Bluesbreakers, Cream and Ten Years After are immediately recognizable in their sound (in fact, the latter's "Hear Me Calling" is covered on here). This isn't a lark or something these guys are doing between noise projects--it's their life. Good, old-fashioned rock 'n' roll, plain and simple. Some folks never made time for punk, just like you've always snubbed your nose at the drum solo. Hard to believe, right? But just because you didn't live through it the first time doesn't mean you're not doomed to repeat it. The piquancy of '70s-era redbud fusing with the aroma of banana- (or strawberry-) scented paper burning and hanging in the air, the sweet cascade of Ripple hitting the back of your throat, the blurry exotica of Rorer's ubiquitous 714... it's all here, undeniably, unpretentiously and unwittingly realized. In fact, their sound is so genuine, you'll swear you were dead! Or at the very least unborn. Dig it.

Naked On The Vague

Heaps Of Nothing

Siltbreeze

LP VERSION INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON!!! For this second full-length effort, Naked on the Vague eschew their tantalizingly sparse duo attack for a quartet line-up, and the results are as sensational as they are sinister. While the rickety, no-wave splat found on previous efforts had its appeal, the heft of a "proper" rhythm section has only helped Naked on the Vague delve deeper into the landscape of post-punk murk. Bleak, unrepentant, withering and droll, Heaps of Nothing is a 21st century codification of the gallows wit and mesmerizing otherworldliness of (Dub Housing-era) Pere Ubu, Primitive Calculators and Lemon Kittens. Shuttling mutant urbanity from past to present, Naked on the Vague is only too eager to confirm that the Earth isn't flat. Because Heaps of Nothing is here to flatten it.Look for the band on tour throughout their native Australia and, later in 2010, the US and possibly Europe.

C & B, The

S/t

Siltbreeze

The C&B is short for Cat & Bells Club, a brief precursor that would soon be transformed into the estimable poetics of The Shadow Ring. Studious fans of the band's releases may recognize this name from the whimsical word search found on the back cover of their 1995 Some Of Us 7-inch. Ah, finally; mystery solved & now all the ducks are on the pond. While early Shadow Ring managed to fuse equal parts Tyrannosaurus Rex mystical recitations with Throbbing Gristle aural idolatry, The C&B seem divinely born out of the sputtering taps of brown ale that flowed freely down the gullets of various first-generation DIY shufflers, most notably, 49 Americans or Door And The Window. And while this is just dumb luck, there's no denying a genus, unintentional as it may be. The templates for the ruminative, droll & original wordsmithing not to mention the threadbare musical accompaniment that would soon become the hallmark for The Shadow Ring sound are now available for the first time ever in a 300-press 7-inch, four-track EP. Original artwork by founding member Graham Lambkin.

Bren’t Lewiis Ensemble

Three Christs Of Ypsilanti

Siltbreeze

As part of the 25th anniversary of the Butte County Free Music Society, Three Christs of Ypsilanti follows Induced Musical Spasticity 4xLP (BUFMS, 2009) and roughly coincides with The Bren't Lewiis Ensemble's At the North Pole, Easter Day, 1982 (upcoming on What The...?) and, if the master tapes rescue succeeds, the soundtrack to Esther's Brother Is Missing by Maria Estevez. Recording and performing primarily in the mid- to late 1980s, with sporadic efforts in the early 1990s, this barely organized enclave based in rural Northern California ingests and disgorges outsider free music a la Smegma and other bent LAFMS trippers, the UK's A Band, 5 Starcle Men, and the sort of visionaries currently promoted by labels such as Chocolate Monk, Destijl, and Ultra Eczema. Members of the Bren't Lewiis Ensemble later migrated to Vomit Launch, Glands of External Secretion, The Idiot, Needles, Serious Prblmz, and Bananafish magazine. Each side of Three Christs of Ypsilanti is dominated by tracks whose lengths meander into double digits. On Side A, "Take It Out and Kill It" is a murky glance at mortification via caninicide, with its ancillary fleas, cockroaches, and especially worms. This is the only large group recording on the album, and as such whirls around in conflicting directions in a manner that one backwater critic long ago described as "schizophrenic muzak." A completely different version of this track was previously released on the Maggie Is a Dot cassette in 1984. On Side B, "Dark Surprise," a 1986 recording from the crossroads of DIY...

U.s. Girls

Go Grey

Siltbreeze

INCLUDES FREE DOWNLOAD COUPON. The second full-length release by U.S. Girls is an even more fully realized excursion into a hazy alternate universe where pop vocals and muzzy scree fuse in harmony.Go Grey conjures up ambient aerosols while luminous kaleidoscopes of sound sizzle, peak, and explode. Megan Remy is a chanteuse from (perhaps) the future, guiding all who choose to sail an evocative trip through her unique aural hallucinogenic landscapes. It's a journey of lush vistas, warm currents, and complex beauties. 23nd-Century-style, of course. So come aboard and see why U.S. Girls is being hailed the Eno of the '50s--the 2250s! Can you imagine? Let's hope so.

V/a

Skulls Without Borders

Siltbreeze

A 10-inch compilation of exclusive tracks from some of America's hottest rockers. CHICKINS are 2/3rds of FNU RONNIES and wriggle like Geisterfaher tucked into a cheesesteak, DAN MELCHIOR fuzz-belts another droll pearl of wisdom for the scene, PUFFY AREOLAS fuse Hawkwind with Tales Of Terror for a trip down Hell's beltway, TOMMY JAY & FRIENDS breathe life into a hillbilly calypso, SIC ALPS blindside a Kevin Ayers cover and KURT VILE/VIOLATORS evoke Neil Young/Crazy Horse off the beach and onto a cannabinoid submarine. Limited edition of 300, double silkscreened, black on black front sleeve w/screened and hand-stamped reverse. One time edition.  

Tropa Macaca

Sensacao Do Principio

Siltbreeze

Sensacao Do Principio is the third release proper from Tropa Macaca and their first with an American label. Their previous efforts on Ruby Red and Qbico were magnificent (though hard to find) efforts of blotted, aural sci-fi codifications somewhere between Anar Band and Blues Control. The two-track full-length continues their foray into post-psychedelic instrumental morphine, where Moolah's LP and Pink Floyd's "Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict" function as templates for the greater good. In other words, you gotta hear if for yourself.  "[Marfim is] three long tracks of cyclical minimal percussion stampede from a Portuguese experimental duo taking a somewhat purist approach to ambient noise. All three offerings are based around the same type of sounds, and adjust accordingly to suit pulse patterns and overall attack. If you filed off all the sibilance from Esplendor Geometrico and filtered it through the liquid, abstract psychedelic vibes outgassed from Black Dice's last few efforts, you'd get something approaching the sputter and cavernous tracks presented here. "Tronco Nu" takes up a full side and has the longest build, but its eventual "melodic" denouement plays off as striking and somewhat emotional. "Zona do Bicho" steps up the aggression and comes closest to full-bore noise, but never lets go of the beat it's anchored to. "Poco da Morte" ends this satisfying debut by taking a tattoo gun to Can and Blue Cheer records from across the street, building in intensity along the way." --Doug Mosurak, Dusted Magazine

Mantles

S/t

Siltbreeze

With two acclaimed seven-inches under their belt, The Mantles answer the call for more with a stunning debut LP sure to please all who cross its path. The Mantles have been dead-on in distilling a contemporary pop / psych concoction that mixes equal parts early Chills with early Dream Syndicate--and really, who among us wouldn't want a bottle of that with which to quietly tipple the day away? Recorded by Greg Ashley, the LP taps said hybrid, and if anything, burrows deeper into the core of rock, extracting essential magma that fuses early SF Ballroom psychedelia, Byrds-ian jangle-pop, and the Velvet Underground's extraordinary ability for serpentine leads and bridges. And yep, that pretty much covers all the bases. Look for the band to embark on their first US tour in September, supporting Ty Segall coast to coast. "... a vibe somewhere between the crisp gauze of Midwest groups associated with the early-'80s garage revival (Vertebrats, Plasticland, etc.) and the mysto-stroke of late-'80s New Zealand." --Byron Coley, The Wire  "... really stokes the node in its uncanny similarity to old-school Paisley Underground--you know, before it had been so sadly tagged. The strains, strums, and streams that permeate so lost and wonderfully ... remind my tired soul of early Leaving Trains, The Last, as well as the roster that made up Steve Wynn's Down There label." --Roland Woodbe, Siltblog

Axemen

Scary! Part Iii

Siltbreeze

The second entry in Siltbreeze's Axemen reissue series, Scary! Part III originally saw light as a cassette-only release in 1989. Most bands and fans active in the Christchurch and Dunedin scenes at this time could tell you, sans embellishment, how the prolific Axemen blazed through the '80s (new cassettes seeming to come into existence on an almost daily basis), and, in classic Rashomon style, a different story would be told by all willing to reminisce, though it's safe to say everyone would agree that Scary!'s beguiling je ne sais quoi is some of the band's most intriguing blat to date. Unlike the hyper-punk-charged pastiche of Big Cheap Motel, Scary! operates from a gestalt concept and sensibility. While on the surface the contents might sound fragmented, ruminative, or obfuscatory, dig deeper (or listen better) and you'll see (and hear) the mystifying ooze lactating out of the four sides of Scary! not as individual, insurmountable constructs of bizarreness, but as a coherent pattern of brilliant phenomena that is--in a word--scary! Novice ears that have made it though this Bunyanesque giant find themselves making comparisons to a mixture of S.Y.P.H., Royal Trux, and Ptose. All one can say, really, to such hodgepodge is "congratulations." After 20 years and counting, this release refuses to be aptly pigeonholed. Hell, even a seasoned horror chomper such as Shirley Jackson (were she still croaking) would advise giving these guys a wide berth. They mean business and their business is mean. Or as the poet (and bartender) Bing...

Blues Control

Local Flavor

Siltbreeze

A few years back, former Quiet Sun / Roxy Music / 801 behind-the-scenes mastermind Gill Manzanera--no relation to guitarist Phil Manzanera (whose real name is Philip Targett-Adams)--offered up a beguiling reminiscence of those heady days to the Swiss fanzine Sombre Reptiles: "What we were trying to do, you see, was harness the future into the present. However, we were severely at odds with technology, a ring modulator on a Fender Rhodes and a bit of funny business through an analog synth being about as far as one could go then. The work with Quiet Sun was the foundation, then later Phil and Eno built upon that within Roxy and if only Ferry had acquiesced to Brian having a go at 'Bogus Man,' I think the results would have been stunning (as well as longer-lasting). But alas, so then for 801, the decision was to incorporate the progressive and avant garde through a chamber of fusion (so to speak), the results of which are undeniable. Mind you, this was all during the burgeoning punk era, so it took a bit of time for some to settle in with what was happening. But isn't that the future, really; someone has to be the first out the door to know if the rest of us will need a jumper or not. It was all quite brilliant in that way, absolutely so, I should think." Hmm, well, that all sounds... quite English. Oddly enough, that sliver of quinine-sotted nostalgia could be used as a swab of...

Tyvek

S/t

Siltbreeze

Following a gaggle of seven-inches for goose-y labels such as X!, What's Your Rupture?, S-S, and M'Lady's Records, Tyvek delivers a long-player that couldn't make Siltbreeze happier were the colonel slathered in foie gras and seared to a crisp.  A few tracks on this effort are familiar to any who saw the band live in 2008; the rest, well, it's as fresh as new fallen snow when you get right down to it. Combining an uncanny channeling of The Urinals and early Mekons, Tyvek drops jaws to floors with solid acorns of repetitive punk/pop numbers that became oaks almost instantaneously. The inclusion of Damon (a.k.a. Teets of Puffy Areolas) brings in another sonic dimension and suddenly the band's set veers into a Velvet Underground-by-way-of-The Feelies stratosphere. Here yuo'll find a mixture of both, the blend of two perfect worlds. Practically a year in the making, this baby is worth every second of the wait.   The band recently performed at the 2009 Siltbreeze SXSW Showcase (and elsewhere around Austin that weekend). A European tour with Cheveau is scheduled to follow.

Eat Skull

Wild And Inside

Siltbreeze

Eat Skull's Sick to Death received worldwide accolades for its frantic pacing, unimpeachable lyric quality, and nugget after nugget of pop hooks buried under a gob of lo-fi muzz. On this follow-up, fans and critics will find a cleaner, more inimitable Eat Skull at work. Frontman Rob Enbom has outdone himself with both lyrics and structure on Wild and Inside, and the band as a whole rises to the challenge of nixing the lo-fi tag for a sound that's less... antecedent. Gone is the wall of crud that prevents discerning listeners from identifying the instrumental play-by-play; in its stead, a set of crafted songs recall the paisley punk of The Last and the rural-delica of Great Plains, as well as nodding to the sanguine pop of early Flying Nun bands such as The Double Happys. Wild and Inside is a grower for the ages. It breathes deep and exhales perfectly.   Look for Eat Skull at this year's SXSW and trekking the world over throughout 2009.  "On their first album Sick to Death, the Portland, Ore., band Eat Skull mashes together almost everything that's great about trashy art-punk, weirdo fuzz-garage, skuzzy punk-pop, Kiwi garage-rock and off-kilter bedroom-strum. ...once your ears adjust, you realize that it's all killer, no filler." --Pitchfork (8.3 rating)

Axemen

Big Cheap Motel

Siltbreeze

Siltbreeze joins Sleek Bott Industries for a series of vinyl-only releases from New Zealand's legendary Axemen. (Little) Stevie McCabe, Bob Brannigan and Stu Kawowski have recorded decade's worth of priceless tuneage, some of which, it only seems fair, should finally see the light on a format suited to their chutzpah.  The first one out of the gate is the trio's 1983 Big Cheap Motel, their difficult third album, their protest album (following the blistering, insane, and completely live debut Equinox and the studio / live tribute to punk-dub-beer-noise-cubism, Mick's Dancefloor (Mix)). Rarely heard outside the Southern Hemisphere, this montage of rough-and-ready live performances and Peterboro Studio recordings teeters on the precipice of chaotic genius alongside such stalwarts as Alternative TV / Hear & Now's What You See Is What You Are and 1/2 Japanese's Loud.  Says McCabe, "Bob and myself went down to check out the Christchurch Botanic Gardens, the scene of the summertime concert-in-the-park series of free outdoor events sponsored by the local council and Big M milk drinks, only to find the park plastered with billboard-sized posters of scantily clad young ladies advertising the sponsor's wares. We immediately scrapped our set list--which extolled the joy of festivals and praised the council and Big M milk drinks as worthy town governors and milk-based food products, respectively--and replaced them with a set of 'protest' songs about the travesty, which were performed at the event, to the mild annoyance of the council and the sponsors. Following this brutal coming...

Ratas Del Vaticano

Mocosos Pateticos

Siltbreeze

Ratas Del Vaticano ("Rats of the Vatican") are a quartet hailing from Monterrey, Mexico, who assail ears with a most excellent assemblage of punk spew that can best be pitched as "KBD-like." Some of the slicker dicks out there will be familiar with Mocosos Pateticos ("Pathetic Kids") already, as it was available for a short time in 2008 as a download on David Serrano's Nene label. But for those unconcerned with being the emperors of ice cream, Siltbreeze put their money where your mouth is and are making this fantastic release available on the much-in-vogue LP format.  Originally formed as a drunken joke (where have you heard that one before?), Ratas Del Vaticano quickly realized they were onto something. With the addition of Violeta on bass (fresh from a quick stint as second guitarist for Los Llamarada), the band felt solidified enough to cut some tracks. And, man, can these guys slice 'n' dice! Guttural, sneering, cynical, sarcastic, Ratas Del Vaticano dish it out in buckets like rancid pozole. Tack on the crude, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants recording quality, and you've got a monster to rival the likes of Sods, Mentally Ill, Guilty Razors, Sperma, or Tampax in the pantheon of Killed By Death's greatest scuzz gladiators. Pressed in an edition of 700; look for Ratas Del Vaticano to play the Siltbreeze showcase at the forthcoming 2009 SXSW in Austin, and maybe even a US tour later in the year.

Der Tpk (teenage Panzerkorps)

Games For Slaves

Siltbreeze

Der TPK liken the sound of their second aural onslaught to "[The battle of] Kursk, second day." Who among us cannot relate to the largest tank battle in history? While the comparison may not be an easy nut to crack, the reference, specifically to the second day, is telling: the wonton destruction that unfolded on that field of battle in an attempt to break the Soviet bulge cannot be overstated. For the Germans, it was unmitigated tragedy. So by comparing Games for Slaves to this particular point in the offensive, Der TPK makes clear that album number two is more brooding and melancholy than Harmful Emotions.  Bunker Wolf's menacing lupine-schrei is as formidable as ever, but the band has moved from the blitzkreig, almost hardcore-like pace of their Siltbreeze debut to a more Mancunian post-punk sound (angular guitars, rhythmic dirges), crossed with the luftschutszbunker psychedelia of German Oak (especially on the organ-laden tracks). Edmund Xavier's spidery guitar fills recall similar stylings of a young Bernard Sumner, while the bass/drum propulsion of Boy True and Catholic Pat call to mind the underrated talents of Slight Seconds' Mike Shaw and Peter Hibbert. Getting back to Bunker Wolf, there is no one like him. Maybe if Peter Hind (Mittagspause-era) could still squeak while goose-stepping across the squat in a pair of leather trousers, then we might have some trouble. But that ain't likely. No one does it in 2008 like Teenage Panzerkorps. Games for Slaves is more beauteous gas on an already raging and...

Love Is So Fast, The

S/t

Siltbreeze

Exact details on the origins of The Love Is So Fast are vague; essentially, it was a project created by Danyhell and Estrella (currently in Los Llamarada) intended to flesh out bedroom improvisations and act as an inner search for a sense of skeletal (pop) structure amid the morass of postmodern rock effluvium. Performed live and recorded in one take, the five hazy, languorous tracks certainly charge the ions with positive, crystalline zip, creating an electron hole that sounds like alien transmissions from a long-ago Mars. Not the band, friend, the planet!  Fans of the debut LP by Los Llamarada (S-S Records) will be downright giddy with the Precambrian narco-menace that comes carbonating off The Love Is So Fast's archival recordings. Or, as the band says themselves: "This is the music we dreamed of but couldn't play." Grab the peyote, I think I'm Frida Kahlo.

Hank IV

Refuge In Genre

Siltbreeze

A decidedly meaner, sharper, and more pummeling affair than their critically acclaimed debut, Hank IV's second album, Refuge in Genre, sports eleven songs in 30 scorched-earth minutes. No visit to the lo-fi or "shit-gaze" Quonset huts this, Refuge in Genre was recorded in shattering hi-fidelity by Tim Green (The Fucking Champs) and mastered by Bob Weston (Shellac).  The rollicking San Francisco quintet has been in the crosshairs of the Siltbreeze hunting rifle since just after the release of their debut LP, Third Person Shooter (Hook or Crook, 2006). Attempts to release their Dirty Poncho 7-inch were squashed (the honor went to Plastic Idol) so Siltbreeze did what any jilted paramour would: decided to get even.  The sound of Hank IV is a bit too wily and scrambled to pigeonhole as any one type of honk. Forward thinkers might tag 'em as panic-skiffle, combining the cunning and menace of compadres such as Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments or Country Teasers, with a dual guitar attack that nods toward the Bailey / Kuepper-era Saints as much as those dudes looked at Smith / Kramer for their nascent moves. Through all this stutter and pummel, vocalist Bob McDonald (formerly of Denver hardcore icons Bum Kon) doesn't throw caution to the wind so much as atomize it. If a shattered leg can't keep this herc from heralding the apocalypse, do you think your tender widdle ears have a chance? Not likely, bub.  San Francisco quintet Hank IV has no relation whatsoever to the Hank Williams clan. Their hard-charging...

U.s. Girls

Introducing...

Siltbreeze

If the alluring moniker used by Megan Uremovich conjures images of volleyball teams or cheerleading squads, forget it. Not that there's any doubt that Uremovich--sorry, U.S. Girls--couldn't rise and conquer either challenge.   Like fellow DIY ingenues Sally Strobelight and Inca Ore, U.S. Girls' approach is deceptively ethereal and delightfully haunting; lithe, lysergic gamma rays of keyboard murk beamed over percussive bonk sort of resemble Diamanda Galas reinterpreting Suicide's Red Star. And dig that cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Prove It All Night," done in such an effortless, barbital lush you'd swear the air was filled with mescaline. Guess what? It's not.  "In her cover version of The Kinks melancholy anthem 'Days,' U.S. Girls sticks to Albert Einstein's wise maxim 'Make it as simple as possible, but not simpler.' The dirgey clatter of the drums brings to mind images of old steam machines advancing through vast fields where things grow slow and women sing folk songs which are eternal because they are sung from the heart and nothing else. U.S. Girls' voice does this, free from decoration, frills or pretense, mapping the country of the soul with a burning honesty strange in this reality, something we also find in the ballads of Acid Mothers Temple sorceress Cotton Casino." --20jazzfunkgreats.co.uk

Sic Alps

U.s. Ez

Siltbreeze

U.S. EZ is the fourth long-player in the Sic Alps canon (excluding the recent singles comp CD, A Long Way Around to a Shortcut), and their first for the Siltbreeze label. Fans of last year's amazing Description of the Harbor LP will not be disappointed, especially if they want to hear Side A's cosmic concrete creak, forged with the trebly, high-end neo-glam pop of Side B.   The duo of Mike Donovan and Matt Hartman outdo themselves here and it is the most fully realized Sic Alps release to date. U.S. EZ knows perfectly well what it means to be high and inside. It's not just baseball jargon anymore. If you've been jonesin' for an LP that calls to mind equal parts Bob Markley and Uli Trepte, then look no further, mein dueden (und duedetten). U.S. EZ is the virtual brick of Berlin / Big Sur hash we've all been waiting to break into. The ominous death's head fez has now been ensconced in a witchy naugahyde bonnet, thus levelling the playing field for both the psychedelically challenged and the itinerant avant garde.  Sic Alps have always sprechen zie good vibes and U.S. EZ is a solid thump on all fronts. A summer tour of the States and a European one in the fall are in the works.  "San Francisco's Sic Alps take a modern approach to the psychedelic sound, with reverb remaining a key ingredient, and effects a routine tool, but with a sound more organic...

Eat Skull

Sick To Death

Siltbreeze

Leave it to the English to embellish a term like "shit-gaze" and in doing so codify the current DIY threadbare scrape of Times New Viking, Psychedelic Horseshit, and Tyvek. No surprise that the greatest shit-gazer of all time was none other than Samuel Coleridge, an avowed Brit who, plied full of laudanum, would sit for hours and stare at his bowel movements, writing copious notes on their color, texture, etc. "Monday? Oh, stool journal, to where didst thine weekend go?" At any rate, it's hard to gauge how much mileage the Limeys can get with such a phrase, but cross your fingers it hangs around long enough for Eat Skull to share in the odorous mirth. Call their genre whatever you want; Eat Skull will be ensconced in the stately pleasure-dome at Xanadu, waiting for the checks to clear.  Biscuit crumbs and tea stains be damned, Eat Skull are a quartet hailing from Portland, Oregon, co-masterminded by Rob Enbom (former bushwacker in the ranks of Hospitals and Hole Class) and another original Hospital, Rod Meyer (the greatest living genius of punk). Previous Eat Skull efforts include a cassette-only EP and a pair of 7-inches, all of which might be out of print. Like their brethren and forebears, Eat Skull runs a post pattern deep beyond pop and punk. They bring to the game an extrasensory appreciation of New Zealand's South Island Sound (Great Unwashed, Axemen), Cleveland art-damage skronk (Modern Art Studio, X-X), and the wretched excess of forgotten Midwest...

Fabulous Diamonds

S/t

Siltbreeze

Adorably known to friends and family in Australia as Jarrod and Nisa, The Fabulous Diamonds' beguiling truck is a mesmerizing mix of synth, dub, and percussion, woven around honey-ache vocal stylings recalling (in spirit) past Aussie noisemakers Scattered Order or Makers Of The Dead Travel Fast, as well as those of Augustus Pablo, Young Marble Giants, and Suicide.  Their one previous release was a 7-inch co-released by Nervous Jerk and Misteltone, and it garnered praise from the Blogosphere and a smattering of airplay on discerning freeform radio stations around the US. This LP on Siltbreeze has been in the works for the better part of a year; its release coincides their first American tour (along with Siltbreeze labelmates, Psychedelic Horseshit).  "Borne out of a tradition that lies somewhere between classic dub, experimentalism and post punk, Fabulous Diamonds foreground a style (unique) and substance (intriguing) that come together in a hypnotic frenzy. Assembled amidst high levels of delay, this Melbourne two-piece creates a truly bewildering mix.... It's the hit you've been waiting for throughout this post post-punk melee we live in. Fabulous Diamonds present a world drenched in discordant jams stemming from a parallel universe of sonic intensity, one that picks up on the heritage embedded in post-punk, but recreates rather than rehashes the influence." --Eliza Sarlos, Mess + Noise

Naked On The Vague

Blood Pressure Sessions

Siltbreeze

Lucy Phelan and M.P. Hopkins hail from Sydney, Australia. Behind a basic framework of keyboard, bass, and vocals (and all manner of tinkered-with percussion) Naked on the Vague's distinct aggregate of sound calls to mind everything from SPK to Mars and beyond. Or, as they're fond of calling them in Philly, "the Death Star version of Times New Viking."  Originally released in 2007 on CD by the fearless Australian Dual Plover label, The Blood Pressure Sessions ventures into a darker realm than their debut 7-inch (also on Dual Plover) had erroneously suggested. Propelled by the sharp, rhythmic snare drum beat and anchored by thunderous, fuzzed bass-lines and stinging, swinging organ and synth fills, Phelan and Hopkins take turns rounding out the vocal duties, giving the whole of their sound a sonorous curtain of ecstatic foreboding. Betraying a gallows wit, the band refers to their music as "apocalyptic pop," which could be construed as both drowning and waving.  Coming from the label that brought the world both The Dead C and Shadow Ring, Naked On The Vague is a perfect fit in the Siltbreeze discography. Look for them at the upcoming SXSW and on tour throughout the US in the spring of 2008.

Oper’azione Nafta

Cavuru

Siltbreeze

Located within the Trapani Province of Sicily, Oper'azione Nafta considers their self-described "un-rock" as "a blowjob from Luigi Russolo." There's little doubt the great Futurist author of the The Art Of Noises manifesto would be anything but chuffed by such salacious bravado. Indeed, the trio pours on the racket and sounds like they were hatched in a custom-built Russolo intonarumori. Successfully putting the on back in bonkers, Oper'azione Nafta doles out only The Berserk, which might be why, at any given time, their unstoppable onslaught taps into rock/improv fizz a la Sun City Girls, Etron Fou Leloublan or the Butthole Surfers, various FMP blat, and MEV-like electronic scramble. When they claim "We are Oper'azione Nafta and we kill Bambi!" who among us would question it? Besides, a nice bowl of Sicilian-styled venison ragout would really hit the spot.  Released in a vinyl-only, one-time edition of 500, Cavuru is the band's debut release.

Alasehir

Philosophy Of Living Fire

Siltbreeze

Alasehir is the trio of Michael Gibbons, John Gibbons, and Jason Kourkounis, otherwise known as three-fifths of Bardo Pond. Their third release, following a CD apiece for the Important and aRCHIVE labels, Philosophy of Living Fire continues their sonic exploration of dense, languorous, free expansion. Billowing and exploding like a cluster of hashish stars, the three instrumental tracks produce a cosmic energy akin to a quasar in the heavens far left of Coltrane’s OM and just right of the galaxy known as Dead C’s Harsh ’70s Reality. Released in a one-time edition of 1000 LPs, this is the rocket ride into the outer stratum at which their previous CDs only hinted. So climb aboard and let Alasehir’s Philosophy Of Living Fire  be your 2007: A Space Odyssey.   A tour for later this year is being scheduled. Stay tuned to www.siltbreeze.com for further info.  “The secret here is the groove, it takes you in and it won’t let you go in all its head-nodding goodness. An essential slice of spiritual rock...”  —Boomkat

Psychedelic Horseshit

Magic Flowers Droned

Siltbreeze

Let’s spin the history dial back and wonder what if Hitler had inherited six million dollars instead of being responsible for the deaths of six million Jews? Think about it—no Anne Frank, Joseph Mengle, or Auschwitz; marzipan sales would be way up, cocaine legal, and vegetarians would have had an early advocate and mentor; the German Sheperd would be the national bird; watercoloring might even be a serious medium—the mind boggles. And as an ardent fan of classical music (not to mention the six mil burnin’ a hole in his pocket, Mein Gott!) you can bet Adolph would have been on board with Psychedelic Horseshit. The sounds on Magic Flowers Droned captures the rickety skeletal pop of Step Forward-era Fall, the lo-fi fuzz of Swell Maps, and static noblesse of Slay Tracks-era Pavement. Is that classical enough for ya? For sure, this full-length debut is no Parsifal, but to these guys, sometimes a spear is just a spear and The Holy Grail is a movie made by Monty Python. As for Wagner, four outta five housepainters will tell you theirs is a name you can trust. Now where’d I put that joint?  Considered by the Columbus cognoscenti as the “little brother band” (Stooges-style) to Times New Viking (MC5-style), Psychedelic Horseshit first came about as three buds determined to crash a hippie fest and jam retardo. When asked for their name, singer/guitarist Matt Whitehurst replied, “Just call us Psychedelic Horseshit.” The band killed, the name stuck, and thus the die...