HAVE A HIT

The first PSF Tokyo Flashback compilation was my teenage introduction to the long and devote tradition of Japanese musical pyschedelia. Not sure, but it seems like at the time this was released it must have been a pretty exciting little pu pu platter of unearthed recordings obscure enough to make at least the western enthusiasts salivate. It was here that I got a formal penetrating of my virgin ears to the disturbing utterances of one Keiji Haino, both alone in a large room and with his longstanding ensemble 不失者 (Fushitsusha). What this little sampler does particularly well is present both the rocking, wanking (High-Rise, White Heaven) and the dark, mystical (Ghost, 不失者, 光束夜, 灰野敬二) sides of the early Japanese scene, as well as those that are the summation of both (Marble Sheep , Verzerk). As far as personal faves go I needn't go on about the importance of Haino or his veteran act (whose 1990 live session here will fuck you up), however I cannot speak highly enough of Verzerk or 光束夜 (Kousokuya). The former, although somewhat trad, deliver a crusher of fuzzy lead heavy psych bordering on metal which the internet claims to be their only work. This is perhaps explained by two of the members evidently pictured literally behind bars in the liners. Kousokuya on the other hand yield what seems to be a characteristically suffering and broken performance that gets at a drunken and deeply depressed emotional interior to pysch rock's posturing facade. Though, really, I love every track, its hard not to also give High-Rise honourable mention for their contribution (notable namesake to the illustrious Japanese outfit from my last post) and clearly being way too cool, and loud, to hear anyone who accuses them of a dated aesthetic. Through live and studio representations, this comp communicates superbly the religiosity with which long-haired Tokyo-ites have practiced their duly inherited craft for decades. Although we weren't there, and we missed the acid, we can still have the Flashback.



Back in '95

Mellow Out

"Now that's a HIT!"

 Brooklyn ZOO!



Just saw that I only had four posts for January and started feeling guilty. Well, what do these three disparately legendary recordings have in common? They are all OLD and DIRTY... and DIRTAY! Just as aesthetic similarities can be drawn from Eric's Trip and Ulver's 90s four-track masterpieces, Mainliner, GBV and ODB formed these seminal works through seemingly similar DIY approaches. While four-track tape portastudios are likely implicated in each of these records, it is a whole other common element to these artist's worlds that each manages to capture on disc: dirt. Grit, degradation, imperfection; the creative influence of the presence of such qualities in these musicians' artistic environs shape their output and are readily acknowledged and, in one way or another, transformed. For Mainliner, dirstortion, fuzz and minimalistic repetition are a direct route, through hynoptic sonic immersion, to obscure subconscious realms. GBV's Robert Pollard understands the importance of the spontaneous recording (and beer) to capturing great melodies and pop sensibility. For Dirty, existence in the world's underside is the longest and most intensive scholarly experience and yields knowledge that is tangible through its universal cultural applicablity. Get dirty.

  

Somebody gave the GOVERNMENT a FLAT TIRE

In honour of ANONYMOUS' mighty retaliation to Megaupload's shut down and time bought as well as minds changed for the SOPA/PIPA bill, I have decided to post a bite-sized Canadian new wave treat. The Government are a band with a small output and even smaller legacy, but who remain a sought after name in the world of obscure early art punk and new wave 7"s. This is, no doubt, a result of the unique sounds contained on this plastic cylinder from 1979. A perfect sonic polaroid of a highly anamolous moment in music and counter-culture. Quite unlike anything else to come out of Canada and it's punk scene at the time, these four numbers are some delightful little oddities set to a metric, chugging beat. My personal fave remains Flat Tire, which seems a fitting tribute to the impressive work of our fellow online-activist brethren and at least the temporary thwarting of the powers of evil and greed in recent days. Enjoy with beer and salted sarcasm.

Spongey

SOPA and PIPA want you to buy movies, not have a voice or the availability of uncensored information on the web, STOP THEM

People this is serious. I urge everyone who sees this post to stop whatever it is they are doing and spread the word as far as they can about this heinous crime against human rights. We all deserve to be heard, to educate ourselves and to lead a censorship-free internet life. Like they have been so many times before, grey-haired, out-of-touch, non-internet-using fogies are being given the power to restrict the world from information they have a right to. Don't be fooled by the shady bill shelving that's been happening, this thing is moving and it is moving fast. If you are American, go here to voice your objection to a representative. If you think someone like me deserves to be sued for what I do here, or you'd like to never see your comment posted again or you hate access to free obscure music that may never make it to your part of the world then sit on your ass and do nothing but the trivial internet activities of the everyday, they'll only be gone this January 21st, better make the best of 'em.
If not, you can take action through this petition from Avaaz, one of the more prominent and influential activism sites on the web. Fight it!

Canadian Metal Classics Pt. 4 - Winter Metal

It is that magical time of year when the thick, fluffy head of condensation spills from the heavens and covers my part of the world. It is a time of howling winds, hail that whips the earth like chains and engines stalling as their drivers accelerate into white death. It is the season where nature and technology alike go to die. What better mascot could it have than some spikey, spaghetti-mopped, webbed-mouthed, killing technology wielding stormtrooper???! And what better sound track than one of Canada's earliest contributions to international stereo grimness. Voivod are, to me, our Celtic Frost or Venom. From the get go, with this debut, they set about blurring the jagged lines of speed, thrash and heavy metal and punk. Owing about as much to Charged GBH or D.O.A. as Hellhammer or Slayer, Voivod were one of those fearless acts, like CF, who knew that one could crush just as easily at sludgey, slothful tempos as blazing fast ones. It is their similarly idiosyncratic style to the Frost's, which sacrifices no heaviness in maintaining a chilling atmosphere throughout, that set Voivod apart upon release of this criminally underacknowledged record and eventually gained them international appreciation. From the icey church bell hits that open the album to the ashen desolation of closer Nuclear War, War and Pain is a long, blackened trudge through Quebec winter replete with hulking snow drifts of doomy riffs and frigid frenzies of guitar violence at whirlwind tempos. Easily one of the most important records to the development of Thrash, Black and Death Metal as well as Crust Punk, this demands your worship. R.I.P. Piggy, forever.

Your Sky is Black Today

BEST 4 LAST BITCHES!

Evidently my 2011 ear was in crude enough shape to overlook one of Canada's most monolithic doom metal offerings of some time, right under my nose here in Montreal no less! Ensorcelor have been making waves in the city's small but mighty scene of true sonic sculptors of morbidly misanthropic magic. Their bearded, tree-wielding wizard-reared rituals caught my attention not more than a year ago at the unholy Death Church in St. Henri and they have remained ever-present in my mind as a colossal local live force worthy to dish it out along side numeroUS heavies (Thou, Yob, Krallice) to pass through this city's gates in recent times. It is the lumbering emotional juggernaut of their live performance, perhaps, that obscured my radar when hunting down great Canadian metal releases this past anno. I have seen the error of my ways. I could not see the dark woods for the light of the true path had blinded me. Having properly installed this blackened volume at my cylindrical altar my heart now rests as it should: in mother nature's darkness. What has struck me most immediately here is the band's ability to invoke such unholy hordes to my mind Thergothon, Skepticism, Mournful Congregation and the Woodsmoke crowd while remaining entirely unique and original, retaining only a few hints of such influences. On top of all this, the record very eloquently evades the all too common sludgisms of much modern funeral doom. The true strength of this unit is their ability to capture the earthiness of doom metal lore and the seasonal moodiness this music exudes. For those south of our snowy expanses, this is the most direct audio tap into the feeling of long trudges through white abyss; of waking up to days on end of dimmed sunlight consumed willingly by early nightfall. This album represents perfectly the musical equivalent of the black cloud that can envelope one's thoughts under a winter's moon...

and if at the bottom of everything there were only a wild ferment...

Raise Your Glass