All The More Hardcore

In hope that he will see this tribute before he departs into the woods for the next several months, I am posting the latest Nick Persons album now. I apologize for interrupting my occult Italian trilogy but one must Goethe with the floweth. With the terminal defunctness of his group Fucked Butter, rap antagonist Nick Persons has had to keep busy creating his own brand of fucked hop. 2012 has so far seen the release of his primarily instrumental debut 66 Cents and more recently his return to the mic in Depart. Produced largely in bed in the wee hours of dusks and dawns, Depart captures the various altered states which occupy the mind at such times. "My House In Compton Is Off Limits" sounds like Prince on crack at 5AM after a wild house party in the 80s that Foreigner showed up to with some bad blow that gave everyone bloody nostrils. A hit to be sure. "Popular Kids" coins the proverb "we all know how to party, just clap" and makes one believe they do so much so that they will. "Yellow Drink" sounds like a stoned and tense philosophical conversation between Nick himself and Pizza the Hutt. "All the Hardcore" closes off the strange trip with the only sample Dilla was not lucky enough to pick up. All in all, Depart is an incredibly strong effort from a frighteningly deranged mind and deserves to be lauded as the truly innovative take on the hip hop idiom it is. Word up Persons.

Agony Ecstasy Discipline Harmony    

Riot

The best burnout of the 20th century would have to come from the '60s wouldn't it? And it would of course have to come from Sly Stone, the number of drugs he used in the recording and production of this album likely being close to the amount of overdubs. This hazy trip into the socio-political mind of America's foremost popular Soul/R&B/Funk group at the time cast an inescapable shadow over the futures of hip-hop and electronic music movements alike. Tape hiss and a mix determined more by mechanical degradations than human ears convey the claustrophobic nature of Sly's creative process as well as his drug-induced paranoia perfectly. Here and there darkly tinged proto-electro-soul pop non sequitors emerge ("Runnin' Away"), freeing the listener enough to breath deep before revisiting one of the Family's anthems through Stone's murky disillusionment ("Thank You For Talking To Me Africa"). This is still avant and lo-fi by today's standards, let alone seethingly cynical and funky.

Africa is talking to you

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

Curtain Call 2011

Well it might have taken us 30 years but Canada has issued its response to Intermittent Signals. But, in true blue canuck (add to dictionary) fashion Dog Day has woven twelve wintry tunes into a hockey sweater of sonic cozy. Dreams, woods, winter, Woofy, friends, travel, these are the make up of Dog Day's lyrical world and inform the sounds they capture within the comfort of their Nova Scotia country home. The album entrances the listener with its auditory warmth only to lead them down a bread crumb trail into the trees, at night, away from the streetlights and loud bars, the band's other life. As well as one can hear in Toody and Fred's rAT$ performances the frantic energy of city nightlife, Dog Day's hominess and intimacy are conveyed with amazing clarity through their compellingly insular songs. Listen to this at night 

in the woods    

Frank Ocean appears to be dubbing over and completely rewriting the faces of the mix tape. Using the format in the truest digital sense (free online download replete with uncleared samples) to release his latest album, the work is thoroughly influenced by the medium. Each track works to create its own detailed static image of a moment spent in reflection, not unlike Stetson's compositions on Judges. True to its title, Nostalgia quells its material from Frank's vivid remembrances, painted with outstanding melodies on a backdrop of pop tableau. From Novocane's euphorically subtle bass crescendos to American Wedding's thorough deconstruction of the atmosphere of a cultural anthem to Swim Good's existential desperation, Ocean takes the listener on a trip through a vibrantly experiential past. Forget Jay-Z and Kanye's Redding abomination, its Frank that will "give you chills harmonizing to Otis." 

We all try

Here's just what your NYE soundtrack needs. Hurry Up was probably 2011's biggest pay off. Extensively assimilating traits of the various styles throughout the band's more than a decade of constant evolution, this album delivers the perfected M83 recipe for hooky french synth pop with a potent 80s flavouring. One can hear echoes of the songwriting of the last three albums, but with all fat trimmed and catchy choruses abundant. The album delves at times into the ambient leanings of the group, branching out in composition out while maintaining and developing its unique textural environment. As far as I am concerned, Anthony Gonzalez has gone ahead and secured himself the throne of the prince of french dance pop.

The city is my church

This is so easily the boldest record of the year it sort of had to make number one on my list. Anyone who hates this already hated both the artists involved by this point, because it is the perfect synthesis of their respective styles. Whoever said this was Berlin meets Master of Puppets was dead on. No, it is not "accessible", I don't really understand why that is what people who would call themselves Lou Reed or Metallica fans would want. For 50 years Reed has been setting his unnerving poetry to conventional pop and rock as well as avant garde musical forms, it seems natural that he would tackle one of the monoliths of 20th Century metal to channel musically the horror of his images, and they do amazingly well. Its not the music here everyone hates, its the fearful awesomeness of this collaboration that they're not ready to handle. This record is too real for 2011, maybe people will get it in 2012, or 2112 and then it will be retrospectively lauded like a Metal Machine Music.

Happy New Years

For the Love of the People

It brings me so much joy that the bulk of musical releases of 2011 that excited and delighted me were from wonderful musicians who I am lucky enough to call good friends. One of the more recent of these is the illustrious Thomas Gill, whom I met this time last year and whose performances left me awestruck and continue to to this day. Thom inevitably evokes comparisons to Prince and perhaps Sufjan's recent work for his incredible guitar work and angelic falsetto atop minimalist, programmed funk grooves. While these perhaps the most accurate pop cultural reference point it is almost more apt to capture the sense of a beautiful individual who escapes most generic categorization. Working thoroughly in the slow jam tradition, Thom's compositions are seductively spiritual, often sprawling and lyrically laden with deeply reflective, existentially esoteric christian lyrics. While not religious, Thomas' music finds the religiosity of day-to-day life and often applies evocative christian symbolism in a truly insightful way. This year saw the release of no less than four amazing records for Thom, three under the Thomas moniker and one with the recently formed OG Melody, a duo straight out the hood feat. Isla Craig.

Breath - The first material I saw performed by Thomas on laptop and vocals. Post-smooth, soft-edged electro-soul. The perfect music to put on for the first time you take that special someone you've been courting home. Light some candles, make a prayer to love and let your heart guide you.

 Such is Your Triumph - Introspective hymnals of wintry reflection. Recorded in Montreal at the Redpath Chapel with some of the city's hottest young jazzists, this a more acoustic exploration of a sacred physical and spiritual space. Candid, soulful confessions to the father that is thyself and the light that shines within us all.

Janela - Epic cosmic spirituals in a more Arkestral vein. This weaves Thomas' ethereal electronics into a jazz/fusion/neo-soul chamber ensemble context. Like Triumph above, this is excellent listening for the season and would make a blessed present to a loved one.

A fun and deep exploration of 90s R&B textures. Closer in aesthetic to Breath, this might be what Destiny's Child or TLC would've sounded like if they came from the Oakwood area of Toronto and liked ambient music. On this one Thomas and Isla get back to the teachings of the street and the profound morals that lie therein. That, love and kickin' it.

They are all available here, here and here