Reviews by kuvien

The Ascension and the Assumption in one album? I mix those up in my Rosary, so I don't need an album adding to my confusion.

Music drowned in sunshine and decorated with field recordings of water, birds, insects, and playing children. Vocals content not just to sing delicate folkish songs but also eager to explore wordless singing on a backward carousel. What it sounds like to be forever on the verge of waking.

A damn fine folk punk album made by a piece of shit human being who realizes his world is a prison run by even bigger pieces of shit. Refreshingly misanthropic! I would've added this to my collection if it wasn't all so samey.

Side A is a pretty standard heavy psychedelic jam, but it’s Side B that interests me more. An ambient exploration of aural space is slowly filled by hungry guitars and unconventional, sparse percussion. It’s like building a fire with kindling and eventually the logs catch fire.

The first track beamed a signal straight into my brain and switched it on. Just the right pulse / frequency / resonance of keyboards. It's all thrusters, clearing the atmosphere kilometer after kilometer, so when the second track kicks in, you're weightless. Timeless, measureless floating. This album is by the numbers but does it so well.

You know those 3D collages that people hang on the walls and take videos of? They look cool, but then the photographer steps sideways and around the sculpture, revealing that it's just a bunch of random junk creating the illusion of the art, and thus the art becomes even more real and amazing? Yeah. That's this album.

As usual with releases like this, the goldmine is in the liner notes. Thank God for reissues! This music is only loosely jazz, for it draws on a wide range of influences beyond jazz, from the indigenous music in African traditions to Monteverdi, thus putting it more in the realm of an album where the musicians were told, "Hey, can you make a soundtrack for a film that doesn't exist yet?" And that's just what these expatriate black American musicians did. During those three or four magical years the Chicagoan and his American compatriots enjoyed Paris (and France enjoyed them!), these visionary musicians spread their wings and explored not only what it means to make music but what it means to be black.

The double dulcimers weave the magical musical tapestry before which the flutes and violins converse with one another, both in camaraderie and in consolation.

Not only traditional folk songs (Scottish reels / Irish refrains) beautifully arranged by the band but also Yeats poetry set to music. As far as I can tell, only one track--B4--is an original composition. Mostly this album is lively arrangements featuring a smattering of Celtic yelps and howls as well as the instruments one expects from acoustic folk: guitar, violin, mandolin, contrabass, Irish metal flute, and banjo. A fine contribution to the evolution of Celtic music.

At least two members of this band had the same harp teacher, and that teacher must have had a massive influence in their lives, because several of these songs are snatches of tunes or adaptations learned from her and incorporated into what became the tracks on this album. The themes explored run the typical folk gamut, from dreaming of going to sea to pining over lost love. Ar Log's music mourns as well as it jigs.

The traditional Welsh triple harp figures prominently into a folk music displayed here that is similar in so many ways to other Celtic folk but also significantly different. The magical heart of mystery in the ballads, odes, and dances draws me deeper into a tiny yet varied country caught between the mountains and the sea, a place so close yet so far away. Listen for the clarsach, flute, and fiddle.

This is really all over the place, manic in its erratic explorations. Often wavering, playful non-lyrical vocals garnish the complex, driving instrumentals. “Driving” is the key word here, because these songs have some place to be, and they’re racing toward their destination. Except when they don’t. The meandering is exquisite, as well. I don’t know what Area 5 is, but damn I wanna go there!

The opening spoken-word vocals sound like a plea or an invocation and then lead into some wacky, weird music. Some of the warbling in the vocals reminds me of Tim Buckley. Doorbell keyboards balance jazzy bass lines. It feels like the percussion wakes the vocalist, like a dreamer, at the end of the album.

If only the girl sang, this would be charming, but the ball-less, infantile dude ruins the vibe. Fuck off, ball-less one!

This is one of a small number of albums in my collection that tickles me pink because of its obscurity. I don't like an album simply because it's obscure, of course. I actually have to like the music. But when I find a band that made only one album before disbanding, I pay attention. In my experience, it's going to be either really good or really bad. This one falls in the former camp. I'm a huge zeuhl fan, first off. This album has a dark, haunting, rather chant-like beginning, almost as if it's an invocation of sorts before progressing into guitar territory more familiar to the casual ear. Still the cryptic nature of the music continues with unsettling synthesizer use. Whereas Magma is bolder as far as zeuhl is concerned, Archaïa strikes me as more sombre and definitely more disturbing, almost as if there's a touch of the Occult present.

Three things: (1) I want to hear more Regine. More Regine would've made this a better album. (2) You're middle age, Win. You're supposed to already "be there". (3) I'm getting tired of these anthemic fight songs for life, like people need inspiration just to walk out of their bedrooms, like it's some great, epic feat. Shadow-boxing, towel around their necks: "I can make it... I can make up my bed, if you just don't give up on me!"

I like this album. The music sounds great, but it honestly doesn’t live up to their earlier stuff, and for me, the reason is simple: persecution complex. Win needs to get over himself, the same way Zappa did: no one is persecuting you. No one thinks music is a sin. If there are such people, they’re fringe, and Win is just setting up a strawman. The best thing about you is your wife singing in French, which is, admittedly, to die for.

Since I discovered Moulettes before Aranis, I'm going to say Aranis is a chamber music version of Moulettes. Though I listened to this in a folk listening project, this one is definitely an outlier, wallowing more in its rock sensibilities than folk. But it's a damn fine addition anyway! Violins, flutes, accordions, and quasi-religious choral vocals doubling with the organ.

Violins, accordion, piano, guitar (surprised by this addition), flute, and double bass. In some ways this chamber music reminds me of what post-rock tries to do: create emotion in the form of music, evoking peaks of passion and exploring pensive, lonely phrasing, all in the same composition. Again, rather cinematic in feel.

This is basically rock in opposition meets chamber classical, and the result is dramatic violins and leaping flutes. The sparse vocals are a nice touch, lending the overall album an arthouse cinematic feel.