Reviews by kuvien

You know what goes well with this? The steady hum and grind of a chainsaw right outside your house.

A group of cowled priests stand in the shadowy cavern and chant in a solemn call-and-response with their sleeping, growling machine god. After the ceremony, alarms go off, alerting the worshipers that the god is waking, and a piano player has to lull it back to sleep.

Seeger has such a gift for interpretation, not bringing anything outré to her renditions but relying simply on her voice and banjo. Simplicity and confidence.

One of the greatest names in folk revival and one of my favorites, Seeger's interpretations of extant folk in the transatlantic cultural traditions between the United States and the British Isles are some of the best I've ever heard. She impresses with her instrumental accompaniment, of course, but can hold the listener's attention even with her a cappella. Though American, Seeger was deeply involved in the Second British Folk Revival, right there alongside Ewan MacColl. This album is an excellent example of her solo prowess, and no folkhead should go without.

Who would've known that lazy men tried to trap and rely on gullible women even back in old times? That's just a taste of the saucy Child Ballad renditions on this short gem of an album. This music is the very blueprint of the folk revival.

The bravery of old-school women never ceases to amaze me. Spitfires not lying down to take a beating from their no-good husbands, but also true lovers willing to disguise themselves as men so they can go to war with their beloveds. Some albums contain entire worlds within their few short minutes, and this, with a helping of Child Ballads, is one such document.

Not sure if it has anything to do with the music itself, but it was a husband-wife duo who formed the band. Of course the lyrics aren't in English, but the vocal qualities of the lead male and female are quite strikingly different, the former being quite full and mellow, the latter being shrill with a conspicuous lack of vibrato, perhaps in an intentional avant way. I prefer her vocals, as they're a bit freakier. A fiery gypsy feel to the music that could be a bit more fiery, in my opinion. Good, though!

The kind of music you listen to while you're flatlining, reassuring you that your life was meaningless, and so is your death.

Why are they called Scissor Sisters?

What interests me most about this album is how it is now seen as the electronic equivalent of something known as raga, an Indian musical framework driven by an overarching melody that allows for improvisation. This is the album I sit back, close my eyes, and listen to and forget what time it is or how much time is passing. It’s quite a liberating piece of music.

Though not as engaging or transportive as Timewind, this album has one surprising moment: on the second half of Side B, a progressive rock sounds kicks in, a turn quite unexpected but not uninvited.

This album is the audio diary of a long, slow, beautiful death. The thing dying is beautiful, so the process of death is beautiful, too. This music covers everything in frost.

This album is one of vague impressions for me, which is, I think, not what the album is trying to avoid. First come the distant symphonic violins playing intermittently over a steady drone of static. The rhythmic snoring of the old man sitting across from me on the train fit perfectly here, and for a few bars, I thought it was indeed part of the music. All of this then gives way to an electronic Gothic organ feel.

Well, this is an unsung goodie! Sure, it’s Krautrock, but there’s a lot going on underneath the surface—or rather above the surface, for that is just what this album does. It opens with water and ends that way, too, as if the music rose from the deep before submerging again. There’s a mild electronic element throughout, especially in the repetitive, hypnotic longer tracks. Also the field recordings scattered here and there work well with the breathing and vocal experimentation going on.

The album opens with trippy soundscapes and eerie spoken word reverbs. The psychedelic atmosphere only deepens as the music progresses, expanding to more ambient dimensions with the use of repetitive, echoing vocals and the striking of the guitar. Eventually, like many ambient tapestries, this one goes underwater after a while, despite it being called "Wald".

I often listen to music on my Bluetooth earphones, and sometimes the music will intermittently cut out because of signal disruption. This happens most often when cycling--the music device just happens to be on the other side of my body from the earpiece that is picking up the signal. This guy, however, disrupts his own signal intentionally, thereby achieving by design what which most annoys me about Bluetooth.

This album is her butt-plug: how many more cliches can she cram up her ass?

I'm a way bigger fan of the Mahavishnu than Santana. This is the only Santana album I own, and it's because of John McLaughlin, who helps provide an excellent pseudo-answer to Coltrane's. It brings again to mind my fascination with the association between (some might say 'conflation') music and religion. As St. Augustine said, "He who sings prays twice."

This makes me think of what early DakhaBrakha might sound like if they cut out the strings. A lot of overlapping, multi-part, harmonious chanting--all very tight--that slowly works in percussive elements until a crescendo is reached. Just so you know going into this one: not only do all six members of this band sing, they all clap hands, too. A very important detail.

Zither, kantele, duduk: under UK direction, Finland and Armenia meet in this folk blending. Simple female vocals sing the runes beautifully over mysterious music that both delves and soars.