Burnt Hills - Tonite We Ride [Flipped Out]

Here is the latest full hour of power from the Burnt Hills clan. Quick recap on Burnt Hills: an amorphous unit out in Albany, NY who’s membership ranges anywhere from 4-11 people (usually landing on the larger end of the scale) and is responsible for destroying everything in its path on numerous occasions.
Tonite We Ride is about the most badass, fitting title that anyone could give this CD. The line-up on this recording features drums, bass, xylophone and four guitars and altogether sounds pretty monstrous. As alluded to earlier, “Tonite We Ride” is a single, hour long unedited jam. The record eases to a start keeping things relatively loose but maintaining/creating a focus. The rhythmic section holds things together nicely; the drummer knows when to mix things up and when to strictly lay down the beat. Eric Hardiman (also known for his work in Century Plants and as Rambutan) offers some righteously gnarly and hypnotic bass lines while the guitar quartet acts like a unified hovering mass of fuzz. This is the thing that always boggles my mind about Burnt Hills, there are a lot of people playing here and it sounds like a lot of people playing but at the same time it sounds like there’s only a few people playing. Catch my drift? Probably not, I’ll try to phrase it more coherently. Here, these 7 folks play with the same focus/unity that a good trio has. Even with all the frayed wires here there is always a consistency to the jam. It’s interesting too because occasionally the Hills will drop into some long lost rock song where things aren’t even psychedelic anymore just catchy. I really like things around the 18 minute mark, everyone begins to freak out a bit with some nice free drumming and I can even hear Sick Llana hammering the xylophone amidst the feedback. There’s a yelp in the left speaker and everything slows to a devastating lope. After the flayed freak out, an almost militant blues rock riff is introduced and deconstructed. There’s some guitar in here with a vocal-like quality to it, I don’t know if it’s just some precision wah wah playing or what but it sounds choral and awesome. Maybe it’s actually vocals for all I know, but I don’t see it in the liner notes. This is probably the best sounding Burnt Hills release I’ve heard yet; aside from the xylophone getting buried a lot of the time, everything sounds pretty clear so you can hear the nuances of all the players. Probably the next best thing to being in the room during one of their jams. After a sonic pile-up and an extended comeback, everyone reconvenes with a chugging riff which they ride momentarily before whipping up more shitstorms of feedback. I have to complement the drumming once more, cause not only does this guy play the drums like a bastard for an hour straight, the dude is constantly spitting out new rhythms—my favorite one being a nice little rave up about 3/4s through the jam. Getting to the 50 minute marks, the sounds get stretched out and, I’d say, spacey if they weren’t so fiery and immediate. That gives me a good idea for a metaphor. Burnt Hills are the sun. Somehow all the feedback radiation and sonic mass ejections balance each other out, finding a collective stability in aggressive, unstable processes.
This is a pro-pressed CD with sweet, minimal artwork by Bill Nace, which makes me think, when are Nace and the BH gang gonna team up. I have name for it already, Bill Nace and the Burnt Hills Orchestra. Sounds classy, right? Get on it Northeasterners. Still available from Burnt Hills member Jackson Ziamaluch’s Flipped Out label, and worth snapping up if you’re down with the Burnt Hills manner. If yr unfamiliar, this is a great place to start too.

Burnt Hills – Cloud Nine [Tape Drift]

So here’s the deal, Burnt Hills is a collective hailing from upstate New York who get together each week to jam out 100% improvised madness and host/play shows in a basement. On this recording, there are nine people—though apparently it ranges from four to fourteen—four of which spend time behind a drum kit, seven who spend time wailing on axes of destruction and Mike K., the lone bass slinger. (I realize that doesn’t add up to nine and sort of defies natural law, but, you see, that’s just what these guys do!) This a line-up so tremendously loony, so perversely awesome, so crushingly splendiferous, it makes be wonder why it took the human race so long to devise it. Thank the heavens that the brave souls that pilot the S.S. Burnt Hills push the record button every once in a while, so those outside the one mile blast radius can still hear the ruckus, even if it’s only in our headphones.
Anyhow, this record is called Cloud Nine, out on the recently formed Tape Drift label. The first of seven untitled tracks (from what I can tell, this is all one long piece divided up seven ways) opens with a few seconds of aimless jamming kinda like playing three Lambsbread records at the same time, but then, unlike most Lambsbread stuff, the jam starts going somewhere and it’s all the more awesome for it. This thing seriously sounds like a train. It is like a bunch of people got together and listened to a field recording of a train and covered it with instruments. It’s relentless, heaving, rumbling from afar and if you pay attention there is lots of buzzing and feedback and shred-offs. There is a real depth to the recording, which is probably because there are nine fucking people playing guitar!
The dudes playing drums must be American Gladiators cause they just keep on rollin’, keeping the band in a perpetual state of motion without taking so much as a breather. In my experience I’ve found that drumming can make or break a noise rock record, and here with four people playing, stakes is high. The drummers play really well with each other, all locking into the collective groove and don’t try to do too much or show off. They ain’t no robots though, they change up patterns often enough, throwing in little tom tom flourishes or cymbal work. The third track is an excellent example of the wicked drumming—as is the final, drums only track. The guitar drops back a bit, sustaining some and allowing the percussion folks to do their thing.
The next couple tracks see the guitarists getting a little more wild and unhinged (and even Mike K. slams a riff in there) and the drummers holding down the polyrhythmic fort. It is really easy to get lost in this recording and that’s without it being hazy or dreamy in the slightest. First, you get baptized in the cacophony and then zone out to the groove.
Burnt Hills navigate noise rock wreckage with ease and, more importantly, a beat. It’s hard to believe with as many people jammin’ as there are, that the whole thing stays coherent and in tune. There is definitely something special being brewed down in that basement of theirs. I do wish the guitars were a bit louder in the mix but that’s a small grumble.
So that rounds out the first three Tape Drift cd-rs. What I liked is that each release is pretty different and neat in its own little way. Like Century Plants and (VxPxC), Burnt Hills has a bunch of releases lined up, including ones on overseas heavy hitters QBICO, Ruralfaune and Ruby Red. So pick up Cloud Nine and warn Europe, cause Burnt Hills will probably leave it more ravaged than World War Two.