ROCKTOBER 2025

Donna Allen - 2nd Song Diary: Atom-ic Citizen of the Dying Empire [Ever/Never] 

Don’t know if you’ve also been a fan of Chronophage for the past seven years or so, but, if not, they’re well worth checking out. (I’ve written about them some HERE). In that span, Chronophage has shifted from SST-ish outsider punk to something else I’ve seen described as peace punk. I’ve never been enamored with punk sub-sub-sub-genre hairsplitting and, contrarily, subscribe to the notion of “punk” being an extensive, infinitely inclusive descriptor of attitude and approach to making music—dating from the present to at least as far back as The Sonics (if not farther). This is a discursive effort to explain that I have no idea what “peace punk” is and have no idea whether Chronophage is or is not it. What I do surmise, having heard 2nd Song Diary: Atom-ic Citizen of the Dying Empire, the second solo release by Chronophage’s Donna Allen, is that Allen was probably a proponent of the band’s shift toward the gentle and more approachable. I mean, there is mandolin on this record, which is only punk in the sense that it’s the least punk instrument you could put on a punk record. 

The hectic cover artwork belies the altogether pleasant sonic footprint of the record. Emblazoned with “Free Palestine!!”, Atom-ic Citizen is not so much ardently political but ardently human, without a snarl in earshot. I’m not the guy you want dissecting and deconstructing lyrics, but Allen’s songs are rife with longing, wonder and curiosity, richly rendered through religious language on nearly every track (and with the admirable bravery to include allusions to fast food chains right alongside it)—illustrating that the personal and the celestial are one and the same.

The aural palette often consists of acoustic guitar, new agey polysynth, occasional pedal steel (always welcome on my stereo!) and in lieu of d-beat you’re more likely to hear one of those wooden frogs you scrape with a stick, peaceful sure... (Though I must note that the lovely synth instrumental “Embrace of the Embassy” features martial snare drum rolls.) Atom-ic Citizen was cleanly recorded by Sasha Stroud; it sounds very “nice”. “Nice” sounding production is admittedly a stumbling block for me at times (give me ragged and tattered any day) but the record’s sincerity is its greatest strength and the virtuous production is the right choice for Allen’s songs.

The album reaches its highest point early on in “Candle-Watching”. The melodic hook (guitar sublimely doubled by a female voice) is properly gorgeous and its brevity leaves you yearning to—please, please, please—just bask in its presence for a few seconds longer. Brevity is a tool Allen uses to great effect throughout. Of the 12 tracks on Atom-ic Citizen, only two reach the three-minute mark (and one hits three minutes exactly on the dot); many songs hover around or below two minutes.

Among other highlights are the grounded buoyancy of “Telescope Heart”, the country-tinged opener “Tip of an Angel’s Wing” replete with glistening pedal steel courtesy of Ed Allen, and the restless, stirring “Spirits in Flight”. The casual fingerpicked folkiness “Of Our Very Own” reminds me of Allen’s first song diary, which I very much enjoyed. (Still in print, nab one!) Though, Allen can jaunt with the best of them, whether the ambling sort (“Naked, Biological, Free”) or with propulsive rigor (“Nightmare of Dawning”). The album ends on a comparatively blah note with the hazy, cluttered instrumental “Flowers Blossom in the Heat of the Moment” but it's no great splotch on the pristine fabric of Atom-ic Citizen of the Dying Empire. 

Eyes and Flys - All the Tigers in Texas [Record Beach] 

All in all, Eyes & Flys head insect Pat Shanahan self-released eight(!) 7”s and one LP between 2019 and 2023. (Yeah, you are correctly remembering there was a global pandemic for a little while there too.) And, well, with a resume like that Shanahan was bound to get hired by some enterprising label out there. He was hired, sure enough. By himself! And he's the best man for the job, at that. That’s right, now Shanahan’s efforts making calls to pressing plants, waiting in line at the Post Office and paying invoices on-time will now be rewarded with the prestige of saying “I run a record label.” The name of that label is Record Beach. I guess moving from the frozen tundra of Buffalo, NY for the sunny docks of Long Beach a few years ago has given ol’ Pat a new lease on life letting him daydream of a paradise where beaches come fully stocked with records. Certainly the kind of beach that I’d want to hang at. 

But how hard is it to transition from DIY maven to Los Angeles (County) record executive? I may never know but Shanahan makes it look easy. When you ascend to upper management they say: delegate, delegate, delegate and Shanahan was paying attention in those seminars, having delegated vocal duties in Eyes & Flys to Dominic Armao (Sweet Harm, Anxiety Spree). It’s a surprisingly seamless transition. Shanahan’s tough, burly shout (he could probably unwittingly cuddle a kitten to death with his muscles) gave the Eyes an identity, but with Armao in front of the mic, the band retains a lot of that same appeal with a little more swagger. Jumping from the speakers like a sly “Ballroom Blitz” re-write, “All the Tigers in Texas” finds Armao letting loose with his swift sneer preventing things from getting too power-pop in the basement, except the dude tinkling on the glockenspiel at the end who missed the memo. “Seabird” fills out the B-side and it slips into my favorite Eyes & Flys mode, that is homespun fuzz-folk. Vocals retain their brawny heft which makes for a lovely juxtaposition with their soft surroundings. Semi-jangling acoustic guitar tries to stay afloat in a sea of trickling static. Rather than using a drum kit to lead the dynamic shifts, blistering overdubbed electric guitar leads the charge to great effect. Reminds me a bit of Chris Heazlewood or when Grifters went full four-track mode (see: “Dead Already”). One of the best E+F tunes yet! 

Rider/Horse - Matted [Ever/Never] 

The first two Rider/Horse LPs were sick slabs of 2020s noise rock and the duo-now-quartet shows no sign of slowing down on their latest LP Matted. Despite the lineup additions (full time bass player and a previously featured-turned-full time pedal steel player, sweet!) there is no radical shift to the Rider/Horse sound. Thick, thumping, Big Black-but-with-a-real-drummer grooves, alienated, needling vocals, and even the opening song is about horses (“Combing the Horse”) just like the first record! If anything maybe they’ve mellowed? I noted that their second record, Feed ‘Em Salt, moved away from treble frequencies and general spikiness (the guitars didn’t feel like sandpaper rubbing against my cheeks anymore!) and doubled down on human-mechanical grooves. The trend continues.

While not particularly cordial in any way, the band doesn’t sound like it might open up your chest with a switchblade anymore. See “Run the Rabbit”, 100% content to just cruise on a killer melody. Maybe it’s the fact that I just typed c-r-u-i-s-e but Girls Against Boys comes to mind (Cruise Yourself naturally). By no means a one-to-one match, but the vaguely threatening aura, the theoretical funk with all blood drained and replaced with motor oil, the background in head-busting noise and hardcore. Maybe all this time Rider/Horse has been the 21st century Girls Against Boys (that doesn’t actually sound like Girls Against Boys), no wonder why I dig ‘em!

Sometimes another instrument takes the lead (guitar provides a potent melodic counterpoint on “Bored by the Infinite” and “Headache Powder” throbs like an overtaxed heart thanks to a relentless distort-o-bass riff) but Matted is about drums first and foremost. The drums often seem to thud and thwack louder than anything else in the mix (see: “Empty Boxes” or any number of other examples). “Overdressed” is ruthless in its groove, so ruthless that it’s immediately followed by one of a scant few stretches without a groove battering down upon you. That might seem like relief initially but it’s not like “Toen (Restored to Glory by the Light)” is a respite; the track ultimately results with the biggest steamrolling you’re apt to receive over the whole album. “Comb the Horse” is sensational. The bass drops this kind of de-choogled choogle, staccato and robotic, the groove’s ghost lurking somewhere within. The new bassist Jared Ashdown is the secret MVP of the album, whether driving a track or gluing it together, he always seems to be doing exactly the right thing at exactly the right time. Matted’s biggest departure is finale “Small Animals” which makes fine use of that pedal steel to cast an unnerving pall across the drumless space. Don’t put it past Rider/Horse to find a new way to make you feel uneasy just as you’re finding your footing. 

Saint Black - Brown Velvet [Semi-Permanent] 

The extent of my Saint Black knowledge is the last couple releases (as reviewed in these pages), are there more than these two releases? Has Saint Black been releasing music for two-plus decades? A simple web search would (probably) answer this question, but I prefer to live in mystery, and I have a feeling the Saint does as well. Some artists are out there “trying to be understood” but Saint Black just seems to be going about his business whether anyone’s paying attention or not. For my money, that’s how artists ought to be living their lives. Communication is overrated!

A couple tracks really lean into Black’s Calvin Johnson doppelganger presence on the mic: “Two Play” is one of my favorite Saint Black tracks to date and the Calvin thing sticks out even more on “Peculiar Dream Logic”. It sounds like Saint Black was listening to the first Halo Benders LP (an AuxOut favorite) on repeat before laying that one down. Plus, Saint Black manages to give even less of a fuck than Calvin. Bravo!

Elsewhere, you get grunge-metal recorded in a shoebox (“Brown Laughter”), unplugged monotone ditties (“Swim Eagle Swim”), a lullaby so drunk it can barely stand (“Father Goose”), not to mention “Cam Jazz” which is actually melodically plucked acoustic guitar. Unquestionably, the most pleasant moment of any Saint Black recording. “O Word” is another great tune. Acoustic guitar, drum samples, an electric guitar lazily feeding back, and Saint Black putting more effort into actually singing since I can remember.

Don’t catch yourself thinking that Saint Black has gone soft though. While “Bi Tiyjr” may not actually be the Scandinavian black metal muck the title might conjure, it is a recording of Saint Black watching childbirth on Youtube while semi-absentmindedly singing a tune. He actually pauses for a bit to watch the video before resuming playing his song. It’s almost like he's in the process of writing the song… hey, wait a second! Is this some Graham Lambkin-y concept recording, ya know, “the birth of a song” or whatever? “Peculiar Dream Logic”, which is naturally a different song from the other song on the album called “Peculiar Dream Logic”, ends on repeated refrain of “It’s a waste of time”. Music is the greatest waste of time we’ve been given, and the mysterious Saint Black knows that better than most…

The Sheaves - Excess Death Cult Time [Moone/Minimum Table Stacks] 

At the end of 2023, I wrote about some of my favorite bargain bin finds of the year. One record I wrote about was Love It to Death and I mentioned that Phoenix, AZ wasn’t ready for the sounds of Alice Cooper which lead to their white flight into the open, blue-collar arms and ears of Detroit. Well, I hope things have changed in the desert over the past 50 years because if The Coops couldn’t make it in Phoenix, these poor Sheaves don’t stand a chance.

The Sheaves do their part, continuing the DIY lineage that we must never allow to die, following in the footsteps of contemporary era practitioners like The Pheromoans and The Shifters (without The Shifters’ cunning pop sense) and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re buddy-buddy with Famous Mammals either. Sung (in the theoretical sense of the word) with a raspy, requisite “British-ish” accent, The Sheaves Sound is about as authentic as can be made by 21st century historical interpreters. (You’re only truly authentic if you recorded your single in 1980 Scunthorpe or Stoke-on-Trent anyway. I don’t make the rules.)

Like any underground rock lobber worth its salt, The Sheaves press the word “puritan” into servitude. Oddly enough, “Puritans Ignore Them” (and “Mid-English Perversion”) remind me more of the drifting ballads of early Dead C than the UK’s puritanically-preoccupied usual suspects. Elsewhere, “Saturation Induction” features clear Pink Flag bloodlines and “Good Health” indulges in an inappropriate keyboard solo which seems like something Reptile Ranch might’ve done if they walked a kilometer in Sheaves shoes. So rest assured, those UK-import smelling salts were well used. 

“Program Fantasy” sounds like The Sheaves decided to write a song and changed their mind mid-way through, and that should tell you all you need to know. At the end of “Lariat Slung”, singer Eric Mudd’s voice is played backward and you realize it doesn’t actually sound any different than his normally sloshed cadence. As evidence of their canny commercial-mindedness, they save their catchiest number ‘til the last moment with the appropriately titled “Hit Silly”. I get the sense that the bass player showed up to band practice raving about a great new band called Bauhaus, and all The Sheaves collectively cried “let’s try sounding like that!” It worked.

In a win for consumers everywhere, Excess Death Cult Time was later released on vinyl by the intrepid Minimal Table Stacks in addition to the cassette by Phoenix’s own Moone Records in 2022. Choose your own analog adventure! 

Linda Smith - Till Another Time [Slumberland] 

Continuing AuxOut’s occasional mission (okay, digression) to highlight great 90s Slumberland singles that are still in print (see: Beatnik Filmstars), Till Another Time is a three-songer from hometaper Linda Smith. Smith has been in operation since the 80s releasing her music on the likes of Shrimper, Slumberland (obviously) and her own Preference Recordings imprint. In the past several years, Captured Tracks has taken up the mantle reissuing some of her music. I’m no Linda Smith scholar (although that would be a pretty cool thing to be) but I do enjoy this little record.

Recorded in 1993, listening some 22 years later, Smith still easily laps the many modern-day bedroom pop practitioners that have come in her stead. The A-side titled “Till Another Time” is lonely, soothing, and draws blood all at the same time. Some kind of mechanical buzzsaw dream pop overdose, a glimpse of heaven via alternating current. A stunner!

The second side offers two more tracks. “I Just Had To” draws on NZ-esque charm pop with ghostly vocals that would have convinced the 4AD school admissions board to grant Smith entrance with full scholarship. Such loveliness rattling away upon the cheapest drum machine money can buy (if any money was exchanged at all for the junker). "I Just Had To" is my least favorite track and it's still undeniably great! The finale “In This” is an absolute delight. Some kind of Marine Girls joining forces with Dolly Mixture fantasy taking place in the mind of a genius. The earworm guitar lick hooks me every time and then Smith tortures me with a long detour in the middle of the song making me wait ‘til the end to hear it again. Yet I keep coming back for more. There is no earthly reason not to own this. CLASSIC. 

Somerset Meadows - Recycle Your Dreams [Brain Genius] 

Normally when bands opt for a half studio/half live situation, I think it’s a bad idea. I don’t often get hyped about live albums and generally ignore the live half of the record (see: (Untitled) by The Byrds) and petulantly whine about them not putting their energy into another studio effort. Well, Portland quartet Somerset Meadows have gone where no band has gone before: they’ve put out a half studio/half live record where I actually much prefer the live side. Recycle Your Dreams (great title) is pressed on White Powerade-colored vinyl (special Arctic Shatter limited edition?) with Somerset Meadows symmetrically slapping on six songs per side, all but inviting a duel between the recording environments.

The studio side was recorded on “an exploding 8-track tape machine” which implies a much more dangerous or fucked up sounding recording. Without this note, however, the somewhat staid sound of the recording would’ve led me to believe that the tape machine was in perfect working order! It sounds fine and has its moments (the shredding guitar solo of “Just Another Lifetime”, the almost hypnotic rhythm of “Wide Open”, the uptempo pep-in-the-step of “The Waterfall”) but the band instantly gets a shot in the arm when you flip the record over to the live side. “Roll Out!” slashes out of the gate like a classically trained punk, fist-raised, and “All Summers Now” recalls the post-hype live GBV sound, all drum fills, chunk riffs and warbling vocals.

I’m genuinely curious about the spoken introduction to “Spotlight” which is: “This next song is the ninth song on our new album.” (Yes, “Spotlight” is the ninth song on the record.) Causing me to wonder if there was a predetermined concept here to record the first half of the album in the studio and the second half live, all with a pre-sequenced track order? Bold move, if so! The album ends with some of its strongest material. All feature some great guitar work, the rollicking “I’m Going to Break You Down” (my favorite), “I’m So Tall” (cool opening lick) and the closing title track about moving on from one passion to make room for a new passion to enter your life. A worthy message we can all stand to hear once in a while. Now, is there a new opening for Somerset Meadows to dream of making an all-live record? We shall see. 

T.T.T.T. - I Saw You on the Bloody Floor [Record Beach] 

Ah, the rarely employed quadruple consonant acronym band name. Has anyone else been successful with that paradigm aside from C.C.C.C.? Has anyone else even tried? Well, Buffalo’s T.T.T.T. is fearlessly throwing its hat in the ring, and while the title I Saw You on the Bloody Floor would certainly encourage the thought of a C.C.C.C.-style feedback-ridden onslaught, its debut 7” goes down like a spoonful of sugar, comparatively speaking.

The title track volleys between the psych-groove-hypnotism of that initial Wooden Shjips 10” and the Echoplex’d-to-death garage-crush of early Comets on Fire. Favorite moment? The half-hearted, possibly inebriated closing drum fill. A.I. could never pull that off! The first half of “Mountain King Killed My Car” is a little ho-hum but when it shifts to the second act, it gets real badass right quick—I realize it's a carefully plotted bait and switch! A sinister surf bassline kidnaps the song and all the drums and guitar can do is try to keep up.

Despite being slated as the B-side, “On the Sleigh of the Damned” gets its own side to stretch its limbs. The track has a great late 60s strung out deathgroove, maybe a touch like Sex Church but with a far better chance of landing a soundtrack spot in a miniseries about the Manson murders. My favorite of the bunch! The problem here is I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to pronounced “T.T.T.T.”. Am I really supposed to say “Tee-Tee-Tee-Tee” out loud when guests at my next cocktail party ask me where to find new blasts of burnt out psych squall?? 

V.Vecker - Hololine [Drongo Tapes] 

I know they’re out there (just like the truth) but I must confess I haven’t been keeping tabs on the cosmophonists lately. I was a big Radiant Husk guy back in the day (still am!) and this cassette by V.Vecker recalls that fellow celestial sax voyager. Hololine is split into two pieces “Holo” and “Line” (imagine that), the former being self-recorded and the latter being recorded north of the border by the illustrious Chris Dadge. “Holo” is heavy, dude. I don’t know what V.Vecker’s process is. A live improvisation? Multi-tracked affair? There’s such depth of sound that there must be (at minimum) loops orbiting (whether prepared or improvised) resulting in enough gravity to shift some planets out of alignment. Whether a honk, screech or a bowel-agitating motif, V.Vecker wrangles a range of sounds from the horn in a drifting vacuum of inevitability. (Please don’t run any of those metaphors by an actual physicist.) “Line” is calmer, more melodic; more of an exploring the cosmos full of wonderment type of affair rather than a gradual planetary implosion like the first side. Vecker surfs along amiably until being swallowed up in self-generated feedback and escaping just quickly enough to see what’s on the other side of the wormhole. The two sides resonate well together, sweet and sour, yin and yang. If you’re up for interstellar sax travel, get your ticket. Thumb up from me.

Early Spring 2024

Elena Dakota - River Record! [Cudighi] 

Been sleeping on getting a review together for another wonderful cassette from Cudighi Records but I’m awake now. Elena Dakota is a brand new name to me (and the nom de plume of Elena Nees), and what a talent she is. Last September, I spent a week in the backyard stripping and sealing my deck. I started listening to the SongExploder podcast, which I’d heard much about. I listened to many episodes with “singer-songwriter” types that I was not very fond of. Sometimes, when they played the demo at the beginning, the seed was promising but by the end of the episode the final version was totally forgettable. Too much affectation in the vocal performances, consistently unaffecting or unimaginative arrangements, no je ne sais quois. I asked the music podcast gods, why couldn’t I have heard an episode with Elena Dakota? Or, for that matter, an episode for each of the eight songs comprising River Record!? Everything that my jaded ears objected to, is done properly by Nees. 

Nees’s voice is sleepily sanguine, accompanied by the gentle thrum of her guitar. The arrangements are spare but never boring, and sometimes one of the guest instruments really makes the song (see Sam Newman’s lonesome trombone on “These Walls Know How To Float” and “Plasticine, as I do the Sky”, or the muffled thump of the percussion on “Rice Noodles”, another highlight). “Walls”, in particular, stands out with the way Nees’s voice delicately intertwines with the brass and winds coiling around her. Nees shifts the tempo up on “Women in the Air”, her most accomplished composition, that really shines with gorgeous vocal harmonies. The spectacular closer “Lady Godiva (There is No Gun)” seems to push open the tight Academy aspect ratio that has framed River Record! up to that point into a sprawled out widescreen composition as Elena Dakota saunters off hypnotically into the distance, with her backing band in tow.

Reminiscent of the intimacy of Maxine Funke, early Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake aglow under a pink moon and maybe a bit of Samara Lubelski and Hall of Fame, and a good rainy day companion to the Seth Thomas LP Cudighi put out a year or two ago. Nees seems to have the right feel, the right intuition to make affecting, meaningful songs. My intuition says she’s just getting started and she’s got even better songs inside of her. I hope to hear them one day.

Taylor Daukas - Long Gone [Moone] 

Lately, I have been enjoying this fantastic little tape Long Gone from Taylor Daukas who has joined up with the Moone records crew in the deserts of the Southwest. The first side is strong, with two little gems plus an instrumental composed by producers Micah Dailey and Janie Dailey. “Pearl” and “Believing” pair up nicely, and I’d have been plenty satisfied if this were simply a cassingle. Each track features a languidly effective vocal melody that covertly digs its hooks right in. Daukas’s voice is the anchor and the arrangements sway around her forming a warm halo. “Pearl” features an oblique percussive stamp, almost sounds like a loop of someone knocking on the door but Daukas wades into even stranger territory later on. The title track marks the most peculiar arrangement on the tape, but it’s also the most exciting (though the oceanic trumpet on “False Door” is quite nice as well). Multi-tracked vocals, insistent not-quite-in-sync synths, field recordings of footsteps or the like, scatterbrained guitar plucks. You’re adrift in a swirl of instability but once again, Daukas’s voice is the guiding light, and when she tells you to “hold my hand” you reach for it without a second thought. 

Dimitriam - Amphora [Moone]
Homebrewed, hand dubbed, hand painted. Takes me back to the good old days of the cassette underground. Amphora, the latest from Tucson-based Dimitriam (also available on CD via Moone Records), is exceedingly easy on these skewed ears. If you tell me something was recorded on a 4-track, I’m already halfway in the bag, but Dimitriam can write some great songs too. The jaunty classicist pop romp, “Rug”, and the lightly smoldering epic, “Ceiling”, immediately stand out. Nestled among the proper songs are accomplished instrumental interludes. The goofily sloshed “QVC” carries with it an underpinning of dread due to a churning, ominous rhythm section. “Not Here” is a quality parody/tribute to early 80s UK synth pop. Same could be said for “Maniac” as it kneels at the home taper altar of Daniel Johnston instead. Amphora’s consistent in its inconsistency; each track, whether a hook-laden tune or backward tape experiment, is imbued with the same good natured warmth. What more do you want out of a cassette?

FMF - Future Moss Fortress [Drongo Tapes] 

Alright, so my reference point for FMF (possibly standing for “Future Moss Fortress”, or perhaps the titles of their releases fill in the blanks a new way each time, a la D. Yellow Swans and C.C.T.V.) is a band they don’t necessarily sound that much like. That band is Black Dice, but let me explain. The catch here is that Black Dice’s sound changed every couple years, and the impressive and galvanizing stunt that FMF pull off is that they sound like every piece of Black Dice vinyl melted down and repressed into one. From the early days of avant-hardcore ten second blasts of screams and static to Black Dice’s dance floor flirtations and latter day exploits into the aural version of squiggle vision. FMF sound like all that and more, and all at once. Speaking of Black ____ bands, side B’s killer drum solo shenanigans and squirting synth blurps gave intense seizure flashes of Black Pus, albeit thoroughly chopped and liquified in a Cuisinart from an estate sale down the street. Wisely, Future Moss Fortress is edited down to a dense, kinetic, cranial collapsing 16 minute carnival ride you will want to hop on again. Reserve that fast pass. 

Patois Counselors - Enough: One Night at the Daisy Chain [Ever/Never] 

A bit of an unusual release, but a welcome one. This isn’t a live record as there’s no audience, but it’s kinda like a live record with no audience. Perhaps you could say this is the highest quality practice tape ever released. Even though they’ve got a new LP on the horizon, Patois Counselors, the hardest working band in rock & roll, decided they might as well pop into the The Daisy Chain in NYC for one night of wild passion. They run through a set of old favorites from their prior two LPs but also drop a hearty helping of new songs too. It’s the latter that had my ears curling. By my count, we get four cuts from the first LP Proper Release. and one from The Optimal Seat, thankfully it’s “The Galvanizer” (my desert island Counselors pick, if the Lord scorned me enough to place me on a deserted island but loved me enough to provide me with a stereo). That means that over half the songs here are new (didn’t recognize any from the first 7” either). Not sure if they’re working them out for the next LP or just part of the live set, but it’s enticing to get a look at them nevertheless.

The opener was judiciously selected as “Serious Rider” has everything you want in a Counselors tune, including a soaring chorus (Counselors’ style). Definitely my favorite of the new crop. “Just Made Scarce” is an exciting new tune with great unexpected melodies and a kind of new wave-in-a-car-wreck aesthetic. I’m hoping there’s a forthcoming fully produced album version, and wondering how many Durans will be injured during the making of it. I’m enjoying the group’s newfound flair for drama as well. The excellent “Fountain of UHF” is chock full of noirish intrigue and the sextet turns into power balladeers on the memorable “Bands I Barely Spoke With”. I don’t know if any of the versions of the older tunes will replace the album versions in fans’ hearts but it’s still a delight to hear alternate takes, the rollicking and rocked up rendition of “Modern Station” is particularly fun. The one exception is “Get Excitement” which sounds especially unhinged, more so than the album track. Patois Counselors is one of the best bands we’ve got right now and it’s been four long years since their last record, so savor this cassette and get excitement that a new LP shall be bestowed before long.

ROCKTOBER 2023

Parker Allen - Melon Kolly/Parker’s First Song Diary [Ever/Never] 

I was quite excited when this cassette arrived in the mail earlier in the year, as a fan of Donna (formerly Parker) Allen’s work in Texas outfit Chronophage. As already evidenced in Chronophage’s frenetic post-whatever out-pop, Allen is quite the songwriter so a “song diary” intrigued to no end. The cassette shell calls this tape “aesthetic exercises” and that’s a shameless misnomer of modesty if there ever was one. These songs may be relatively simple home recordings but they are fully formed and undeniably beautiful, and could never be mistaken for mere exercises. I am an absolute sucker for top-notch songwriting in a home-recorded environment so I could write many, many words about this but I must stay disciplined. “We Could” recalls the Tascam intimations of Creeper Lagoon before they started making proper studio albums (think “Tonight was Fun”) and that hits me right in the lo-fi pleasure zone. Cyclical acoustic guitar and rhythmic wheeze in the background, total perfection. Allen exhibits both a strong grasp of melody and how to deliver it via oblique methods. Melon Kolly could be quickly summed up as “confessional folk music” except that Allen’s doesn’t sound like anyone else’s. Songs like “Mother” and “Afterbirth” are sweet and soothing yet keep listeners on their toes. “Imps” almost harkens back to 80s synth pop symphonies despite its modest and largely acoustic arrangement, it doesn’t take much to envision it as a killer tune by Simple Minds, Tears for Fears or Depeche Mode. The ratio of vocal tracks and instrumentals is about 50/50, and the instrumental pieces are some of the best the cassette has to offer, particularly the opening fingerpicked arpeggios of “Ankh” which seamlessly draw you into Allen’s world. The instrumentals often highlight a particular instrument (whistling on “Red”, melodica on “Rosemary Many Voices” and the gorgeous “An Award”) and many sit in a minor key but the jaunty “Sunday Painters” (perhaps a tribute to the Aussie band?) is much more wistful—porch music for a sunny afternoon. I hope this is the First Song Diary of many more from Allen. It’s much more ambitious than its humble demeanor would lead you to believe. 

Eyes and Flys - Swirl Maps [no label] 

Eyes and Flys, lead by Pat Shanahan and a shifting group of collaborators, have been regularly self-releasing 7” singles for the past several years, usually selling them at the prices of a 1997 mailorder catalog (this LP is only ten bucks on their bandcamp). In that time Shanahan has relocated from the frigid temps of Buffalo to the sunny climes of Long Beach. All that solar power has generated the first Eyes and Flys full-length LP, the ten-song Swirl Maps. The record exhibits a mixture of the various Eyes and Flys modes, whether it be classic knockabout music (opening thumper “Dogs on the Beach” and album highlights “Return to the Earth” and “Empty Safe”) or when they downshift into a mellower gear. Though when Eyes and Flys mellow, they rarely soften as heard on “Records and Books”, “St Roch”, or “Close Your Eyes” which flirts with straight noise. Shanahan’s perma-sneer tends to be the central throughline in Eyes and Flys’ music, but it does take a break on the goth-y ballad “Take The Keys” and the fuzzed up, free floating instrumental “Termino”. The eponymous “Eyes and Flys” from the band’s first 7” is revisited here in a faster, amped-up version. It's one of E+F’s catchiest tunes, a raucous four-chord stomper, now finely tuned for instant party. A welcome return even if it takes everything I have to restrain myself from putting a boot through my TV and chucking a lamp out my living room window. Most interestingly, “Cactus Flowers” nudges Eyes and Flys into an almost Royal Trux-y direction, revamping various 70s guitar moves into its punk architecture, perhaps gesturing to a future cock rock teardown/reconfigure on record #2. I’m down. Oh, I almost forgot, there is some fierce tambourine playing on this record! 

James Fella & Gabriella Isaac - Performances [Gilgongo] 

I was a fan of James Fella’s and Gabriella Isaac’s previous LP CCTK Music (which you can read more about HERE) and I’m a fan of this here follow up Performances as well. The first track is another performance of the piece “CCTK Music” where Fella and Isaac mix and manipulate six stereo reference lacquers running into a 12-channel mixer summed to a final stereo output (a handy visual diagram is included). Just as on the preceding LP, the duo wages war with noise, sculpting lacerating feedback and industrial-sized low frequency churn. For all those, like me, who enjoy having their inner ear scraped. In addition to this new performance, Isaac and Fella each contribute a solo performance—unrelated to "CCTK Music" as far as I can tell. Issac’s comes first and it’s comparatively minimal, if no less aggressive. Between the sharp digital pings, groaning bodies under the topsoil, and sheer sonic terror Isaac unleashes when she takes the gloves off (keep your hand near the volume knob if you wish to survive) this track takes the top of my head clean off. Expertly composed/improvised, the track makes for beloved discomfort, particularly near the end where quick blasts of static fracture and multiply in eternal irresolution. Bravo! Fella, alternately, contributes a tape machine-based piece, where the audible mechanical functions of tape machines become the primary tissue of the composition. Fragments of audio playback weasel their way in. Sometimes you catch the echo of a guitar, or a piano, or a voice, or a TV set. They are just fleeting glimpses while you spiral into hypnosis. Noises start to come faster, the relaxation becomes unsettling, uncertainty sets in, “did I already hear that sound before?” A sustained tone grows from somewhere amid the skittering static, getting stronger, and that’s the creepiest thing on the pallet. It’s a terrifying, grinding come down from Side A. What a ride. Given not only the overall quality, but the variety at play here, Performances actually surpasses its predecessor. And the cover is none more yellow, you can’t not love that. 

Post Moves & The Sound Memory Ensemble - Recall the Dream Breath [Moone/Lobby Art Editions] 

A new artist to me, Post Moves combines two of my many interests, basketball and pedal steel. (If you’re not already fascinated by pedal steel, get with it.) Post Moves is the nom de plume of Sam Wenc, here credited in conjunction with The Sound Memory Ensemble to highlight contributions from Kyle Field (Little Wings) and John Dieterich (Deerhoof), as well as Wenc’s work on many instruments beyond pedal steel (such as percussion and bowed strings). The first half of the record consists of “composed” pieces and then segues into pieces that were improvised (or developed during recording), though the record moves along far more seamlessly than that sounds. The first (“composed”) side consists of opener “Grief Fields” and “Lorraine’s” and it’s quite beautiful, taken in its entirety. There is a gently undulating quality as instrumentation is gradually added after the initial pedal steel rumination, then peeled back again and so forth. To my ears, inspiration is clearly drawn from early Godspeed You! Black Emperor (there’s even a spoken word piece via Field that materializes from the ether) but Post Moves is clearly mapping its own territory with the lovely textures of the rustic arrangements and a free flowing lonesome desert spirit (despite this being recorded in the Northeast!). Where GY!BE was a paranoid heart attack at the time, Recall the Dream Breath is comparatively soothing, wryly languorous and contented. Although it is one of the “improvised” pieces, I must say “The Ladder’s Shadow” is the most evocative and gloriously accomplished piece on the album, including its sinister conclusion. Appearing smack dab in the middle of the record, it easily represents its peak. Chock full of atmosphere but not dull or formless in the least, Recall the Dream Breath is a wonderfully conceived and orchestrated record for many occasions. 

Strapping Fieldhands - Lyve: In Concerte [Ever/Never] 

Whether it’s “Philly’s Finest” or “The best post-skiffle group on the planet”, Strapping Fieldhands, one of the most exemplary musical outfits generated by 90s America, are known by many names. They were once viewed in the loose group of “lo-fi” bands from the early 90s alongside Pavement, Grifters and Guided By Voices (they’re even thanked on Bee Thousand) but they never got as much shine as they should have compared to their peers, at least in my view. It's absolutely incredible that the band is still going after 30+ years and we should all rejoice at our good fortune. Surprisingly, the Hands have never been bestowed the “live album” honor they’ve so richly deserved, until now that is—thanks to our guardian angels at Ever/Never. The recordings comprising the LP are from 1993-96, recorded by legends in their own right, Mike Rep and Tommy Jay (R.I.P.). So many classic cuts appear here (“He’s Right!” “Arrogant Flower” and on and on) with the majority of the setlist drawn from their first LP Discus and their essential 10” In The Pineys. With those being my two personal favorite Fieldhands releases, it will come as no surprise that I’m as happy and pleased as clam punch while listening to Lyve: In Concerte. (It should be noted that some songs appear with alternate titles, “Kiwis Go Home” is billed here as “I’m Going”, for example.) Double pleasure for me because a couple of songs that only appeared on compilations I don’t own appear here (“Just Too Much” from the Pimps Toe Accelerator comp and “Ollie’s Interfader” from Carry On Ooij (A Brinkman Waaghals Compilation)). 

Picking out highlights here is a bit of a silly exercise because they’re all hits. I will say that the rollicking “He’s Right!” is perhaps my favorite Fieldhands tune and the version captured here does not disappoint with the band sounding surprisingly tight with livewire energy. Nevertheless, the Fieldhands' finest moment on Lyve may just be their epic rendition of “Lonnie Donegan’s Mum’s Tea Chest” which gets me hootin’ and hollerin’ every time. I’m also delighted that a version of “Future Pastoral” made it onto the record (tagged as “I Don’t Know Why”) replete with sick accordion accompaniment.  

Oftentimes, live albums prove to be a for-fans-only proposition. Lyve: In Concerte, however, also serves as a great introduction to the band. It may lack some of the softer, more intricate moments present on their albums but fully captures the spirit of the band plowing through a collection of classic tunes. Recommended for longtime fans, new fans, and fans-yet-to-be. All hail the Hands! 

Gene Tripp - The Ghost of Gene Tripp [Moone/SickSickSick] 

On the heels of Caleb Dailey’s LP from last year, Moone Records, alongside fellow desert explorers SickSickSick, are back with another cosmic country platter. The Ghost of Gene Tripp is an altogether different beast, however. Whereas Dailey sounded drowsily in love with life, Tripp (alter ego of Jay Hufman) reeks of forlorn menace. In fact, this 12” boldly begins with several minutes of blistering static and bowed drones, part way between the bucolic feedback of Flying Saucer Attack and spicier firestarters like Hototogisu. My favorite moment of the record comes right in between the first two tracks. The aforementioned voiceless firestorm suddenly yields to Tripp’s booming baritone as “Trains” springs to life. Lonesome ambling set against downed power lines smoldering ten yards yonder. It is a splendidly jarring juncture as Gene’s ghost cracks open, leaking out a sticky black goo of rippling guitar and spooked out strings, while feedback yelps in the distance, intent on survival. The combo of those two tracks is a real barnburner and quite possibly my favorite 10 minute stretch of 2023 sounds. The high point may come early but Tripp doesn’t rest on his laurels. “Give Up” and “Go Home” hew closer to Gene’s presumed upbringing as a country & western balladeer without betraying the wilting atmosphere of danger. “Blurry Clouds” marks the most harmonious point of the record as voice and guitar picking slip into the warm arms of a string machine, a brief respite from the corrosive hiss. Recommended listening while underground (basement, subterranean cavern, whathaveyou), with all light sources extinguished. 

Witness K - Witness K [Ever/Never] 

Two of the most common origins for fantastic listening experiences are Ever/Never records and Australia. The two parties’ handshake agreement has most recently given the U.S. shores such wonders as Spiritual Mafia and Cured Pink. While Witness K shares personnel overlap with Cured Pink, they’re certainly no copy. Cured Pink operated very much in the vein of a 21st century This Heat, while Witness K—though carrying over the rhythmic underpinnings and subtle paranoia of that sound—forges a pathway through both the home-fi avant-garde (The Shadow Ring and its offspring) and the well-funded avant-garde (20th century Minimalism). (Check out that ascending/descending flute line on “Reasonable Minds May Differ”. Choice.) All that said, the group’s eponymous debut LP is surprisingly inviting. Whether spun upon waking, before bed or at high noon, it pleasantly worms its way into any space, at any time. The album’s lethargic insistence assures that it never overwhelms nor does it bore. It's a warm tub to soak in for as long as you like, free from the derivative “ambient” horseshit we’re subjected to on a daily basis. There’s not a perfect RIYL analog to select for Witness K, which is the absolute most a listener can ask for, but the closest I can muster is Movietone. Not the same sonically, but clearly a spiritual resemblance to my ears. If you’re listening to Movietone, you should be listening to Witness K. If you’re listening to Witness K, you should be listening to Movietone. If you’re not listening to either, get outta my house. A killer LP well worth your time. 

Xerex - Xerex Meets Dracula [No Part of It] 

Screaming Lord Sutch, Xerex is not but that doesn’t mean you can’t soundtrack your next Halloween party with Xerex Meets Dracula. It wouldn’t be one of those “fun” Halloween parties, more of the haunted variety. Manipulated samples of church bells, droning pipe organ and filtered synth churn litter the brooding proceedings. Meditative but certainly not soothing. Oh yeah, I’m burying the lead here. Xerex, according to the back cover, is a conspicuously “anonymous” duo of German brothers named Karl and Jan, a pair of conjoined twins who happen to have been grown in a petri dish as elderly mathematicians in 1972. Do with this “information” what you will! This CD is an expanded reissue of a hyper limited LP because the kids were clamoring for more.