Artists - Label

July 21, 2008

Mark Barrage

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Barrage on Myspace

Barrage website

MP3: Hindsight

Video: Poisoned 

Cracked pop fuzzbox MARK BARRAGE makes a nervy sound tonic, equal parts pop music EQd to breaking point and midnight crucifix synth-kraut.

Three years in the making, Delays by Mark Barrage (release date October 2008) finds the dissonant electronic songster shift from the overtly lyrical, heartbreak-obsessed territory of his debut into realms of hard sound, dance timings, band-ish arrangements and bleary-eyed nighttime sensation. The haunting melodies and pop song format remain, but the production is more gassy and art damaged - with lyrics oftentimes obscured by batteries of electronic layers, or treated simply as concrete sound.

The album’s mix of direct-pop intent, darkened electronic palette and woozy, pepped-up rhythms belies interests in punk performance as well as headphone electronics. Short and immediate vocal tunes intersperse with heavy instrumental, mood-laden vignettes, giving the record an overall, private/public tension, and the weird, compelling sound of labored programming destined for the band-room. DIY-produced at home with synthesizer, tapes, sampler, drum set, guitars and basic timeline-edit audio software, Delays’ accelerated, natural pace breathes new life into electronics’ artifice; working backwards to an affectation of life like vampiric possession, or experience felt in hindsight.

Mark Barrage has played over one hundred shows in Melbourne since 2003, many times alongside local indie highlights Panel of Judges, Love of Diagrams, Spider Vomit, ii, Hi God People, The Emergency, Always, Pets with Pets and Mistletone recording artists Francis Plagne, Kes and Beaches, among many more. Recent international supports include Dan Deacon, YACHT, Telepathe (all USA), El Guincho (Spain) and The Renderers (NZ).

Straddling the twin influences of electronic music and underground rock, Delays is a Morphean album in the spirit of Australia’s Severed Heads, the classic Komische groups and hard-art overseas labels Human Ear Music and Sacred Bones.

“Skittery, blunt mix of DIY electronic/minimal synth solitude and a marked New Romantic sense of melody and melancholy… Melbourne’s Barrage working in a one-man mode in which a lot of his modern day counterparts (Glass Candy, Chromatics, Minimal Wave/Wierd Records acts, even Dan Deacon) are missing a bigger picture. Rapidly engaged in a pop core and an android shell… songs that will linger in your ears longer than you’d expect.” - DUSTED MAGAZINE

April 5, 2008

Beaches

beaches

Beaches Myspace

MP3: Sandy

Beaches are Antonia Sellbach, Alison Bolger, Ali McCann, Gill Tucker and Karla Way from Melbourne, Australia. The debut album by Beaches is currently being recorded by Jack Farley and will be released by Mistletone in the Australian spring.

From Groupie magazine:

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From the Herald Sun:

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Mess + Noise review:

Last night I thought of Beaches, the movie starring Bette Midler and Barbara Hershey. It was the first time I had thought of that movie since Beaches the band started going, which made me love the band even more. Apologies to Bette and Barbara, but Beaches are the new Beaches: Ali, Alison, Antonia, Karla and Gill.

The other night Beaches played a show. It was the fourth for them and the first time for me. People I trust said it ruled. It certainly did and I’ve seen a lot of rock shows. Four blondes, one brunette, three guitars, one bass plus drums, producing better indie rock than almost any man I have ever known — not an important comment, just a passing one.

Three of Beaches’ four blondes play in celebrated, yet arguably inferior rock groups (Love of Diagrams, Spider Vomit, Panel of Judges). Probably premature to compare them to the mighty Panel, even though both bands churn out a sticky melodic juju that’s hard to find and even harder to resist: a potion of vixen rhythms and diamond-light guitar strokes. At the Public Bar, the instrumentals rocked finest. ‘Sandy’, punctuated by Gary Glitter-y yelps, is the obvious cut for half-time at the MCG, though I doubt Beaches would agree philosophically, it would make them revoltingly rich!

After years of studying her former beau, Paul, in action for Panel of Judges, Karla Way has made her drumming debut. It’s like a version of Karate Kid III with Paul as Pat Morita and Karla as Hillary Swank with far more interesting results. Karla drums just like Charlie Watts!

I hesitate to make comparisons with other bands, especially after only seeing them once, plus my memory is hazy, ah what the hell, The Rolling Stones’ Tattoo You tour circa ’81 (see I told you). My wish is that someday there will only be two types of people in this world, ones who know Beaches the movie and the ones who know Beaches the band and the ones who only know Beaches the movie will have to get their heads examined.

by Shane Moritz

March 25, 2008

Lucky Dragons

lucky dragons

Lucky Dragons website

Lucky Dragons myspace

MP3: Starter Culture

LUCKY DRAGONS TOURING AUSTRALIA OCTOBER 2008! watch this space for details

“Dream Island Laughing Language” by Lucky Dragons

Lucky Dragons is the brainchild of Los Angeles savant Luke Fischbeck, together with Sarah Rara and other collaborators. Dream Island Laughing Language, the 19th release by Lucky Dragons details the continuing pursuit of a humble and ecstatic, drippy and explosive, smoldering and upset music.

This is music that articulates Lucky Dragons’ experience in America right now. Messages of unrest have long failed to be clearly understood, solitude and empty organization have given way to a very current volcanic desire for togetherness. Genre has never been less important; influences and ideas are consumed and digested and released in the spirit of a culture larger than music as it is bought and sold. This is world music for a world that doesn’t care about “music” as we have packaged it for the last 100 years. You could call it post-noise, or post-anything you like, but we would prefer to call it pre-something.

Lucky Dragons came together in the spring of 2000 in an attempt to create a band that would never break up. The name is borrowed from a Japanese fishing vessel caught in the fallout of a US hydrogen bomb test in the Pacific ocean that became a focal point for world-wide anti-nuclear sentiment in the 20th Century. With a constantly shifting group of participants, each recording is a record of a specific time and place, and of those present and active as a community in the creation of the recording.

For this recording, the time is 2007-2008, the place is California. The name of the record refers to the landfill-island in Tokyo Harbour where the original Lucky Dragon now lives –”dream island”, and to the creation of imaginary languages — “laughing language” — that can be used to express things our own languages can’t.

As with Lucky Dragons’ legendary live performances, these recordings strive to create a space where community and memory and ritual and perspective all come together as a crystal and then vibrate and shatter.

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Cyclic Defrost review :

Lucky Dragons is really quite and intriguing offering. It’s experimental music with a real world music leaning, focussing on these percussive textures, though often adding these shy rhythmic vocals. It begins with the sounds of distorted gongs, so what do they call it? Clipped Gongs - way to cover up a mistake. Except I hope it’s not a mistake because it sounds great. There’s a certain carefree genius at work here. Every rule you’ve ever known gets carelessly broken in a unselfconscious savant kind’ve way. It’s incredibly minimal, repetitive, with very few elements, and an almost cyclical drive, which taps right into the spiritual world music angle. Yet it’s also at times quite electronic with these looped electrical flecks existing alongside spasmodic bursts of acoustic guitar and the odd dose of moaning. Lucky Dragons are not trying to do too much, they get a groove going and stick to it with a vague slightly hysterical bent- these short fragments of song that never wear out their welcome thanks to their brevity. It’s LA based Luke Fischbeck and Sarah Rara who are part of a collective that has spawned 18 previous offerings, though, if anywhere deserved a little dose of unexpected lo fi post electronica spirituality it’s that terrible joint. It’s innocent, possibly stupid and very infectious as these incredible loops continue to build until you find these fully formed ultra funky fragments of sound and you wonder to yourself, why am I not dancing?

Bob Baker Fish

The Big Issue review (4.5 stars):

Dream Island Laughing Language is shudders of sound and melody and rhythm; it is splinters of light through trees. It is a chest full of fresh air and a head full of computer parts; it is clouds and planes and birds in the same sky. It is the 19th release from hyper-prolific young Los Angelite Luke Fischbeck (aka Lucky Dragons) and it is as wonderfully surreal and joyous as its title portends.

Woven via fragments of melody, percussion, texture and wordless voice, the record’s 22 fleeting vignettes reference but never embrace a stockpile of musical and ethnographic intonations. Psychedelic melodic hues, static-riddle noise and placid Japanese folk inflections entwine themselves deep within skittering electronic rhythms. The effect is startling – as equally cerebral as it is immersive and emotive. See the brilliant ‘Morning Ritual’ and ‘Mirror Friends’ for evidence.

Dream Island is a rare and astoundingly individual record. Brimming with both familiarity and near alien abstraction, it resonates with the intriguing contradictions of contemporary culture. Indeed, while these sonic scapes shine with sprawling cross-cultural scope, they also whisper with intimacy, contingence and connection. Lucky Dragons has crafted a work of wondrous, iconoclastic musical syntax.

Dan Rule


Three Thousand review:

The nanotechnological dream of photosynthesizing computers appears within reach when listening to Lucky Dragons. While the Macs employed by the LA duo are probably the regular kind - plastic, circuits, software - the weird and near-total naturalism of their sound on umpteenth release, Dream Island Laughing Language, begs the question - are they not living things, inlaid with grass, coconut husk or animal skin? While everything here is excessively treated, chopped and processed, somehow it comes across as Natural History - ethnomusicological and live, suntanned and relaxed - like a bunch of geckos and undiscovered aboriginal life jamming together on some Tron-island beach.

Twenty-two tracks fly-by on the wind, light and sunny, but as complicated in detail as any rainforest walk. Players Luke Fischbeck and Sarah Rara push seemingly unlimited sound sources through the digital glass - tabla, shakers, wind-chimes, recorders - yet never unnecessarily pile up the layers. Tracks are short patterns that typically drop away once formed, with nothing overly laboured or ‘meaningful’ in a pop sense. But this is pop as regularly issued by Mistletone; unrecognisable, alien and joyful. Our closest touchpoint might be Black Dice circa Creature Comforts, or locals Snawklor, but even then we’re still a way off.

By Mark Gomes

mX newspaper review (4 stars):

Like a friendly cousin to Black Dice, or the difficult offspring resulting from a one-night-stand between Boards of Canada and Panda Bear, Lucky Dragons main man Luke Fischbeck, here with Sarah Rara, have produced an intoxicating blend of digital samples, non-descript vocal chants, handclaps and muted recorder lines. Dream Island’s 21 tracks have no real structure, building up and buzzing around the ears like mosquitoes on a hot night, before changing direction or disappearing completely. Despite its digital leanings, Dream Island is a very organic sounding album, almost trance-inducing at times - Wander Birds is a dark electronic track built from light synths, reminiscent of Clark’s Body Riddle, and Wooden Cave Loop is a great acoustic tropical island cave jam. Were you to bury a microphone deep in an anthill, amplify the resulting recording a thousand times and play it through a stack of giant conch shells, and this is probably what you’d hear. Yes, it’s a good thing.

By Alex Fregon

Rose Quartz review:

Lucky Dragons makes the best sort of dance music because of course it’s not dance music, the new album Dream Island Laughing Language is not governed by beats, favouring percussive rhythms and layers of textures and the rays of the brightest sun instead. Open the window and let it in, turn it up loud because the spirit of all the songs on this tropical forest of a record positively beams joy and humility. ‘Givers’ is right out there on the dance floor but ‘Realistic Rhythm’ does more of a Growing sort of shuffle, airy and diamond bright. There’s a tribal element to Lucky Dragons and it’s bolsted by a sense of humour or quirk. It sounds ecstatic.

“Lucky Dragons create ecstatic music that completely transcends genres. My attempts to describe what their music actually sounds like always fall short of the magic they are making. I guess you could say it sounds like — ecstatic magic. Challenging stereotypes that electronic music is cold and sterile, Lucky Dragons’ live show, though conducted via computers, is a truly great celebration of the human spirit, giving real hope for the techno-future our society is racing toward.” -artforum

“A line between the handmade and the distanced digital… a successful forging of the personal detritus, the mic-ed moments between moments”

-All Music Guide

“Lucky Dragons have managed to create a completely new strand of West Coast American psychedelia”
-frieze

lucky dragons

ABOUT LUCKY DRAGONS

Lucky Dragons” means any recorded or performed or installed or packaged or shared pieces made by Luke Fischbeck, Sarah Rara, and any sometimes collaborators. They try to do as many different kinds of things as they can, high and low, fast and slow. They would say they are “artists who use music” and if they make performance art it is to alter and append it, but they give respect to history and the people who live there.

Today’s influences include: Nikki de St Phalle, Joan Didion, COBRA, Hieronymous Bosch, Thomas Jefferson, Tina Turner, Allan Kaprow, Joan Jonas, Bruce Nauman, Mayan codices, Ivor Cutler.

Lucky Dragons shows are about the birthing of new and temporary creatures– creating equal-power situations in which audience members cooperate amongst themselves, to build a fragile network of digital signals connected by touching on the skin. There have been hundreds of these simple yet shifting and unpredictable instances– with audiences ranging from the intense intimacy of one person to the public spectacle of over one thousand people. At the heart of it all is playing together– building up social collectivities, re-engaging the wonder and impossibility of technology and live performance. It sounds– and looks– like simple and ancient patterns coming together and falling apart in a sincere attempt to let wires and screens and words become clear and crystal.

They keep a busy schedule of performances and visits and festivals and workshops and things, in the present, and in the past: NY’s PS1, the Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris, the Philadelphia Institute for Contemporary Art, the Portland Institute for Contemporary Art, the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, Frankfurt’s Schirn Kunsthalle, Los Angeles’ The Smell, NY’s The Kitchen, and the 2008 Whitney Biennial. In the future: The Smithsonian Institute’s Hirshorn Museum, etc.

Lucky Dragons live in Los Angeles California and have recorded 7 albums which are all available for downloading.

Lucky Dragons’ sister projects include sumi ink club — a weekly collaborative drawing society, and “glaciers of nice“–a small press and internet community.


February 1, 2008

High Places

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High Places on Myspace

High Places Blog

MP3: New Grace (from Mistletonia)

Video: High Places live at the FADER’s Sideshow, New York

“Intimate enough to sleep in, rhythmic enough to dance to; lo-fi and simple, but strange enough to get lost in” - PITCHFORK (Rating: 8.2)

“Day tripping Brooklyn duo High Places thoroughly enchant on this singles collection… Sun-bleached, dreamy and unfolding with a stream-of-consciousness feel” - THREE THOUSAND

“03/07 -09/07 might prove the best record of the summer. It’s not the kind to blast from a car stereo, but the sort that perfectly complements an afternoon lazing at the beach or sunbathing on the roof. They sing about sand and oceans; they build songs from burbling sounds, steel drum-like instrumental accompaniment, and percussion that sounds like clinking seashells.” - DUSTED MAGAZINE

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High Places are Mary Pearson and Robert Barber from Brooklyn. Mistletone will release High Places’ debut self titled album in September; in the meantime, 03/07-09-07 is a collection of singles to whet your appetite for all things High Places.

High Places began as an experiment in collaboration: two people with diverse artistic backgrounds coming together to merge their skills, aesthetic tastes, and music-making approaches. Rob grew up listening to punk and hardcore, and Mary studied bassoon performance, but both gravitated toward a DIY compositional style and a love of layers. It is the affinity for layering that has thus far defined the duo, both in ideas and instrumentation.

High Places’ songs contain a fascinating range of aural layers: bells and bird calls over a wash of ocean waves; mallets hitting mixing bowls over treated guitar and glockenspiel; Mary’s reflective vocals over Rob’s homemade beats. The result is an imaginative and spacious amalgamation of sounds with a unique, almost Caribbean undertone that is as immediate as it is refreshing.

Since their inception in 2006, High Places have honed their “exquisite corpse” style of songwriting, exchanging ideas back and forth, challenging one another’s expectations, pushing both performance and songs to new places, or more aptly, new heights. With each single, from “Head Spins” to “Sandy Feat” from “Greeting the Light” to “Granola” the band has revealed more complex elements within their layers be it in vocal texture, delicate melodic sense, or in new dimensions to their ever inventive and propulsive percussion.

The High Places singles collection “03/07 – 09/07” collects the above mentioned songs plus a few harder to find gems (“Jump In” being a song commissioned for an elementary school music program, “Freaked Flight” a reworked demo cut and “Canary” which appeared on a compilation) from 2007; making them all available for the first time world wide on CD. No need to scour EBay. All the magnificent tracks that endeared them to us and those lucky enough to have seen them so far, will be included.

The CD release of 03/07 – 09/07 will be followed by their eagerly awaited debut full-length due out on September 23rd, 2008. Until then the band will tour with Deerhunter and No Age and play the Pitchfork and MIDI Festivals.

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Three Thousand review:

Day tripping Brooklyn duo High Places thoroughly enchant on this singles collection - released locally through Mistletone. Sun-bleached, dreamy and unfolding with a stream-of-consciousness feel, these songs assume weird back-and-forth shapes; their tropical-tinged samples and faraway vocals rolling into themselves with the certainty of waves. Nothing seems intent on beginning or ending, but instead - like the short, impressionistic novellas of self-discovery favored in maudlin youth - all tracks roll out as a deepening trip into members Mary Pearson and Robert Barber’s private imaginary world.

Insofar as they conjure an elevated, top-of-the head kind of affect, there’s something in High Places’ approach akin to My Bloody Valentine’s famed ‘dry’ production aesthetic. But while the latter go dense and maximal to swirl your head, Barber and Pearson’s relaxed programming and wonder-infused lyricism is light, stripped-back and weightless. Shakers, xylophone, steel drum, tweaked kitchen recordings and Pearson’s breezy voice combine as an escapist scheme approaching out-of-body experience. This pair are the sound of sun-baking lovers, intoxicated, post-coital, on perpetual island holiday.

By Mark Gomes

High Places interview by Richard MacFarlane:

I interviewed Brooklyn two-piece High Places via email a few weeks ago for New Zealand magazine Real Groove. The printed article is short and meant I had to leave a lot out; a ‘first look’ at a band who is making many giddy via the internet, specifically with an online-only compilation 03/07 - 09/07. I can’t stop listening to it; their wriggly, polyrhythmic pop is hypnotising and beguiling and thoroughly engaging. Here is the full interview with Rob Barber and Mary Pearson, in which they talk (or type) about slugs, Brooklyn, their craft, polyrhythmics, punk and where the flip there album is.

How did you guys get started?

Rob: Mary was living in Michigan and we met through a mutual friend while she was visiting NYC. We instantly clicked. We became email and late-night phone call friends, and a couple weeks after meeting she set up a house show in Kalamazoo for my solo band, the Urxed, and my tourmates Matt and Kim. We decided to make music together through the mail, and tour together a few months later, but as solo projects. She moved to NY right before tour, and at the last minute we discovered how well our song making worked together. So we emailed everyone, and said “Hey, we are a band now”. I came up with a few really bad names, that probably still have ghostship myspace accounts with zero friends.

In terms of pouring a lot of time into the songs you make, is it just because yr perfectionists, or do you have a particular interest in art that is obviously worked on for a long time?

Rob: We are sort of perfectionists, but only because when you have a ton of parts mixing together, you have to be so it doesn’t sound terrible and muddy. Getting everything to blend and gel well is tricky sometimes. On the other hand, some of our better received songs came together very fast. I think our visual art side definitely influences our aesthetic sound. I want to score a film soooo bad!

Mary: My solo project was all about immediacy and minimalism, so High Places is certainly a departure from that. Occasionally we overwork a song and there’s just way too much going on, but for the most part, all the layers of sounds come together to form this new, unexpected thing.

Yr music seems to have a loving sort of touch; a strong idea of ‘craft’ or ‘homemade’. Is this something that’s important?

Rob: We enjoy making a lot of randomly unrelated parts and throwing them together in a big bowl and seeing what happens. Then we sort of obsess over the crafting of song structures. It can be a lot less fun when we are going over recordings of plastic bags being crumpled, trying to make them into something warm and familiar, but when we are successful, we are always pleasantly surprised. It’s like working on a puzzle, not knowing what it will be and then suddenly there it is in front of you. Or playing Wheel of Fortune. We don’t really buy a lot of vowels though.

At the same time, there’s a big element of like, the ‘whatever’ in yr music; really carefree and childlike. It seems to celebrate that sort of joyousness and haphazardness.

Mary: A lot of that really has to do with the way we record. We are okay with recording vocals when I have a bad cold and only a four-note range, we’re okay with the cats meowing or brushing up on the computer while we’re recording. So even though we are meticulous about the overall end product, we also leave a lot of the process up to chance.

Rob: It’s more like boredom with recognizable instrumentation. The haphazardness is definitely fun in the initial stage of trial and error, like seeing what sounds end up doing what. It can get overwhelming though. We have hard drives and and hard drives of archived sounds we have made, and our organization isn’t always the best. Sometimes it’s like “what folder was that one rhythm track in? The one with the clang-y thing-y?”

What instruments do you use to make all those sounds?

Rob: Well, we do often use regular old instruments, I like using my twelve string acoustic guitar, and Mary likes wind instruments. We feel pretty comfortable improvising together with them because that is what we historically play. But we record them in odd, non-pro ways, and multitrack the heck out them. Aside from that, we use krinkly things like paper and plastic bags, lots of kitchen items, metal bowls in particular. Anything that grabs our attention, really. Also lots of random percussion do-dads. Mostly it’s how we arrange it all that makes it unclear as to what the source sounds are. Also how we record and things like proximity to the mic and room tone are major factors.

With the DIY scene, well, I’m not sure what it’s like in Brooklyn but in Australia, there’s this real gravitation towards the noisy, that no wave sort of stuff that is really anti-musician. It negates the need for sincerity or emotion in favour of aesthetics, whereas you guys have a fun, poppy and carefree sort of vibe but seem to fit into a big DIY thing.

Rob: Yeah, it is like that here a lot as well. But the scene is incredibly diverse too. Nobody really sounds similar here. It’s pretty all over the place, and everyone gets along. There aren’t really genre divisions. It’s more about a mutual commonality and intent. Honestly, I think the bigger picture is more of a universal scene that we see happening, and feel part of. For example, our friend Lucky Dragons just did a split 5″ with a guy from Greenland called Goodiepal.

Mary: For a minute I think we considered making more of a pretty noise band or something, but ultimately, we both love melodies and feeling like there is some sort of human connection with the audience.

You mentioned in an interview re: Brooklyn scene “I just feel like we filled a void that was missing at the time, and that was just kind of an accident.”; do you feel like you would have been received differently somewhere else?

Rob: I think that if we lived in LA, people would’ve been totally stoked. At the time NY was for the most part a pretty aggressive sounding music scene. I guess you had Matt and Kim, but they are still a punk band. It all just kind of goes with the territory, I guess. When we started we were channeling some pretty heart-on-your-sleave vibe-age, bordering on being corny. We wanted to basically create a warmer, beachy-er environment. Escapist almost. We thought that the bar was raised so high for extreme and experimental music, particularly after Lightning Bolt, that we felt like to be punk, the only place to go was to be friendly and positive, and see how many people would get irritated by it. Not that we were at war with NY, we loved the scene and bands here, but we wanted to make some sort of impact on the way people thought about experimental music. Ultimately, we failed, because NYC surprised us and was very accepting and open to what we were doing.

So I’ve never seen you live but apparently it’s really loud? It seems hard to imagine in a way, I’ve always listened to yr music on headphones or at home on the stereo, not mega loud, it just seems like a more quiet/personal/insular sort of sound to me.

Mary: It’s important to us for everything to be really balanced so the samples match the volume of the live percussion, vocals, etc. We often use our own PA of four pretty massive speaker cabinets and we don’t use monitors, so part of the reason things get so loud is just so we can hear ourselves behind the speakers!

Rob: Well, we are super influenced by hip hop, and dance hall and club music, particularly how it sounds acoustically, bumping out of a car parked 100 meters away in the gas station parking lot at 2am. Plus when you are playing with bands like Lightning Bolt, you gotta keep up, or you disappear. Plus the way bass and bouncing panning percussive sound hits you can be so much fun!

Do you guys listen to a fair bit of hardcore/punk sort of stuff or do I have that wrong? So you haven’t always made these liquidy sounding pop songs?

Rob: I grew up on punk and hardcore, and I still love a lot of it. I don’t really follow the current scene though. I’m more historically attached to it. I always listened to a ton of different music though. It’s just that growing up, punk and hardcore was the most immediate forum for underground music. I was also very influenced by it in regards to personal/consumer politics.

Mary: We have a side project punk band in the works. I play bass and Rob plays guitar.

(What sort of stuff do you listen to?)

Rob: Everything! Seriously! It’s all important!

Mary: Right now we have the new Thank You record on. I’ve been listening to Brian Eno and the Boredoms a lot.

The track name ‘Banana Slugs’ seems to me a perfect way to describe the way it sounds; well, I’m thinking of this slug in a story by Arthur Bradford (from Dogwalking: Short Stories where there is this fluorescent slug they find in the glovebox of an abandoned car. Its like, a cute slug. Not a gross one.

Mary: When I was a little girl, I saw a slug for the first time at my aunt’s house in Seattle. Up until that point, I thought slugs were on par with unicorns or something. I was so excited to see one in real life! In Northern California, they have these slugs called banana slugs that are aptly named. They are yellow with brown spots, and we saw a bunch hanging out on redwood trees. “Shared Islands” actually is very inspired by a John Berger book Here Is Where We Meet. The part “It only goes without saying that this includes shared islands, twilights, deserts, seas, the deer of Nara, some books and engravings” is taken from a dedication by Jorge Luis Borges to his wife.

With a website like Pitchforkmedia giving you positive reviews, have you found this has changed much for you guys? In terms of maybe how you fit into the Brooklyn scene or just generally?

Rob: There is no doubt Pitchfork and other websites have helped us enormously outside of our town, particularly outside of the US. We appreciate so much all the time people spend writing and discussing music. It seems like a much more democratic way of communicating and finding out about music. It’s crazy that with all the music out there, that these people actually found us! We have toured the US extensively, but internationally, we have only played Mexico so far. The Brooklyn scene seems perhaps less reliant on the internet, because so much is happening right in front of you. I think playing out live is what people remember us for here, to the point that we actually got a reputation of maybe playing too much for a while, mostly because out of town friends were coming though, and would be asking us to play. Promoter Todd P is basically the lifeline to all that is rad in Brooklyn. Manhattan tends to be a bit different and has more of an “industry” vibe, people who make and follow blogs, or write about music for a living, or just out of love. It also has a lot of college kids. That crowd seems much more informed by the internet, but it is equally enjoyable to play to new people.

Do you feel any pressure to put this album out? Or do you feel affected by medias in working on songs for it?

Rob: Well, to further confound the “where’s their full length?” What label are they on?” questions, we have yet another 7″ and split 7″ with Xiu Xiu both coming out any day now. We are making a full length at our own cautious pace because we see it as growing into something new. How do you construct a good album? What makes the whole thing interact and flow with itself? We made our 7″ more like mini albums, and I guess we are learning how to stretch that out to album length. That is what we are figuring out right now, and we don’t really want to be on a schedule about it. That ruins the fun.

Do you play many house shows and things like that (as opposed to music venues)

Rob: It really depends on the town. Some towns such as Brooklyn, Baltimore and Denver have amazing diy spaces, so playing a club is actually a bad choice. Oakland only has diy stuff. Some clubs are cool, and others are scary and uncomfortable. You just need to have a good ear to the ground to find out what’s happening in any given town. We actually play in an art context fairly often too. Basically we like to mix it up, just to learn new things and keep it all fresh.

In terms of the new album, do you find yr approaching songs differently so they fit into an album context?

Mary: I think our writing process has naturally evolved into making longer, more complete sounding songs. In the beginning, we were so worried about people getting bored with our ideas, we often just chopped songs off at the two minute mark. We’re learning to give the songs time to grow.

Do you have any broader ideas in terms of this album? I mean, what are you going to try and do on the record?

Rob: We have been trying different ideas like a repeating or re-ocurring idea. Also blending the songs so they seem linked in a way.

Mary: The songs feel a bit more meditative or introspective, but still loud and dance-y. I guess the lyrics are more meditative and introspective, and the beats are dance-y. We’re also making the recordings relate more to our live, slightly more raucous sound.

There’s the polyrhythmic thing going on with yr songs; do you have any interest in that? I’ve been listening to quite a bit of African sort of music lately, ‘Graceland’, and also Arthur Russell was really into that I think. And now Panda Bear and a few others get on that vibe too

Rob: We actually think about it heavily. I love the idea that different people will pick up on different patterns and hopefully will groove on it in a more personalized way. The more rhythm based Moondog songs pull that off really well. I think we aren’t very academic with our “non-western” (for a lack of a better term) influences, and I think we confuse them a lot when we unconsciously and inevitably channel them. So it all blends. Luckily this works to our advantage more often than not.

Mary: One of my teachers in music school had some really awesome mnemonic devices to help us remember polyrhythmic patterns. I think my favorite is “pass the gosh darn ketchup,” which helps you remember 4 against 3. There’s a lot of passing the gosh darn ketchup in our songs.

What’s next after the album?

Rob: We are touring a tonne this summer, mostly as support (Deerhunter in Europe, and No Age in the US) and some festivals. The record will come out in September, when we will then tour the US more extensively, as well as trip over to Australia and (hopefully) New Zealand via our Australian label homies Mistletone Records.

High Places article by Michaella Solar-March:

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January 23, 2008

El Guincho

pablo

El Guincho on Myspace

MP3: Palmitos Park

MP3: El Guincho remix of Architecture In Helsinki’s Like It Or Not

Video: Kalise

El Guincho’s mind expanding debut album Alegranza is out now in Australia & New Zealand on Mistletone and is soon to be released on XL in the UK and USA.

“Mind-boggling Afro, Calypso and Tropicalia-flavoured debut… pitching percussion and tumbling rhythm against a collage of tropical psyche-funk samples, uplifting melodies and pulsing vocal chants. It’s club music with an organic and ethnographic twist, as potently danceable and accessible as it is proudly locative.”
- THE AGE

“The impressive and probably unwittingly fashionable source material– Afrobeat, dub, Tropicália, and early rock’n'roll– and the irresistibility of these songs can only briefly obscure the fact that no one else is really making music quite like this… This is music for children, in the best sense — wide-eyed and excitedly open to the whole spectrum of possibilities out there in the world”
- PITCHFORK (8.3 out of 10)

“Amid the carousel chimes, tin-pan Tropicália and corroded dub, Alegranza leaps manically from one beaming influence to another, constantly shifting guises, knitting a comfortable coastal paradise. Reminiscent of Panda Bear’s pursuits on the Portuguese coast with Person Pitch, Pablo Díaz-Reixa’s debut outing was recorded off the lapping Catalunyan shores and manages to provide the same intoxicating carnival-esque procession for all to marvel at.”
- DROWNED IN SOUND (8 out of 10)

“The work of one talented Pablo Díaz-Reixa, Alegranza (which translates as ‘Joy’), is an amalgam of musical influences ranging from Benga (Kenyan traditional music) to Bhangra (Indian folk), Brazilian and Indie sounds. At once familiar and completely new, this layered record is a timeless piece of pop.”
-3RRR ALBUM OF WEEK

“Alegranza is a love-in of space-age proportions from this Spanish newbie, serving up a psychedelic pot of Afrobeat, dub, Tropicalia, rhythm ‘n blues and more”
- 2SER FEATURE CD

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ABOUT EL GUINCHO

El Guincho is Pablo Díaz-Reixa, born in the Canary Islands and now based in Barcelona. Pablo went to music school as a kid but then left at the age of 14 to become a soccer or tennis star. Fortunately, he failed at both! After some nomadic experiencies around Europe, he arrived in Barcelona at age twenty, started a hip hop project called Los Feriantes, played drums in the freestyle jam band Dead Man on Campus and finally formed Coconot with his cousin on guitar.

As Coconot he released “Novo Tropicalismo Errado” in February 2006 as a result of two years of non-stop listening to Tropicália and Kraut-Rock records. After a year of touring with the band, he came up with the idea of El Guincho and recorded Alegranza to much acclaim of the media and the fans.

It was released in the last days of December 2007, went out of print in Spain in less than a month and topped the lists of the most important Spanish music magazines. His popularity is rising to heady heights all around the world with a cult status thanks to constant blog posts and word of mouth. Mistletone Records has given Alegranza its first release outside Spain.

Alegranza is a mix of afro-beat percussion, calypso harmonies, psych tropicália, world music samplers, doo wop, trance repetition, underwater pop, steel drums and island feeling plus club oriented song structures, uptempo beats and exotica production.

From The Age newspaper:

pablo
Canary Islands mining
El Guincho sidesteps debate by channelling the sounds of his youth, writes Dan Rule.

IT’S as if the indie kids finally gave dad’s long-neglected copy of Graceland a spin or three. The past 18 months have seen African music emerge as the indie coterie’s reference point of choice, resulting in a heady brew of fantastically lively records, critical acclaim and equally boisterous accusations of cultural appropriation.

But with his mind-boggling Afro, Calypso and Tropicalia-flavoured debut Alegranza!, Barcelona artist Pablo Diaz-Reixa or “El Guincho” has conveniently sidestepped much of the debate.

It’s with good reason. Born and raised in the Canary Islands, a Spanish colony off the coast of north-west Africa, the affable 24-year-old’s frenetic, multi-accented take on dance music isn’t some exotic flight of fancy. The record is a traversal of his roots.

“I don’t think many people realise this but 30% or 40% of the record is made with beats from the Canary Islands,” he says in his sticky Spanish accent. “People might call it Afrobeat or whatever but the vibe of this record is definitely from the Canary Islands.”As he goes on to explain, Canary Islands’ music spans three continents, each of which finds a place on Alegranza!
“The rhythm is really African, like this three-bar-four tribal thing, which comes directly from the coast of Africa,” he says. “But the harmonies come from South America and Spain and have this guitar, which is just a really Spanish thing.”
Yet, growing up in the sub-tropical climes of the North Atlantic archipelago, local musical fare was far from the front of mind. Despite classical training, courtesy of his grandmother, Diaz-Reixa’s interests turned towards sports. As an early teen he quit music with ambitions to become a tennis and soccer star.“When you’re like 12 or 13 or something, you just want to impress the girls and have fun, you know?” he says. “Playing soccer or tennis or water sports seemed like a much better idea.” But it wouldn’t last.At 18 he left the Canary Islands to travel through Europe, settling in Barcelona in 2003 where he returned to music and began exploring hip-hop and Detroit techno. It was something of a creative reawakening for the young musician. After starting a hip-hop group, he moved on to playing drums in a jam band.Eventually, he hooked up with a cousin to form Tropicalia-intoned kraut-rock outfit Coconut, applying his classical percussion training to guitar melodies, samples and otherwise electronically produced tracks.

It was a watershed.

Diaz-Reixa began mining the various local music of Hawaii, Madagascar, and Trinidad and Tobago, which led him to the sounds of his homeland. Suffice to say, he felt an instant connection and El Guincho was the result.

“It’s funny, I used to really hate Canary Islands music as a kid. To me, it was like old man’s folk music, you know, old guys with huge beards playing guitars and percussion and whatever,” he giggles.

“It’s funny how living in a different city and travelling to all these different places can open your mind to your own home.”

Alegranza! echoes with such sentiments, pitching percussion and tumbling rhythm against a collage of tropical psyche-funk samples, uplifting melodies and pulsing vocal chants. It’s club music with an organic and ethnographic twist, as potently danceable and accessible as it is proudly locative.

But he says it’s the El Guincho show that we should look out for.

“You know, I’d never really seen a video of myself until my friend filmed me at South by Southwest this year,” he says.

“To tell you the truth, it was just really freaky. It’s like I play the sampler and the keyboard with my left hand and then with my right hand the floor tom and a piece of wood. Then I have all these triggers on everything, so all the electronic and the acoustic stuff gets mixed.

“Oh, then I sing, too,” he chuckles. “It all makes me look kind of weird, you know. It’s like, ‘Wow!’ “

From Beat magazine:
el guincho

El Guincho

by Chris Girdler

If you’re enticed by the idea of an ‘amazonic rave’, than look no further than Pablo Díaz-Reixa and his trusty block of wood. World music has recently been cropping up as a key influence in a wide range of independent music, from MIA to The Ruby Suns, but never has the genre been embraced, deconstructed and delivered with such fervour as it has with the twisted tropicalia of the El Guincho album.
Alegranza (translates as ‘joy’) ticked the fancy of Pitchfork and a wide array of music blogs, and now has its first release outside of Spain through Mistletone Records. Pablo was born in the Canary Islands, but he now calls Barcelona home.
“I shifted from the Canary Islands, because I realised that life there wasn’t very exciting in terms of music,” says Díaz-Reixa. “I wanted a change in my life. I was 19, looking for some excitement. I really feel at home here in Barcelona now.”
Although he didn’t collaborate or join a band until he settled in Barcelona, music has always been at the forefront of Pablo’s life, despite aspirations to become a sports star in his early teens. “My grandmother is a music teacher, I studied percussion and harmony at school. I was into music but I hadn’t played in a band until I moved to Barcelona. I was just playing around with keyboards and samplers in my bedroom. The main thing I was excited about was hip hop. I really wanted to study musicology and my main idea was to compare island music from around the world. I started buying records and finding stuff on the internet.”
Once in Barcelona, Pablo became active on the music scene, from forming the hip hop project Los Feriantes to drumming in freestyle band Dead Man on Campus, to Coconut, with his cousin on guitar. He came up with the concept of El Guincho while on tour with Coconut. I asked Pablo how these different genres influenced and led to the distinctive El Guincho sound.
“Looking at my biography, it looks like I went from hip hop to a jam band to Coconut to this, but El Guincho has been going for all my life. It started in my bedroom when I was a teenager, and sometimes I use the El Guincho alias, sometimes I use other aliases. So it was just something really natural for me and the final album came together in hardly any time at all.”
Where do you source all the elements that make up one of your songs? And where do you go from there? “Mostly they’re made up from old vinyl and cassettes I picked up in different cities. I found the sounds were really diverse and often almost accidental. Different sounds from all around the world, like island music, which was a lot of what I sampled. Piecing it together was basically intuition, taking the samples and layering them, at first with the drum parts, which I did in the studio over two days.”When you first listen to the album, the songs sound deceptively simple. But there’s a lot going on in there. I asked if he takes a sample and work from there, or if he has a general idea of the track before integrating samples and loops? “I never start with a loop. You owe a lot to that first loop and have to build everything from that, which just isn’t interesting for me. So I like to start with really little pieces of stuff and using a drum machine, really try to think about the rhythm. I’ll try to build the loop after that.”There have been comparisons of Alegranzo! to the Person Pitch album by Panda Bear. Although the Panda Bear album is more of an insular experience than the unremitting ‘party time’ feel of Alegranzo!, they do share similarities, such as their integration of world music and the innovative sense of rhythm used to piece the samples together and subtly create layers of sound. “I was really interested in the BBC sessions that Animal Collective did, where they were playing around with samples of tornadoes. When the Panda Bear album came out, I was like ‘Wow, this is really great’, but I never thought people would compare the two albums. It felt weird to me, but I’m honoured because they’re a great band.”El Guincho is now bringing his live show to Australia for the first time. As well as some solo shows, he is providing support for Architecture in Helsinki – he also recently remixed their song Like It Or Not. The wildly genre-bending music of El Guincho is likely to appeal to a wide range of music-lovers: indie kids, bat-lovers enticed by trance-like repetitive loops and people who just want to get down. As Dan Deacon’s recent shows proved, you don’t need accompanying musicians, distractions or pyrotechnics to put on a solo show. Prepare yourself for a one-man party.“For the live show, in my left hand I play the sampler like a keyboard and deconstruct all the loops, and in my right hand I play all the percussion, and then I sing. I don’t often stop between songs so it’s almost set up like a DJ set, quite dance-oriented. It’s usually like a party, almost quite tribal. For me this is primarily a pop album, but it’s also a dance album.”From Inpress:

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From Three D World:

El Guincho - Spanish Harmony

Written by Jane Stabler
Friday, 02 May 2008
el-guincho.jpgLots of things trigger thoughts of holidays; the sun, piña coladas, the smell of coconut oil…and the sounds of El Guincho.Spanish artist El Guincho has created a sound that is best described as pop, tropical and club – essentially a medley of happy harmonies and clattering loops that sound like little else you are likely to have encountered in auditory escapades. So if you are yet to familiarise yourself with his musical genius, the best way to do so is with a lathering of fake tan and a drink you can put an umbrella in.El Guincho himself admits that his tropical disco sound is fairly unusual when compared with other dance styles, although he says he didn’t deliberately set out to make music that put him in a league, and a genre, all of his own.“I was writing this album in my bedroom,” he explains, “and I came up with the sampler and from YouTube and I was playing vinyl so it was random. It was naïve, I didn’t really have any plan, I was in my bedroom! I don’t know [how to describe my music]. Maybe dance music [is the term] they relate to, but I don’t know, it’s like pop music.”However you want to describe it, a lot of people are finding El Guincho’s infectious musical style hits the right chords. One of the key attributes that sets this Spanish musician’s sound apart from so many other dance offerings is his ability to successfully blend a lot of musical styles. Having dreamed of working with music his whole life, it makes sense that he has learned how to combine the styles that he loves to create his own blend of music.“My dream was to study musicology, so I was really into finding good music and understanding it,” he explains. “I was interested in the music of the islands of the world, like Cuba, and I tried to select music from different islands of the world and I found that most of them, when I happened to mix it, the sound worked really well together, so it gave me that idea, the rhythm sounds so different but the harmony carries the vibe.”The island theme is certainly inescapable when you tune into El Guincho’s tracks, and as a result his sound is often like the auditory equivalent of being on a tropical island holiday. Although he does take a lot of influence from tropical sounds, El Guincho still insists that he’s just creating the music that he likes and there’s no real reason behind it other than that.

“When people say your music sounds like this or that, I don’t really know,” he considers. “There’s some really dark songs because of the lyrics, but the major scales makes people think of happy music and I’m really happy that people get good feelings from it when they listen to my music, but it wasn’t my main goal because I hadn’t any main goal.”

Three Thousand review:

Recent outbreaks of Internet-slaves playing bongos, all hyphy “like Fela” reeks of moneyed putrefaction - at best reminding of C. Thomas Howell’s character in Soul Man, who overdoses on tanning pills in an effort to ‘get down’ with his college basketball team. It’s imperative Alegranza - the debut record from Barcelona’s Pablo Diaz-Reix, aka El Guincho -is not confused with this vapid trend. Newly released in Australia by Mistletone, it’s a genuinely breezy party record that transcends so many re-upped, hackneyed remakes of Tropicalia and Afro-beat’s rhythmic glee.

Every track is a basket of cheers packed with steel drums, sunny instrumental samples and Pablo’s ecstatic chanting in Spanish. Openers ‘Palmitos Park’ and ‘Antillas’ have the jungle-fun feel of The Lion King minus the naff (miraculously), and when, in ‘Fata Morgana’ a rare sample in English declares, “All of the joy of young people in love is conveyed in this delightful and simple melody”, it’s entirely justified. The issue isn’t authenticity - all of Alegranza is sampled anyway - it’s integrity and unforced fun, and El Guincho has it as much as Deelite did, or Kid Creole and the Coconuts.

By Mark Gomes

From Vice magazine:

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Pitchfork review (8.3 out of 10):

“The impressive and probably unwittingly fashionable source material– Afrobeat, dub, Tropicália, and early rock’n'roll– and the irresistibility of these songs can only briefly obscure the fact that no one else is really making music quite like this… This is music for children, in the best sense — wide-eyed and excitedly open to the whole spectrum of possibilities out there in the world”

Drowned In Sound review (8 out of 10):

“Amid the carousel chimes, tin-pan Tropicália and corroded dub, Alegranza leaps manically from one beaming influence to another, constantly shifting guises, knitting a comfortable coastal paradise. Reminiscent of Panda Bear’s pursuits on the Portuguese coast with Person Pitch, Pablo Díaz-Reixa’s debut outing was recorded off the lapping Catalunyan shores and manages to provide the same intoxicating carnival-esque procession for all to marvel at.”

3RRR Album Of The Week:

“The work of one talented Pablo Díaz-Reixa, Alegranza (which translates as ‘Joy’), is an amalgam of musical influences ranging from Benga (Kenyan traditional music) to Bhangra (Indian folk), Brazilian and Indie sounds. At once familiar and completely new, this layered record is a timeless piece of pop.”

The Vine review:


In Nick Hornby’s novel High Fidelity – and the 2000 film version of the same – the terminally crotchety Rob Gordon (John Cusack in the film) has a despised neighbour in his flat. The much-hated Ian wears his hair long and, what’s worse, listens to loads of world music. This odd resentment captured something of the grungy times.

And yet, and yet – not ten years later, large swathes of the alternative-leaning music scene are in love with the polyglot M.I.A., enamoured by Brazilians CSS and Bonde de Role, sipping tea to the Tropicalia collection, doing the dishes to the African blues and rock of Tinariwen and Konono No 1, reading McSweeneys to Diplo and dancing to Filastine and DJ Rupture. “World music,” a condescending term at the best of times, is less of a millstone these days.

El Guincho’s Alegranza! is a veritable encapsulation of all this, a whirlwind tour of global sounds, cut-pasted-and-spliced into a smiling set of percussive concoctions. It’s equal parts of so many things, it sounds quite like nothing else – other than perhaps the spirit of the very-best-intentioned globalisation. Afro-beat. Calypso. Trance. Blues. Rock. Dance. Laughter. Call it the result of spending your formative years on the Canary Islands in Spain, but El Guincho (aka Pablo Diaz-Reixa) carries joy and celebration at its heart. Vocal rounds layer and tag each other, ascending and descending spiral staircases. Drums pulse and throb with an unending sense of nocturnal release. It’s like listening to the most tasteful Haiwaiian shirt you’ve ever seen. It’s like putting on board shorts and boarding a mystery flight. It’s like staring at a rack of postcards. It’s like building a sandcastle for the first time. It’s like smelling coconut oil and tucking cocktail umbrellas behind your ears.

Ben Gook

Spark Online review:

Alegranza is an album remarkable in its ability to simultaneously invite and dismiss comparison. El Guincho is Pablo Diaz-Reixa and he’s managed to sample half a planet worth of music without it coalescing into a lazy homogeneity. His beats oscillate with wild abandon and yet the album feels tightly sprung, like a jack-in-the-box that’s been teasingly wound up. Born in the Canary Islands and now based in Barcelona, El Guincho kicks off Alegranza with a track that slams doowop honey up against salt-water-summer vocals and backs it up with a track that plucks itself out of the dancehalls of Sub-Saharan Africa. It’s effervescent, glorious, lollipop music.

Carl Nilsson-Polias

October 27, 2007

Mistletonia

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MP3: New Grace by High Places

MP3: This IS The Beat by John Maus

Mistletone brings you glad tidings this festive season with a collection of 13 new and exclusive songs inspired by the yuletide spirit.

Mistletonia features Australian artists Barrage, Ned Collette, Kes Band, Pikelet, Francis Plagne, Jack Ladder, Ross McLennan and Grand Salvo featuring Oliver Mann, plus international guests Evangelicals (Oklahoma, US), John Maus (Minnesota, US), High Places (Brooklyn, US), The Sticks (Brighton, UK) and Hands On Heads (London, UK).

Christmas is Mistletone’s favourite time of year but it ain’t so rosy for the rest of the animal kingdom, so profits from Mistletonia will be donated to a local animal shelter.

Mistletonia Track Listing:

Evangelicals, The Last Christmas On Earth 4:10
Barrage, Xmas in July 3:12
John Maus, This IS The Beat 2:29
High Places, New Grace 2:12
Ned Collette Band, Christmas Song 4:14
The Sticks, Santa’s Fucked 2:10
Kes Band, Gentle Elf 5:12
Pikelet, Let the Tree Be 2:40
Francis Plagne, Krampus with Scale by the Moon 2:32
Grand Salvo featuring Oliver Mann, I Sometimes Wish 2:16
Ross McLennan, He Seems To Think We’re His Family 3:36
Hands On Heads, Witches & Lightning 2:44
Jack Ladder, All You Get’s a Song 3:52

josh

Evangelicals

barrage

Barrage

maus

John Maus

HIGH

High Places

ned

Ned Collette Band

sticks

The Sticks

kes

Kes Band

pikelet

Pikelet

FRANCIS

Francis Plagne

grand salvo

Grand Salvo

ross

Ross McLennan

hands on heads
Hands On Heads

jack ladder

Jack Ladder

REVIEWS OF MISTLETONIA 

CMJ review:
By Eric Davidson

Right or wrong, we’ve all come to expect something familiar from these annual Christmas compilations. Either square old standards, Phil Spector soaring, punk piss takes, indie rock noodling or non-ironic standards redux, when you put on an Xmas comp of any ilk, you kind of know what you’re getting into. So the enigmatic nature of this Australian label’s holiday collection—which can be ordered here in the States via their website—gets points for being unpredictable in a most predictable genre. Mistletonia begins with soon-to-be buzz band Evangelicals on the best song of the comp. “The Last Christmas On Earth” is a spacey sleigh ride up to outer space as the reindeer hoof-gaze with the guitars while pilot-to-NASA sound bites stumble in, making it a perfect statement about fleeting warm ‘n’ fuzzy Christmas feelings that this comp is probably aiming for. Then “Xmas In July” is nifty, skritzy futuro-pop, though not about Christmas really. As the record goes on, it paints a pretty post-modernist post-mortem picture of the holidays at best. John Maus’ “This Is The Beat” is a goofy, lite-industrial ’80s clunker. High Places and the Ned Collette Band’s tunes go ’80s too, with Bananarama-ready, island rhythm candy pop. It takes until the seventh tune to get to a wintry-mood piece (”Gentle Elf”), albeit not a very good one.

But sift through the yellow snow and you’ll find chestnuts like the clomping sludge-abilly instrumental, “Santa’s Fucked,” that feels like a spiked egg-nog walk through Santa’s workshop around 4 a.m on Xmas Eve, well before the elves cleaned up the discarded deformed doll heads. Pikelet’s “Let The Tree Be” is a spooky siren song, like Perry Como’s lobotomized back-up gals trying to find their way back to whatever white-bread holiday variety show they drifted away from. And Ross McLennan’s “He Seems To Think We’re His Family” is a sullen, strumming tale about a lonely soul on the big day, lamenting that “the teenagers have outgrown Santa’s sleigh,” not unlike most of the artists on Mistletonia. This might be the most non-Christmasy Christmas comp you’ll come across this year. But maybe it’s time for some new yuletide templates.

Beat review:

Christmas is like the only time of year where you are encouraged to fit another piece of pie in, so for pie lovers it’s a hoot, yet for many of God’s creatures, Christmas is pure hell. Turkeys run gobbling for their lives as buckshot fills the air. The immeasurably sad sit on suicide hotlines until the queues become unbearable – they throw themselves out the window. In the CBD, escaped lunatics man the suits at Roger David, much to the chagrin of paying customers who would prefer to get fitted correctly. Dads get tangled up in old faerie lights with the wiring exposed just as their kids come running into the lounge carrying egg nog. “Don’t run in the house!” yells Dad. Too late. The kids hit a carpet snag and the egg-nog goes all over Dad who then explodes into a fountain of sparks. Meanwhile, all over town, the radio regurgitates Jingle Bells for the 122nd time.

Perhaps in response to Christmas hell, the fine folk and tastemakers at Mistletone have created a remedy, a utopia of merriment, zest and appeal, ample good cheer, tailored fits and supreme kissability. It’s called Mistletonia. To celebrate, they’ve assembled a starry ensemble of diverse acts on CD, beginning with the Evangelicals, who take Rudolph the Red-Nosed Radiohead out with their sweeping yuletide quadrophonics (The Last Christmas on Earth). Barrage comes next flexing his deceptively tiny arms for some Dark Star big-beat (XMAS in July). John Maus busts out some hilarious, symphonic rock that sounds like a joyously funny meeting between Ariel Pink and Wendy Carlos (This is the Beat). High Places bring bass-heavy, clattering exotica reminiscent of The Blow (New Grace). Local Tarzan Ned Collette evokes a jungle Christmas via Jethro Tull (Christmas Song), while Kes cutely enlightens a Gentle Elf to the teachings of Aztec lore. Pikelet talks to Christmas trees in her dreamy way (Let the Tree Be) and that astonishing anachronism Oliver Mann sings a heavy tune backed by his bro (I Sometimes Wish). The relentlessly melodic Hands On Heads’ pinch a Killers’ vocal hook while pondering Witches and Lightning, and in an example of pop that presses all the right buttons, Ross McLennan sings He Seems To Think We’re His Family and I swear its power of compression rivals poetry. Mistletonia, memorise it, analyse it, exercise it, advertise it, legalise it, colonise it, civilise it, yeah.

Shane Moritz

Three Thousand review:

Just as Christmas crystallizes forever as a crushing, final symbol of avarice and greed, along comes Mistletonia - a sundry new collection of yuletide songs instigated by the ever-surprising Mistletone Records. After an astounding year for the Carlton-based indie, during which they released the likes of Black Dice, Panda Bear and Dan Deacon locally, the label has seen fit to celebrate, releasing the album they ‘were always meant to make’ in a genuine spirit of family festivity and merry-making. Like Scrooge’s series of transformative visions, these thirteen songs’ honest sense of generosity will leave you feeling cheerful, benevolent and ready to meet the parents.

Thankfully, Mistletonia sounds both pro- and anti-Christmas by turns. Tomorrow’s best gothic pop proponent, John Maus (USA), offers a hyper-tense keyboard sleigh-chase soundtrack, and Brighton, UK’s guitar weirdos The Sticks make drunken outbursts at the end of Christmas lunch. Closer to home, Ned Collette Band’s inspired cover of Jethro Tull’s ‘Christmas Song’ subtley warns against festive gluttony with breezy lap steel and a wry, vocodered lyric, while Kes presents a clear-eyed glimpse of proceedings with jaunty, self-reflexive wonderment.

By Mark Gomes

Pitchfork Media track review:

“December is almost here, so we’re going to roll with some more Christmas tunes today. The excellent Australian label Mistletone (they released Beach House, Black Dice, Dan Deacon, and Panda Bear down under this year, so you have to give it up) has just issued a holiday-themed compilation called Mistletonia, which includes this candy-striped confection from Brooklyn-based dream-poppers High Places. A sort of dubbed-out half-cover of “Iko Iko”, the song talks about enduring months of crushing gloom, though the music is much more cheerful. According to the label, all profits from the sale of the record will be donated to an animal shelter.”

More Pitchfork love for the Evangelicals track:

The apocalypse is a popular choice this holiday season. We already posted soft, light Southern California popsters the Softlightes‘ cheery “Last Christmas on Earth“, but Evangelicals’ song of almost the same name sounds a bit more like its title. The Norman, Okla., indie rockers opt for endlessly reverberating, blockbuster-climax bombast on their “The Last Christmas on Earth”, which you can download on the band’s MySpace page or pick up on Australian label Mistletone’s holiday-themed Mistletonia compilation.

Evangelicals sound more Arcade Fire than Christian Coalition, more Jeff Buckley than Mike Huckabee, when songwriter Josh Jones’s vibrato-filled tenor calls out to the rafters for Jesus. “You can hear the lovers crying in the street,” Jones sings, as a deeper voice harmonizes, bringing to mind that gravelly-voiced muse of Buckley and so many others, Leonard Cohen. The humming feedback and cavernous percussion help avoid the usual Christmas carol production clichés; I think there are some jingle bells in there, yeah, but there’s also a helicopter sound at the end. Much more of this holiday doom ‘n’ gloom and I’ll start stressing about Dec. 25 the way some people worried about Y2K. (Pitchfork Media Dec 6, 2007)

mX newspaper review:

mx

October 27, 2007

Ross McLennan

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MP3: Teenage Wish (from Sympathy for the New World)

MP3: He Seems To Think We’re His Family (from Mistletonia)

Ross McLennan on Myspace

Upcoming Ross McLennan shows:

Sunday August 24, 6.30pm
Writer’s Retreat with Ross McLennan + Lisa Miller + Ned Collette
The Retreat Hotel, 280 Sydney Road, Brunswick.

An intimate show in the “songwriters in the round” format.
Tickets $15 at the door. No supports so come early to get a table.

Tuesday October 21, 9pm
Melbourne Internatonal Arts Festival: Beck’s Bar @ Meat Market

The Ross McLennan Sympathy Orchestra spectacular!
Tickets $27 from Ticketmaster.


“There is genius among us” - MUSIC AUSTRALIA GUIDE

“Ross McLennan excels with this stream of musical consciousness, forging a new strain of languid psychedelia from off-kilter strings and spidery guitars, all spilling harmonic colours outside the lines” - THE AGE A2

“Sheer unadulterated godhead genius. A melancholy psych/folk masterpiece.” - RHYTHMS MAGAZINE

“Like Beck, Brian Wilson or Lambchop’s Kurt Wagner, McLennan’s musical vision is unimpeded by predictability or tradition… As time passes, McLennan asks more of his listeners but all parties can take that as the highest compliment.”
- THE AGE EG **** four stars

“If you want an Australian album that will still be causing you glee and aural wonderment in 2050, hunt down this gem” - HERALD SUN **** four stars

“McLennan’s voice is like a lone man walking through the night with a lamp, so it doesn’t tread heavily but it does find a way to inveigle you along. This is an album in the mould of Scott Walker but with its pop heart as valuable as its head. - SYDNEY MORNING HERALD

“A sweeping vision… one of the finest local albums this year” - DRUM MEDIA

“Sounding alternately like The Beach Boys, Lambchop, or fellow weirdo songsmiths Richard Davies or Cass McCombs, SYMPATHY is an album that’s mellow and meandering, yet dark and thoughtful” - TWO THOUSAND

“Whispered vocals and noir-ish psychedelia, like a collaboration between Lambchop and the Flaming Lips” - WHO WEEKLY

“A fresh and fascinating grandiose pop gem” - TIME OFF **** four stars

“With Sympathy For The New World McLennan announces himself once and for all as one of the few truly original pop songwriters in the country, and trust me, you’ll be hard pressed to hear a better album all year.” - BEAT

“A bit of a masterpiece, frankly”
- MESS + NOISE

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Mistletone is proud to release Sympathy for the New World, the new album from Melbourne’s home recording pop pundit, Ross McLennan.

This stunning new record charts Ross’s dizzying artistic progress following his post-Snout solo debut Hits From The Brittle Building, and will delight his many fans as well as turning a new generation of listeners on to his twisted pop precocity.

Written and recorded entirely in his home studio in the quietude of an inner-north Melbourne suburb, Sympathy for the New World is an accomplished production. A dozen finely crafted songs open up labyrinthine worlds of meaning, association and possibilities with every listen. Ross’s quizzical and playful lyrical and melodic smarts place him firmly in the league of other such idiosyncratic musical brains as Todd Rundgren, Kurt Wagner (Lambchop), or Stephen Malkmus - another artist who has arguably done more weighty and intriguing work after breaking up his band and retreating to his home studio.

The sophisticated production values and rich orchestration add dark soul textures and grandiose alt-rock flourishes to Ross’s sometimes witty, sometimes melancholic songs. Amongst the special guest appearances, Rebecca Barnard contributes ghostly vocals on the majestic closer, Welcome To World’s Fair, and a rousing choir of illustrious dozens from the Melbourne music community can be heard on the symphonic Sceptre Glove.

Sneakily spectacular, introspectively epic and inevitably classic, Sympathy For The New World is a must-hear.

From The Age: Subterranean songwriting blues

Read the full article here

Beyond the din of popular music, the chimes of artistic freedom can be heard. Michael Dwyer meets some of those putting meaning to melody.

No matter which way you read it, Bob Dylan’s honorary Pulitzer Prize of April just didn’t scan. To those long hip to his revolution, it was a lame apology for a sustained and deliberate insult from the American literary establishment.

Besides, what do songwriters have to do with that world any more? It’s 40-odd years since Allen Ginsberg drew fleeting academic attention to Eleanor Rigby and Subterranean Homesick Blues. Popular song has long since resumed its lowly status in the public imagination, a village idiot to the educated society of art and literature.

That perception is based, of course, on the overwhelming audibility of the lowest common denominator. Where is the legacy Bruce Springsteen identified when he inducted Dylan into the Rock’n'Roll Hall of Fame 20 years ago? “Bob freed the mind,” he said, “the way Elvis freed the body.”

Gone to ground, is the short answer. The genie Dylan let loose can never be rebottled but, from an industry viewpoint, it’s obvious that the body remains the more attractive dancing partner. Art is ballast for music tragics while cheaply synthesised froth rises ever more thickly to the top of the charts.

If there is a silver lining to the global freefall in CD sales, it’s the palpable ascendancy of this kind of thinking in a new generation of independent musicians. Cheap home-recording facilities, the new MySpace democracy and fading prospects for mass-market penetration are redrawing aspirations at a grassroots level.

It’s not likely to be a rebirth of Forster’s “golden age of songwriting”, in which the inner monologues of Dylan, Lennon, Morrison and their ilk briefly intersected with the appetites of the commercial mainstream. But the collapsing pop market may slowly clear the air for less calculated, more individualistic voices to be heard.Melbourne auteur Ross McLennan (no relation to Grant) hasn’t been anywhere near the ARIA Top 100 with his latest home-recorded opus, Sympathy For the New World, though it has been lavishly praised by critics. Comparisons to unstable pop geniuses Scott Walker and Brian Wilson are apt: there is a kind of madness in McLennan’s motivation and process.“I guess it quietens my brain down,” he says. “I start off angry and confused and upset about something and when I come out the other side, when I have one of those moments that I consider magic, when I’ve nailed exactly what I wanted to say, even if it doesn’t make sense, I’m very happy and relaxed at the end of it.”His new album’s impressionistic theme is of a world unhinged by fear, dogma, greed and other seeds of destruction. Welcome to World’s Fair is its dramatic culmination. Its rolling rhymes and half-spoken, free-metre form recall Beat poetry, one of his recurring influences.

a solitary soul surveys the paucity of potential suitors
pushes past her fellow commuters
looks around and sits down
next to the guy with the brown tie
and the laptop computer
the heavily coutured strain under the weight of their creations
their postures wear the gravity of their special situations
and the doors groan open for the latecomers
come one, come all comers
take a seat, welcome
you are all frontrunners

The trip winds on, morphing into a metaphor for social hierarchy and aspiration, until haves and have-nots reach their mutual destination in the fire of a terrorist’s bomb. Only in the indescribable shock of the explosion does the song spiral out of literal narrative into what McLennan calls “magical thinking”.

the 8.15 rounds the corner past the everyday people
suddenly swirling up around the synagogues, minarets and steeples
a traditional lament that travels by world’s fair
encoded in its resonant machinery
cats’ whiskers and leg hairs laid flat like the scenery
and it tolls as it tears flesh and sprung fit panels
it tolls as you scan the shortwave channels
it’s kept burning in trapped flame
a crucifix filament
its pealing hand is dealing to the guilty and the innocent
and people forget that people are born
people forget

Again, meaning and emotion soar beyond the realm of poetry. Lugubrious horns play the desolate traffic, sliding strings infer the slow outward pull of camera perspective. Rebecca Barnard’s husky chorus vocal is the broken mother’s plea while the narrator’s tone mirrors the short journey from boredom to confusion, disbelief and devastation.

Speaking about his influences, McLennan mentions novelist/philosophers Kurt Vonnegut and Albert Camus before John Lennon and Ray Davies, but “Dylan’s always there,” he says. “I remember reading . . . about the madness he went through when he was writing Chimes of Freedom. I feel a sympathy for that type of mind.”

It’s that type of mind, rather than anything you can notate, record and take to the bank, that defines Dylan’s legacy among his golden-age peers and countless subterranean acolytes. Maybe it’s neither pop nor poetry they’re writing but something with no practical use for a shelf label at all. It was only ever popular by default, after all, when the auteurs of the ’60s briefly took control of the vehicle and leapt the rails of teenage heartbreak and euphoria to cruise the labyrinth of imagination.

The often-asked question of whatever happened to the great songwriting visionaries is easily answered. They were simply sidelined by an industry with no time for mind games and a greed for instant gratification. Who can even wonder why pop idols are now fine-tuned on TV by expert panels and SMS voters? Commerce demands vast committees that overrule all but the most obvious keynotes of heartbreak and euphoria in songs we already know by heart. These are the tunes that play best in the mall.

“We’re not making wallpaper for people,” says Ross McLennan. “When people go shopping they want wallpaper. That sounds misanthropic; I don’t mean to be. Maybe it’s just rare these days to find intelligent people wanting to pursue pop music as their favourite thing.”

One suspects it will take more than one Pulitzer Prize to change that, but at least the chimes of freedom are still tolling out there for those with a mind to listen.

From Rhythms magazine:

rhythms

Inpress live review (Sand Pebbles launch):

Arriving onstage in trademark fashion, alone with his acoustic guitar, local pop visionary Ross McLennan politely introduced himself to the audience before kicking off another one of his lessons into the deconstruction of contemporary music. Accompanied tonight by his brilliant, stripped down four piece backing band, it would be difficult to argue against the observation that McLennan is currently in career-defining form. Tracks from both his superb albums, Hits From The Brittle Building and this year’s sublime Sympathy For The New World, were performed with precision and swagger.

Inpress (live review):

inpress

From Beat magazine:

Ross McLennan
by Brett Collingwood
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“I knew right from the start that these weren’t going to be a happy bunch of songs,” Ross McLennan remarks dryly, considering his new album Sympathy For The New World, his second solo release following a ten-year tenure as the frontman for highly regarded Melbourne beat-popsters Snout.He’s not kidding – in stark contrast to the upbeat, ’60s-inspired pop of his previous record Hits From The Brittle Building, Sympathy For The New World exudes an otherworldly, four-in-the-morning ambience with hints of desperation and paranoia just below the surface, a feeling underscored by McLennan’s surreal, often apocalyptic lyric imagery. Yet for all its apparent darkness, the experience of listening to the album is ultimately uplifting thanks to the sheer boldness of McLennan’s vision.Augmented by strings, horns, and, on the ghostly Sceptre Glove, a large choir comprised of other Melbourne musos, the songs on the album seem to follow their own peculiar logic, often stretching past the five-minute mark. These aren’t your typical verse-chorus-verse pop ditties, folks, but McLennan is too canny a writer to not imbue his dark, unwieldy creations with a sure melodic sensibility. It’s just that he’s created something so distinctive it’s almost impossible to pick out any obvious musical reference points.“I felt like I freed myself up this time to do whatever I wanted,” he says. “I sort of had this sense of, ‘who gives a shit?’. I was approaching 40 when I started it, and I didn’t know what to expect from a marketing and industry point of view, so I just thought ‘I’ll just do whatever I want’.”McLennan’s goal from the start was to create an album that sustained a mood, both musically and lyrically, from beginning to end. Given that he wrote, played, recorded and produced the vast majority of the album at home by himself, this was no easy task; hence the record’s protracted, four-year gestation.“The most stressful aspect of making the album, not just with the sounds but also with the lyrics, was that I wanted there to be some kind of resonant thread through the whole thing. It’s been difficult to maintain; I think it’s kept me in a weird headspace for a number of years that I could argue I didn’t necessarily need to be in. But at the same time if you spend three or four years doing something, you’ve definitely got some issues to work out!”Lyrically the album deals with big ideas and topical themes – broadly, how the world is going to hell and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it. But McLennan’s lyric style – chains of bizarre images and surreal wordplay – tends to tease out his themes cumulatively rather than resorting to here’s-a-song-about… literality: “See her eyes / Sad and dilute as she passes the chorus / Mumbling in the wings / See her eyes / Her plasticised torso is slivered in sections / By the automatic doors” (Helpless Gods).“Well that seems to be the only way that I write decent lyrics,” McLennan muses. “I’ve tried doing narrative stuff but most of my processes are outside those strictures so I’m not going to do a good job if I do it that way. As nebulous as the songwriting is, there’s still a kind of accuracy in it; you’re reducing something down to an essence.”McLennan is the first to admit that being responsible for almost every note, word and sound on the album often made it hard to remain objective. “I’ve had, at least in the early stages, a lot less second opinions than normal; I was really quite isolated for this one. It’s been really hard. But holding the whole thing together was that I knew what I wanted to do, and I’ve kind of gone for broke.“Perhaps if I’d been able to wear the hat of just someone appraising it, I might have done things differently. I guess in the past those appraisals would have been made in the context of the marketplace, and I might have made an album with more drums on it and less meandering shit! So it’s strange that it’s yielded this homogenous thing, but it has, and I guess it’s a testament to just doing your own thing.”From the Herald Sun:Rock City by Mikey Cahill
heraldFrom Wireless Bollinger e-zine: Ross McLennan