Category: Reviews

Review: Kalbells – Max Heart

Max Heart, the new album by Kalbells, is lovely synth-pop created by four ladies who have a love of grooving and jamming. Led by Kalmia Traver, the band started as a solo project for her but she and her touring bandmates bonded so tight that they became a regular thing and started creating funky psych-synth tunes that seem effortless. The band (Angelica Bess, Zoe Becher, Sarah Pedinotti, and Traver) have often spoken about this Zen-like state of locking into each other’s energy and letting thins naturally occur. Much of Max Heart is centered around love – finding it, embracing it, losing it, and rediscovering it – and the Zen mantra of “Let go or be dragged.”

“Red Marker” begins with spacey lounge vocal stylings as Traver tells us to “kiss her inner bouncy ball.” and that she’s “in her element although the skies are getting darker.” “Flute Windows Open in the Rain” is a peppy tale about Traver finding happiness in self-isolation and moving forward after a break-up. The warped bass and sexy groove of “Purplepink” make it a standout on the album. It’s great for rainy late night drives, making out, or even dancing around in your kitchen while making backed macaroni.

The simple beats of “Poppy Tree” blend well with the space-age airport hangar keyboards throughout it. Besides having a fun title, “Hump the Beach,” also has sexy French vocals, bubbling synths, and even a weird horn section piece. “Pickles” is full of double entendres, especially when guest rapper Miss Eaves unloads some fun lyrics on it. The beats on “Bubbles” sound like a sped-up ping-pong game played underwater in a dream in which you’re also playing hide and seek with a lovely woman who might be a mermaid. It’ll make sense once you hear it, trust me.

The electro beats on “Big Lake” sizzle like water flicked into a hot skillet. “I woke up with a fish tank in my hips,” Traver sings on “Diagram of Me Sleeping.” It’s a witty, weird, and sensual lyric that puts into mind the joke of Groucho Marx watching a femme fatale walk away from him with her hips swaying, and then Groucho turning to the camera and saying, “That reminds me, I need to get my watch fixed.” The saxophone solo on the track is a nice touch, too. The title track closes the album with a joyful sway, keyboards that sound like giddy birds, a jazzy piano solo, and fat synth-bass.

It’s a fun record, and a much-needed uplifting album as we (here in the U.S., at least) emerge from winter and isolation to embrace the sun and, hopefully, the beginning of a return to human interaction.

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Cody at Clandestine PR.]

Review: Holy Monitor – Southern Lights

Hailing from Athens, Greece, Holy Monitor (Alex Bolpasis – bass, Dimitris Doumouliakas – drums, Stefanos Mitsis – guitar, Vangelis Mitsis – keyboards, and George Nikas – vocals and guitar) combines psych-rock, kraut rock, stoner rock, space rock, and even ambient music on their new album Southern Lights.

Opening track “River” has fuzzy guitars, psychedelic organ chords, and heavy drums telling a lovely tale of the night sky reflected in moving waters. “Naked in the Rain” has a great 1960s garage-psych groove to it as Holy Monitor calls for us to “shine on” through tough times.

“Blue Whale” is a tale of a mystical creature or woman (perhaps one and the same) that exists in the mind of Nikas. The title track lays on the reverb, both on the guitars and the vocals, creating a hypnotizing brew. “The Sky Is Falling Down” seems to be a reaction to a large portion of the world going for each other’s throats in the middle of a pandemic (“It sounds like madness, but I know you’re feeling lonely. It sounds like madness, but we’re falling in a state of slumber.”). The song starts chaotic, then drifts into a neat dream-space before it fades out…and then rockets forth again with some of Doumouliakas’ biggest cymbal crashes and Vangelis Mitsis’ heaviest synth-stabs.

“Hourglass” is a nice, synth-based, instrumental palate cleanser before the heavy psych of “Ocean Trail” (with Stefanos Mitsis and Nikas upping the fuzz on their guitars even more). The album ends with another water-themed track, “Under the Sea.” It’s a nice slice of cosmic rock that, like “The Sky Is Falling Down,” talks about the COVID-19 pandemic, but with hope instead of concern. “One summer night, a stranger approached me, like people did before they got sick. He touched my hand and told me his story. I always had a curiosity,” Nikas sings. We all dream of returning to times when we could at least have the chance to engage in a meaningful conversation with a stranger.

We all dream of drifting away and leaving COVID-19 behind us, and albums like Southern Lights make the waiting easier.

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Stratos Psilos.]

Rewind Review: MF DOOM – MM…FOOD (2004)

More than just a collection of rap tunes about food, MF DOOM‘s MM…FOOD is a masterclass in hip hop, songwriting, beat mixing, and villainy.

The opening track alone, “Beef Rap,” uses samples to tell us the album will be comfort for our bodies and minds. It’s true. DOOM tells us it’s about the beats, not him, but his lyrics are so smooth and stunning that you can’t ignore him. You want to analyze everything he says because it’s coming out with references to cartoons, strippers, lesser MCs, kung fu, and, of course, food. The beat boxing on “Hoe Cakes” is outstanding, and DOOM tells tales of picking up chicks and then cutting out like D.B. Cooper.

Count Bass D. joins DOOM on “Potholderz,” which is pretty much about what you think it is as the duo name check O.J. Simpson and talk about being so high they forget they didn’t light the joint they’ve been trying to smoke. “One Beer” stumbles around with drunken beats but DOOM’s vocals are as deft as a circus acrobat’s. “Deep Fried Frenz” tackles sycophants, backstabbers, and gold-diggers while DOOM looks for true friends. “Jealousy the number one killer among black folk,” he warns.

“Poo-Putt Platter” is chock-full of weird cartoon samples rearranged into a weird mix that melts into the equally strange (and delightful) “Fillet-O-Rapper” and “Gumbo” – both of which have so many samples you can’t keep track of them all. One of the most clever uses is DOOM rearranging samples from cooking show hosts talking about wraps.

“Fig Leaf Bi-Carbonate” emerges from these three tracks like a massive ray gun rising out of a supervillain’s volcano hideout. The sample from a Fantastic Four cartoon telling the origin story of Dr. Doom is uncannily close to DOOM’s story, which, of course, is the reason he chose it. “Kon Karne” combines jazz beats with video game sounds and DOOM mentioning Sally Struthers and the Tower of Pisa in the same breath.

The groove on “Guinnesses” is downright slick, almost making you slide across your kitchen floor if you hear it while doing the dishes or, better yet, making dinner. Angelika and 4Ize add some killer lyrics (Angelika on the verses, 4Ize on the choruses) about how some relationships are like battles that often are best not chosen. “Kon Queso” has a cool bass lick running through it as synth stabs bounce behind DOOM’s nimble wordplay, which is available “to freaks and to pencil-necked geeks.”

Mr. Fantastic joins DOOM on “Rapp Snitch Knishes” – another song about fake friends (who in this case spread gossip or worse). “Vomitspit” cuts and loops a cool lounge track while DOOM reminisces about how he used to lose his game when a woman called him “Daddy” and how being a masked villain isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. “Kookies” might have the best bass line on the album, because it’s like a deadly sidekick to DOOM’s verbal gymnastics. You’ll lose track of how many references DOOM makes to cookies and uses them to refer to other things. It’s this kind of wordplay that made DOOM your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper.

MF DOOM left us far too soon, but at least he left masterpieces like this for us to obsess over for years to come. His master plan was fulfilled. He became a world ruler and then for mystic pursuits.

Keep your mind open.

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Rewind Review: King Geedorah – Take Me to Your Leader (2016)

Part of the legend and greatness of the late MF DOOM was that you never knew what he was going to do next. On the 2016 album Take Me to Your Leader, he took on another secret identity – King Geedorah, who himself was MF DOOM taken over by aliens bent on taking over the Earth. It’s a wild concept record filled with DOOM’s stunning rhymes and cool kaiju film samples helping tell / yell the story.

The first words on Take Me to Your Leader are “Follow the light, the light is your guide.” on “Fazer.” DOOM is fully possessed by the Planet X aliens and threatening to spit electricity (which is already does through his jaw-dropping rap skills) and to make “razors out of beer cans.” The loops and beats of “Fastlane” almost sound warped. The X-aliens brag about their control of DOOM and his friends on “Krazy World.”

“The Final Hour” takes a great sample from Hall & Oates‘ “I Can’t Go for That” and slows it down to the point where it’s almost unrecognizable. “Monster Zero” is another name for King Geedorah, and it’s also a great trip-hop tune with many great samples from Japanese monster films. “Next Levels” brings back hip hop rhymes atop an acid jazz beat.

“Geedorah has arrived, you guys can take five,” Geedorah / DOOM says on “No Snakes Alive.” DOOM’S pace moves back and forth from methodical to frenzied on the track. DOOM and Mr. Fantastic team up for a smooth track on “Anti-Matter.” Bonus points to you if you get the joke / reference in that partnership. The title track is a bit of a weird dream with plenty of samples of hysterical laughter and that Hall & Oates sample chopped up and restructured one more time.

“Lockjaw” goes back so fast that you barely have time to breathe, let alone catch all the tricky rhymes in it. “I Wonder,” with guest star Hassan Chop, has a cool, cinematic string section loop throughout it and takes on a philosophical tone as Chop wonders why he got dealt such a bad hand in life. The funky “One Smart Nigger” tackles how white culture loves to co-opt black culture and often not admit to doing it or, worse, claiming it was all their idea to start.

“Render unto Geedorah what is Geedorah’s,” DOOM says at the beginning of the last track, “The Fine Print.” That line takes on even more significance after hearing the track before it. The beats mix funky horns, video game sounds, beatboxing, and electro-drums to strut around like a three-headed dragon from outer space across the city of your choice.

The album ends with someone tells us the future of the planet is at stake, and DOOM is the one to deliver the message. He delivered many throughout his too-brief life. I haven’t mentioned a lot of the amazing wordplay on Take Me to Your Leader because, like any DOOM record, there’s so much that you don’t know where to start.

Keep your mind open.

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Review: Sun Crow – Quest for Oblivion

Hailing from the often gloomy, rain-soaked lands of Seattle, Washington, Sun Crow (Keith Hastreiter – drums, Ben Nechanicky – guitars, Brian Steel – bass, and Charles Wilson – vocals) are another one of those bands I stumbled upon via YouTube’s algorithm when it guided me toward their new album Quest for Oblivion. For a while I kept misremembering their name as “Skull Crow” or “Crow Skull,” which I’m sure are names of other cosmic / stoner / doom metal bands somewhere. Sun Crow’s name, however, brings to mind images of a fiercely intelligent, perhaps malevolent creature silhouetted by the sun at dusk, noon, or dawn – and unsettling no matter the time of day.

You’d better be ready to deliver if you name your album Quest for Oblivion, and Sun Crow are more than prepared. The shortest track on the album is just under five minutes in length. Half are over ten minutes each, and all of them are epic, monolithic power drives. Good grief, the opening track, “Collapse,” is like the sound of the namesake giant insect breaking free from its icy tomb in The Deadly Mantis and then proceeded to wreck everything in its path. “Black It Out” has Wilson’s vocals bouncing off high fortress walls while Steel’s bass launching fireballs at invading armies.

“End Over End” seems to stumble around like a sleepy mastodon for a couple moments as it shakes the frost off its wool and prepares to enter into combat with a giant squid that’s preying upon smaller creatures on the edge of a dark lake. Trust me, you’ll understand when you hear it. “Fell Across the Sky” is a powerful tale of some sort of cosmic event, perhaps the one that wiped out the mammoths, and Nechanicky’s guitar has a cool fuzzed reverb throughout it that’s outstanding. Wilson’s screams on “Fear” are pure metal, and Sun Crow wisely blends them with the guitars and Hastreiter’s fire giant heartbeat drumming so neither element overwhelms another.

“Nothing Behind” has a rocking, stomp the pedal to the metal groove. It’s practically made for drag racing. “Hypersonic” starts with shredding cacophony and then melds into a solid, head-banging groove for over nine minutes with some of Wilson’s clearest lyrics about the eventual end of man and the emergence of some…other thing nipping at our heels from the shadows. The closer, “Titans,” is as heavy and powerful as its namesake, and drifts into a great low-key section to lull you into a sense of foreboding before it comes at you like the Kraken rising out of the sea.

This is heavy stuff, but that’s what you want from an album called Quest for Oblivion. You’d be disappointed if it didn’t sound like something you’d play in your starship as you landed on a primordial sphere in deep space.

Keep your mind open.

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Review: Blanck Mass – In Ferneaux

I’m not sure calling Blanck Mass‘ new record, In Ferneaux, an “album” is correct. It’s only two tracks (“Phase I” and “Phase II”), which makes it seem like an A-side and B-side single, but each is about twenty minutes long. So, is it an EP? EP’s rarely cover as much ground as In Ferneaux, so that doesn’t seem right either. It’s more of a soundscape than an album, a strange journey instead of a musical experience.

In Ferneaux is a “soundscape journey.” Yeah, I think that works.

The record is a collection of live “in the field” recordings of ambient sounds, bits of conversation, city cacophony, psychedelic musings, and, of course, Blanck Mass / Benjamin Power‘s signature shimmering synths and beats that often surprise you no matter how far away you hear them coming.

“Phase I” alone blends all of these elements in just the first five minutes. It almost sounds like it could be a sci-fi movie theme or the theme to the next World Cup tournament, and then it becomes something like a robotic dream from Philip K. Dick’s mind. It drifts into drone, and at one point seems to have the sounds of a boat bumping against a dock and futuristic bacon made from grub worms sizzling in a skillet. Bird and / or whale song floats into the track, as do the sounds of busy streets, children talking, and possibly distant video game noises.

“Phase II” starts us off in the middle of some kind of dystopian future nightmare thought up by an android with a migraine headache, but then it dissolves into a recording of a conversation Powers had with a street preacher saying things like, “It’s hard to handle the bitch-ass misery…Be ye transformed by the renewal of your mind…” and other gems of knowledge about giving and receiving blessings. The man’s words are brought to the front and then are replaced with bright, ambient synths and white noise to cleanse your mental palate. Those sounds grow into a wild swarm of cybernetic wasps hovering treacherously close. Weird chants / screams and tribal drums emerge, throwing you into either a panic or an intrigued hush. The track, and the album, ends with more sounds of water, and Powers’ lament that a passing truck is ruining his recording.

Again, a record like this is hard to classify, but that’s part of the point. It doesn’t need classification. It simply is. All of us simply are, but most of us fail to realize this liberating truth. In Ferneaux has Powers coming out of the metaphorical fire of 2020 with a deeper appreciation of the simple things around him. We could all use some time in that purifying heat.

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Patrick at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Brijean – Feelings

Dreamy, sexy, danceable, and, yes, fun, Brijean‘s new album, Feelings, will give you plenty of feels – all of them good.

“Day dreaming about you. I’m falling, it’s true (for you),” Ms. Brijean sings on the opening track – “Day Dreaming,” a lovely electro-pop track that blends dance percussion and Bossa nova vocals. “Softened Thoughts” mixes video game sounds and thick bass to create a somewhat trippy effect. “Pepe” is a short and sweet track full of bright bells and bubbly synths.

“Wifi Beach” is an instant house music classic with cool retro synths and hot percussion. The title track is full of electro-bubbles that tickle your whole body. “Ocean” takes us to a tropical jazz lounge where the local DJ is playing stuff he found at a 1960’s Bossa nova record mogul’s estate sale. “Paradise” adds some groovy psychedelia to Feelings, and it’s a welcome addition to the album’s color palate.

“Lathered in Gold” is not only a lush, exotic track, but it’s also a good way to describe Brijean‘s sound. Everything has an exotic feel to it, and this song sounds like it emanates from a Tiki bar in Brazilian spy movie set in 1962. “Chester” is another short but sweet bridge between songs and leads into “Hey Boy,” which is going to be a massive hit at dance clubs once they’re open again (hopefully) this summer. The album closes with the thumping and bumping (and humping?) “Moody” – a flirtatious, groovy track that sends us off with a nice afterglow.

This will easily be one of the best make-out albums of 2021, let alone one of the best dance records and lounge records. It works on all levels.

Keep your mind open.

[I daydream about you subscribing.]

[Thanks to Jim at Pitch Perfect PR.]

Review: Bantha Rider – Binary Sunset Massacre

I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Star Wars-themed stoner / cosmic metal is a thing. I don’t know how much of a thing it is, but apparently it’s a thing in Warsaw, Poland – home of Bantha Rider. The name lets you know that the members envision themselves as Tusken Raiders on the desolate desert wastes of Tattooine. Their newest album, Binary Sunset Massacre, is as fierce as the album’s cover and subjects appear.

The title track is a brief instrumental introduction (the album is entirely instrumentals) that unleashes the power of “De Wanna Wanga” (a phrase known to Star Wars: Return of the Jedi fans) like a horde of charging Sand People attacking a surprised Storm Trooper outpost near the Sarlac pit. The bass alone on “The Gammorean” (the horned “boar-men” of Star Wars) hits as heavy as an axe sharpened on the bones of its enemies.

The guitar solo on “Boonta Eve” is positively cosmic, and the song starts with what sounds like spacecraft revving up for travel. “Sagittarius” is also pure cosmic rock. “Rancor’s Delight” starts with sounds of the massive beast’s footfalls and roar before it erupts into heavy, heavy riffs that channel the sense of dread Luke Skywalker felt upon being dropped into a pit containing the monster.

I love the way the bass and drums seem to stumble around a bit at the beginning of “March of the Banthas.” Banthas are huge, horned, furry beasts who take their time across the desert, and the song takes its time with chugging riffs and hefty beats. The album ends with “Pazuzu” – a psychedelic trip enshrouded in dark mystery (it is named after the Mesopotamian king of demons, after all) that lasts over thirteen head-trippy minutes.

It’s a wild ride, and enjoyable for Star Wars and stoner metal fans. It’s a win-win if you like both.

Keep your mind open.

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Review: Slift – Ummon

There are times when YouTube’s algorithms make a good call. Ummon, the latest album from Slift, is a good example for me. I kept seeing this record and live performances by the Toulouse, France cosmic rockers in lists of suggested videos. I finally gave Ummon a listen several months after it was released and was about knocked over by how damn heavy it is. The cover image of a naked man dragging a massive sword across what looks like a hot asteroid sums up the heft of this album pretty well.

The title track opens the record with guitars and drums sounding like ancient warriors taking armor off racks and strapping it on before charging over a drawbridge to repel invading ogres…on Titan. The lyrics about an army emerging from the Earth’s core (“Set the controls for the Earth’s surface. From the night we have waited. Bring the fire to your sleeping brothers.”). How much more metal can you get? “It’s Coming…” is a bright, shining epic tale of a white city in heavens that rushes to greet us. Is it a song about death? Probably, but it’s lets us know that death is a cosmic journey we will all find fascinating…and loud and crazy if the song’s end is any indication.

“Thousand Helmets of Gold” has Slift leaving the Earth for better times in space (“We’ve left this world of violence. Stars aren’t that far at all.”), propelled there by the power of rock riffs. What lies there in space? Well, according to “Citadel on a Satellite,” it’s a “calm and serene vista of wonders” where “time signifies nothing.” I can’t argue with that, or with the psychedelic guitar solo that weaves throughout the song. The way it softly drifts out and then slaps you awake with “Hyperion” is stunning. The song is about either an ancient warrior or an elder god – or both – and epic enough for either.

“Altitude Lake” is a psychedelic tale of a warrior seeking a mystic sword in a forsaken land of mist and mystery. The track moves back and forth between hypnotic jams and epic shredding. “Sonar” is a cool instrumental suitable for your next video game session or late night drag race with a UFO. “Dark Was Space, Cold Were the Stars” is a tale of death told by a groovy bass line, spacey synths, lock-tight drumming, and booster rocket guitars. “Aurore aux Confins” (“Dawn at the Edge”) is another wild, trippy instrumental that sounds like a laser refracted through a lava lamp.

“Son Dông’s Cavern” is a short, trippy affair that leads into the Oh Sees-like “Lions, Tigers and Bears,” which clocks in at thirteen minutes and eighteen seconds – and it’s worth every moment of that running time with its massive riffs, guttural vocals, and wild drums as they sing about a cosmic race of lion-pulled chariots across the cosmos to usher in a glorious age throughout the universe.

Ummon is an impressive piece of work, and one of those albums that makes you say, “How are three people putting out this much sound?” I don’t know the answer. My guess is that they tapped into some sort of cosmic energy well while meditating in a cave full of ancient crystals placed there by aliens. You’ll understand this when you hear it.

Keep your mind open.

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Review: Nick Schofield – Glass Gallery

There are many albums that convey a sense of place. Sometimes the place is an entire town or nation, other times it’s a small bedroom. Nick Schofield‘s excellent new ambient music album, Glass Gallery, conveys the energy of part of Ottawa’s National Gallery of Canada. The gallery is full of high ceilings and massive windows, creating a space full of light, air, and meditative quiet.

“Central Atrium” immediately puts you into the right headspace for the record with its warm synths and simple, relaxing chords. Listening to “Mirror Image” is like listening to a prism with light shining through it. I’m not sure I can describe it better than that. “Getty Garden” blips and bleeps like a happy robotic cat. “Water Court” seemingly drifts along without effort, and “Molinarism” sounds like the theme to a Blade Runner spin-off TV show.

“Travertine Museum” and “Snow Blue Square” are luxurious meditations. “Ambient Architect” is a good way to describe Schofield himself, as the song weaves intricate yet relaxing patterns of synth chords over and through each other. “Garden Court is a nice compliment to “Water Court.” “Kissing Wall” is as intriguing as its namesake and a perfect song for androids who want to make out, with humans or other synthetic beings. The album ends with the subtle, but no less hypnotizing, “Key of Klee.”

What makes this album even more impressive is when you consider it was made with just one synthesizer – a Sequential Circuits Prophet-600. I couldn’t make this with ten synthesizers if he, Gary Numan, and Giorgio Moroder were coaching me. It’s a lovely piece of work.

Keep your mind open.

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[Thanks to Gabriel at Clandestine Label Services.]