Long forgotten Galaxie 500.download flac
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On in the early 80's. Off for 22 years. On again, beginning with this record, in 2004. Typical Mission of Burma style characteristics (prominent bass, off-beat drum hits, controlled chaos, tape loops) but also a maturity in song-writing that only comes with age. Almost up there with Vs.

A Blue Note compilation which, when combined with its sister volume, sheds light on Monk's early and inspired work as a premier bop stylist. Accompanied by such recognizable names as Max Roach, Art Blakey, Milt Jackson, and Kenny Dorham, this is a set that will help fill out any jazz collection.
Another obvious classic that really needs no introduction, I must say that I've always loved the artwork to this record. It captures the mysteriousness of the contained music so well with its clear but rather nondescript foreground (leafless branches?) and out-of-focus background that could contain anything...





This is too atonal for me. I can send the CD to you for Christmas if you want
Gosh darn it, this may be some of the best free jazz I've ever heard. Ayler brothers Albert and Donald play tenor sax and trumpet and bounce off each other with marching melodies and chaotic improvising. Also, there's a white guy wanking on a cello and the drummer and dual bassists are nothing short of amazing. This is probably my favorite compilation of all time, and the first disc is a masterpiece (the second album is pretty close to perfection as well.)
Haven't posted shit in a while, so I return with this touchy trad jazz album. Impress your parents by listening to this essential dad jazz recording while studying for that big test tomorrow. Will post moar good free jazz when it appears in mail.
"Siege is the birth and death of hardcore punk on one record." Maybe it is, maybe it is not...


When Morrissey first emerged from the UK's New Romantic scene in the early 1980s, he and the Smiths immediately stood out from the crowd. Hitherto, he was the first lyricist to speak out for tens of thousands of disaffected, alienated adolescents, who had been waiting impatiently for such a spokesman as the flamboyant Mancunian. Unlike unbearably bleak successors Kurt Cobain and Richey Edwards, there was an occasional optimistic light at the end of the tunnel within Morrissey's lyrics.
"Meat is Murder" is full of somber, melodic tunes that cast a autobiographical light on Morrissey. The first song "The Headmaster Ritual," is a petulant diatribe aimed at the abusive faculty of St. Marys, a Catholic school he attended until he was 16. Track five, "That Joke isn't Funny Anymore," is my personal favorite; a song which Morrissey claimed in an interview was about the treatment he received by the music press. Then there's "How Soon is Now," a song that the Smiths are identified with here by most people here in the US, nothwithstanding the fact that it was never released as a single for the Smiths in the UK.
A definite must-have for any Smiths fan and a smart first-listen for those looking to get acquainted with the band's best work.






Pig Heart transplant is a project headed by Jon Kortland of Iron Lung, and a complete departure from the aforementioned band. Total fucking Swans worship with a modern spin. The album is oppressive and ugly, and is like if early Wolf Eyes starting covering Swans songs. Their band page refers them to "Ugly Colossal Sound" so you can get an idea. Even though it is reminiscent of Swans, it's its own beast and totally worth a listen.








Sup guys, newfag here. Here is some of The Fucking Champs. They get extra points towards whatever I rate them because they have the best band name.


Finally listened to Expensive Shit / He Miss Road and I liked it enough to instantly acquire more Fela from which I definitely liked Afrodisiac the most. Zombie would be great if it was only 1 track album because the rest isn't really on a par with Zombie. ALTHOUGH Mistake is good stuff, too.
Fairly good ambient/ambientan techno, made a really big impression on me first time I heard it, was best shit evar!! Not so much now but I do believe it's not bad.












The Clean are a hugely influential lo-fi/post-punk/indie pop band from New Zealand. I don't actually know how well known they are outside of New Zealand, but like the Verlaines, famous bands from other parts of the world namedrop them to be cool.



The Verlaines play fucking awesome jangle-pop indie stuff with heaps of literary references in the lyrics so you can feel smart while listening to them. Their most famous song is Death and the Maiden which you might recognise. Stephen Malkmus loved it and recorded his own cover that you can watch on youtube. Also, yeah, I think it's a reference to Schubert. Graeme Downes loves classical music.
After Henry Cow's _In Praise of Learning_, the situation in the band was getting a little divisive. Lindsay Cooper and Tom Hodgkinson wanted to compose longer instrumental pieces, while Chris Cutler and Fred Frith wanted to focus on more song-oriented music. Unfortunately, they couldn't come to an agreement so Frith, Cutler, and Dagmar Krause released their song-based material as the first Art Bears album, _Hopes and Fears_, while Hodgkinson and Cooper's work was released as the final Henry Cow album, _Western Culture_.
And let me tell you, it's fookin' brilliant. _Western Culture_ is pretty much entirely composed, with only sporadic glimpses of the band's previous affinities towards improvisation. Hodgkinson and Cooper each compose one side of the album (1 and 2, respectively -- BUT, they both wrote "1/2 the Sky"), and while they are distinctly different, it all ties together nicely because of the consistent harmonic quality and dense, tight arrangements. Best of all, this music, while very strange and complex, is also very moving and evocative, all the while deploying twisted, angular melodies, intense textural colors, dissonant harmonic language, and shifty motivic processes. This is also the most 'classical' sounding of their catalogue, probably because of the emphasis on wind instruments. Hodgkinson's pieces are gritty and atonal, complex and energetic. The organ outburst opening "Industry" takes off with Cutler's drumming unpredictably shifting accents. "The Decay of Cities" begins quite beautifully, with an unusually tuned acoustic guitar and melancholy trombone extending into catchy, danceable melodies, then strains of clattering noise split by a four-note arpeggio played on different instruments, then to scratching violin, and eventually resolving itself with the a rearrangement of the early motif. Cooper's pieces embrace Eastern European folk traditions with astute modernism, like Stravinsky, although some of the most revelatory moments bring out jazz idioms, like the percussive avant-jazz piano in "Gretel's Tale" or the chirping free saxophone over falling, dense, slowly-moving organ chords on "1/2 the Sky", which creates a very ominous sound. Cooper also provides "Look Back", a short, melancholy chamber piece for strings, woodwinds, and bass guitar, and in contrast to the album's prickly music, this is quite lyrical and beautiful (wish it was longer...). "Falling Away" is an aggressive rocker with an intricate folk melody and a churning rhythmic undercurrent. The music deconstructs in the middle, building towards its joyous apogee with its return to main melody at the end -- one of my favorite Henry Cow moments. Chris Cutler's drumming is at its finest here.
Definitely check this one out. This is Henry Cow's swansong, a tremendously rewarding album that still ranks as one of the most compositionally sophisticated 'rock' albums ever. This is one of those albums that I could listen to every day for the rest of my life and not get bored of it. It is constantly satisfying, eminently listenable and gives me a feeling like no other CD.
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The butterscotch lamps along the walls of the tight city square bled upward into the cobalt sky, which seemed as strikingly artificial and perfect as a wizard's cap. The staccato piano chords ascended repeatedly. "Black eyed angels swam at me," Yorke sang like his dying words. "There was nothing to fear, nothing to hide." The trained critical part of me marked the similarity to Coltrane's "Ole." The human part of me wept in awe.
The Italians surrounding me held their breath in communion (save for the drunken few shouting "Criep!"). Suddenly, a rise of whistles and orgasmic cries swept unfittingly through the crowd. The song, "Egyptian Song," was certainly momentous, but wasn't the response more apt for, well, "Creep?" I looked up. I thought it was fireworks. A teardrop of fire shot from space and disappeared behind the church where the syrupy River Arno crawled. Radiohead had the heavens on their side.
For further testament, Chip Chanko and I both suffered auto-debilitating accidents in the same week, in different parts of the country, while blasting "Airbag" in our respective Japanese imports. For months, I feared playing the song about car crashes in my car, just as I'd feared passing 18- wheelers after nearly being crushed by one in 1990. With good reason, I suspect Radiohead to possess incomprehensible powers. The evidence is only compounded with Kid A-- the rubber match in the band's legacy-- an album which completely obliterates how albums, and Radiohead themselves, will be considered.
Even the heralded OK Computer has been nudged down one spot in Valhalla. Kid A makes rock and roll childish. Considerations on its merits as "rock" (i.e. its radio fodder potential, its guitar riffs, and its hooks) are pointless. Comparing this to other albums is like comparing an aquarium to blue construction paper. And not because it's jazz or fusion or ambient or electronic. Classifications don't come to mind once deep inside this expansive, hypnotic world. Ransom, the philologist hero of C.S. Lewis' Out of the Silent Planet who is kidnapped and taken to another planet, initially finds his scholarship useless in his new surroundings, and just tries to survive the beautiful new world.
This is an emotional, psychological experience. Kid A sounds like a clouded brain trying to recall an alien abduction. It's the sound of a band, and its leader, losing faith in themselves, destroying themselves, and subsequently rebuilding a perfect entity. In other words, Radiohead hated being Radiohead, but ended up with the most ideal, natural Radiohead record yet.
"Everything in Its Right Place" opens like Close Encounters spaceships communicating with pipe organs. As your ears decide whether the tones are coming or going, Thom Yorke's Cuisinarted voice struggles for its tongue. "Everything," Yorke belts in uplifting sighs. The first-person mantra of "There are two colors in my head" is repeated until the line between Yorke's mind and the listener's mind is erased.
Skittering toy boxes open the album's title song, which, like the track "Idioteque," shows a heavy Warp Records influence. The vocoder lullaby lulls you deceivingly before the riotous "National Anthem." Mean, fuzzy bass shapes the spine as unnerving theremin choirs limn. Brash brass bursts from above like Terry Gilliam's animated foot. The horns swarm as Yorke screams, begs, "Turn it off!" It's the album's shrill peak, but just one of the incessant goosebumps raisers.
After the rockets exhaust, Radiohead float in their lone orbit. "How to Disappear Completely" boils down "Let Down" and "Karma Police" to their spectral essence. The string-laden ballad comes closest to bridging Yorke's lyrical sentiment to the instrumental effect. "I float down the Liffey/ I'm not here/ This isn't happening," he sings in his trademark falsetto. The strings melt and weep as the album shifts into its underwater mode. "Treefingers," an ambient soundscape similar in sound and intent to Side B of Bowie and Eno's Low, calms after the record's emotionally strenuous first half.
The primal, brooding guitar attack of "Optimistic" stomps like mating Tyrannosaurs. The lyrics seemingly taunt, "Try the best you can/ Try the best you can," before revealing the more resigned sentiment, "The best you can is good enough." For an album reportedly "lacking" in traditional Radiohead moments, this is the best summation of their former strengths. The track erodes into a light jam before morphing into "In Limbo." "I'm lost at sea," Yorke cries over clean, uneasy arpeggios. The ending flares with tractor beams as Yorke is vacuumed into nothingness. The aforementioned "Idioteque" clicks and thuds like Aphex Twin and Bjork's Homogenic, revealing brilliant new frontiers for the "band." For all the noise to this point, it's uncertain entirely who or what has created the music. There are rarely traditional arrangements in the ambiguous origin. This is part of the unique thrill of experiencing Kid A.
Pulsing organs and a stuttering snare delicately propel "Morning Bell." Yorke's breath can be heard frosting over the rainy, gray jam. Words accumulate and stick in his mouth like eye crust. "Walking walking walking walking," he mumbles while Jonny Greenwood squirts whale-chant feedback from his guitar. The closing "Motion Picture Soundtrack" brings to mind The White Album, as it somehow combines the sentiment of Lennon's LP1 closer-- the ode to his dead mother, "Julia"-- with Ringo and Paul's maudlin, yet sincere LP2 finale, "Goodnight." Pump organ and harp flutter as Yorke condones with affection, "I think you're crazy." To further emphasize your feeling at that moment and the album's overall theme, Yorke bows out with "I will see you in the next life." If you're not already there with him.
The experience and emotions tied to listening to Kid A are like witnessing the stillborn birth of a child while simultaneously having the opportunity to see her play in the afterlife on Imax. It's an album of sparking paradox. It's cacophonous yet tranquil, experimental yet familiar, foreign yet womb-like, spacious yet visceral, textured yet vaporous, awakening yet dreamlike, infinite yet 48 minutes. It will cleanse your brain of those little crustaceans of worries and inferior albums clinging inside the fold of your gray matter. The harrowing sounds hit from unseen angles and emanate with inhuman genesis. When the headphones peel off, and it occurs that six men (Nigel Godrich included) created this, it's clear that Radiohead must be the greatest band alive, if not the best since you know who. Breathing people made this record! And you can't wait to dive back in and try to prove that wrong over and over."
ALAC is basically the Apple/iPod-compatible version of FLAC. Going to be either posting stuff from now on in that format or LAME.
Eat dogshit EMI and Apple inc.

"Eric Dolphy has one foot in the compositional richness of Mingus and another in the avant-garde -- at the time, Dolphy was boldly stepping beyond tradition. So perfect are these pieces that it can be difficult to tell where composition ends and improvisation begins, and that ambiguity is part of _Out to Lunch_'s hook. Solos build out of the written arrangement and overlay the rhythms; melodically and rhythmically, this is tougher and sharper than most of the jazz I have heard so far. The playing is absolutely great.
"Hat and Beard" is a skittering, tense work. Dolphy's solo trades off with the trumpet, while furious drumming seems to dare Freddie Hubbard to become more aggressive, and he must finally concede to a quiet tintinnabulation of vibes. Here vibist Bobby Hutcherson seems to face conflict of its own as the nervous rhythm continues to exact a stretched eagerness until the main theme makes a return. Mwahaha, I like it. On "Out to Lunch", Tony Williams' playing is like an entirely new drumming language, superlatively intuitive and subtly emphasizing the perfect notes. In Dolphy's words, "Tony doesn't play time, he plays pulse." (Might not really make sense until you hear it though.) In fact, the rhythm work on this whole album is all astonishing and very easily some of the best I've heard. Players scuffle around the a repeated theme with tense solos, baiting other players and everyone takes the spotlight somewhere, occasionally at the same time. "Straight Up and Down" is a metrical labyrinth, but very swingin' with silvery melodies, achieving accessibility despite complexity. Williams and Richard Davis (bass) are very intense here. The best part is the end, where the initial theme returns with a pendent hum on the vibes -- it's almost disorienting coming out of the tricky stuff, like spinning in circles for a minute or two then stopping and being hit with dizziness. "Gazzelloni" starts with a catchy harmonious lilt then spirals into free territory that sounds more neatly arranged than it does random -- a testament to the skill of these masters. "Something Sweet, Something Tender" is a dulcet piece, mellow but rhapsodic. This one uses some deep harmonic languages to convey its feeling.
VERY sad that Eric Dolphy passed away shortly after recording _Out to Lunch_, because he probably could have gone on to some even more amazing work after this."



You have to realize Trip Hop was already in full fledge: Massive Attack and Portishead had already come out with their own thing, but DJ Shadow came with a different proposal in 1996 when he produced 'Endtroducing...'. Through the magic of samples, he blended in a way many have tried to copy, yet no one yet matched, genres such as rock, soul, funk, ambient, and jazz, into a final product that transcends time. If you need further proof of that, think how long it's been since this album came out (1996) as you are reading this, sit back, listen to it and be amazed, as so many have been amazed to this day.
After listening to 'Endtroducing...' almost daily for three weeks now, turning back and thinking of acts such as Fatboy Slim almost feels awkward, considering his sample-based 'Better Living Through Chemistry' came out almost a full year after Shadow's debut. Granted that everyone has a place in music, DJ Shadow's genius with sampling work simply is above and beyond, making this not only his breakthrough, but also one of the best albums ever.
Other favorite tracks: "Changeling", "Untitled" and the grandieuse "Mutual Slump". If you want to take a dip into an evolved form of his work, check out his side project, U.N.K.L.E., in particular 'Psyence Fiction'.
Password: haveanicelife




'Heroes' takes the listener away to an alternative world filled with chaos ("Beauty and the Beast"), desperation ("Blackout"), nostalgia ("Sons of the Silent Age") and humor ("Secret Life of Arabia"). David's voice hits startling new heights here, and he's singing as though his life depended on it. The ambient instrumental tracks range from murky ("Sense of Doubt") to soothing ("Moss Garden") to horrific ("Neukoln").
I find it almost a cathartic experience listening to 'Heroes,' for it's as if David is purging all these raw emotions out of his system and trying to make the best of a difficult situation (relevant to his circumstances during the time the album was recorded). Depending on my mood, it's not uncommon that I feel either drained or refreshed after listening to the album in one sitting.
'Heroes' evokes a whole gamut of feelings, and is a most provocative listening experience. It's a wild runaway-train of an album, by an artist who was always far ahead of his time.

Sorry bros, not the compilation. The final disc of the compilation, the songs making up the piece under the same name. The most enjoyable thing on there imo, angular no-wave/post rock kind of. 
This will be the most polarizing thing I post here. I listen to it and I get into it, fuzzed out, droney and all that, cool stuff made by cool junkie guy (he probably isn't a junkie). Then I decide to get out of the fuzzed out drones and listen to it objectively and realize that it's kind of boring and long and the guy probably isn't trying very hard. I get into it again though, and it's really good.
A concept album of sorts -- the question posed by the title isn't answered until the final line of the album (and is lol) -- Why Do They Call Me Mr. Happy?, like nearly everything else the band has released over the years, is clear and definite proof of the group's inspired, creative energy. More than once the duo hits amazing rock epic heights that have more sheer lift and charge than most anything that laid claim to the title -- about the only North American band at the time who had a similar feeling was Drive Like Jehu. Songs like The River, with a brilliant, powerful vocal matching the surging, rising riffs, and the constantly time-shifting prog/metal/punk master-stomp "Kill Everyone Now" sound like they're about to burst out of the speakers, come to life, and go off hunting and slaying..
The Joanna Newsom post a few days ago reminded me to post this. I saw Smog and Joanna Newsom play a show a few years back that was just fantastic.
"Various Failures" showcases Swans in their Old Testament folk-rock period. After the first several releases, they moved away from death-march discord into more conventional music. There's easily more wrath and despair in Swans than in any other band I've heard. Michael Gira sings of a world where human life has no value ("Was He Ever Alive?", "Failure," "The Childs Right") and the only effective diversion is devouring the weak. Jarboe is the queen of oblivion ballads ("Song for Dead Time," "When She Breathes," "I Remember Who You Are").
This album, along with 1996's "Soundtracks for The Blind," makes me wonder if there wasn't some actual possession going on; it couldn't ALL be done through vivid imagination alone. The stories are so intense, the music so skillful, and the cd packaging so inspired that "Various Failures" remains a powerful example of Swans in its middle age. Plus, Jarboe does some cool covers ("Black Eyed Dog," "Can't Find My Way Home," and "Love Will Tear Us Apart"). Do not listen to this stuff in the dark unless you're a masochist.

10 discs consisting of: Early Works, Drumming, Music for Mallet Instruments / Clapping music / Marimbas, Music for 18 Musicians (split into 14 tracks), Tehillim / Octet revision, The Desert Music, New York Counterpoint / Sextet / The Fours Sections, Different Trains / Electric Counterpoint / Three Movements, The Cave and Proverb / Nagoya Marimbas / City Life.



So, for what it's worth, I have harbored a theory for many years which consists of the following. If a capable artist is able to allow his or her work to become completely subjective that artist will touch upon something completely objective. That is to say, the artist will come to terms with something that is true to almost every human being.
If you were born in the 20th century somewhere in the western world, "Rock Bottom" will contain something important for you. Less politicized than most of Wyatt's work, (his outwardly-directed commentary here feels more sociological and personal: "I fight with the handle of my little brown broom...I pull out the wires of the telly-phone...I hurt in the head and I hurt in the aching bone...) "Rock Bottom" is musically and lyrically a work of deeply personal conviction that more than makes up for the immature indulgences of "End of an Ear". In fact, you are forced to wonder if this music would have ever existed had Wyatt not lost the use of his legs in what amounts to a needless, unfortunate accident. While the new cover does the original a bit of disservice -- things do not go swimmingly on this record -- the songs remain the same. Which is to say, the songs can be uplifting and remarkably painful all at once.
There's no reason to guess about what Wyatt came through to arrive at this point. He was an immensely gifted drummer and with "Rock Bottom" he emerges as an immensely gifted writer. I have heard no other record that is filled with such melancholy and determination and self-awareness. Each listening, no matter how many years intervene, provides the listener with a new sense of humility and gratitude. "Rock Bottom" is a singular document in music and in life. If you find yourself in need of something to believe in, try this.