Chimpomatic

Monotonix

Where Were You When It Happened?

Drag City

Sometime last year I went to see Silver Jews play in the intimate surroundings of London's ULU. On entering I couldn't help but notice the crowd congregating avidly round some sort of commotion occurring in the middle of the venue. The stage was clear so it couldn't be the band, but what was the source of the deafening noise that was pounding through my very soul? In order to get a better view I took up position on the balcony and to my surprise I saw, at the very heart of this scene, three sweaty, bare chested beasts who were masquerading as humans. The drummer pounded a very scant looking drum kit to death while the guy making most of the noise shrieked so violently into his contorted fist you'd think he was about to swallow it. As if that wasn't enough, in a sudden burst of reserved superhuman energy, they picked up the drum kit and ran out of the hall, mid song. While everyone looked around puzzled, they emerged on our balcony still playing the drums and still maintaining the howl. Anyway, to cut a long story short they ended up hanging from the balcony, drums in hand and played out the rest of the song, legs dangling, throat straining and most certainly crowd gawping. It was without a doubt the most exhilarating gig performance but to be honest I couldn't tell you much about the music, this was secondary. But with this, their first full length, the music speaks for itself and is impossible to overlook.

Their 2008 EP Body Language unleashed a short, sharp glimpse of what this band had been doing all round their hometown of Tel Aviv since 2005. Channelling the raw energy of bands like the Stooges but with the muscle of Black Sabbath, their sound was as uncontrollable as an unmanned, gushing fire hose. Where Were You is no different but seems to benefit from slightly denser production. Yonatan Gat's riffs loom large and often chug with meaty forcefulness over Ran Shimoni's erratic drumming. The star of the live experience is clearly front man Ami Shalev and I suppose one difference here is that he manages to fit in quite comfortably around his music and doesn't overpower the brute force that surrounds him. This makes the record gel in a much more coherent way and ultimately packs a better punch.

Things seem to have been considered more here. The rawness dominates every part of this, but not in an uncontrollable way. It has all the unpredictable energy of the live show, but keeps its eyes focused on the plan and churns out some mighty examples of old school rock filth. Set Me Free is the best example of this and is one of the only songs that allows space for the listener - opening with a sparse rhythm that is slowly joined by grinding guitars. The song takes its time and changes pace throughout the duration showing off an element that wasn't part of their earlier repertoire. Of course this is all obliterated on Spit It On Your Face and the musical hose pipe gives over to the spasms once again. Having been banned from most of the venues in Tel Aviv we can only hope that this scuzz dripping rock circus will spend more time on our shores. But this time it wont be just the live antics that dazzle.

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1st Sep 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Magic Markers

Balf Quarry

Drag City

Continuing on nicely from the swirling shit puddle that 2007's Boss left us in, Elisa Ambrogio and Pete Nolan dish out the next installment. As you'd expect form this duo, Balf Quarry is an awkward dose of sonic psychosis that has the ability to soak into you like freezing drizzle or square up for a some more direct combat. Like crack cocaine, it isn't pleasant but it's addictive.

With minimal input they manage to erect these insurmountable walls of noise that shake with tempting vulnerability but stand proud with a strength that is baffling. And cutting through all this is Ambrogio's voice. It can tick by in monotone simplicity like on 7/23 or it can howl like a possessed Karen O on Jerks. The whole thing creeks with lo fi charm as homemade surfaces are used to coax out minimal tapping beats, guitars swirl and cry with little sense or order. Like Ambrogio's vocals the texture can, from track to track, recede deep into the distance creating ghostly chills that blow around her isolated voice or instantly swell to fill the room and envelope the vocals like a merciless storm. With Scott Colburn at the helm whose production credits include Animal Collective this light and dark noise texture becomes the crooked wire coat hanger on which this record hangs it's success. With such bare bones for a framework the melody that is stretched over as some sort of skin can sometimes thin out to near collapse but it's always in view and with the exception of The Ricercar Of Dr. Clara Haber it remains the thread on which much of this is tied. There's a lot of this about at the moment so it's important to recognise the honest shit puddles when you step in one, and this is just the ticket.

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5th May 2009 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Silver Jews

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

Drag City

It's been over two and a half years since David Berman last flung open the doors to his much coveted mental closet of worldly wisdom and on that occasion he left us with tales of "a place past the blues I never want to see again," and threatening to take "a hammer to it all." A rare tour accompanied the release of Tanglewood Numbers but then the doors were fastened shut once more and the world was lonely again. With these terminal words left ringing in our ears what were we to expect from the followup to Tanglewood's dark vista?

Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea sees a few returning members for a tried and tested Silver Jews line up in the form of Tony Crow, Brian Kotzur and the twin-ax attack of Peyton Pinkerton (Natural Bridge) and William Tyler (Bright Flight) who all join Berman and wife Cassie who, as usual, provides warmth and texture to much of the background space. In tone and content it's a fascinating addition to the puzzle that Berman has been relentlessly and stubbornly crafting since this band's conception in 1989. It stands alone from any other Jews album in terms of its relationship with the world and provides us with a valuable insight into this artist's shift in consciousness. And a shift is exactly what Lookout Mountain marks but, as might be expected with Berman, it's not the shift one would expect. Berman's opinions, beliefs, outlooks and observations remain firmly the same and provide the linking trail back to the other records, but it's Berman's viewpoint on these things that has changed. The world according to the Silver Jews has always been described through its minutiae, in all its tragic detail, but there is a sense of resolution in these songs that breathes new life into their whispering lungs. Instead of bitterness or anger there is a newfound tenderness for our culture but instead of emerging as celebration this tenderness brings with it feelings of pity. Berman's resolution acknowledges this pity and where his previous albums would leave it there, Lookout Mountain strives for a sense of warning. Where previous albums posed questions, this sixth addition provides the answers.

"What was not but could have been, was my obsession way back when./ Now I just remember this, what is not but could be if." And so this seismic shift is seen in full glory in the first verse of the opening song. The statement of lack remains in place but the gaze is turned forward to the future and a new feeling of hope is introduced. With the economic delivery of a Japanese Haiku poem, Berman relays his wisdom with mono-syllabic accuracy in this opener and with it a multi-faceted, new vernacular is born. But this look to the future is no unconditional march into greener pastures. Berman's new hope is full of lament for the past. The future as seen in Suffering Jukebox has no place for the past that Berman once belonged to. It tells of this sad machine in a "happy town, over in the corner breaking down." Could this machine be Berman himself, trying to impart a wisdom to a world that is happy enough without it? Or it could it be a comment on music's place in our society too preoccupied with the "cult of number one"? After-all, the jukebox, though neglected, is "all filled up with what other people need." Is this money or music itself?

This is echoed on Strange Victory, Strange Defeat when Berman talks of all the "handsome grandsons in these rock band magasines," and asks "what have they done with the fat ones, the bald and the goateed?" This song revisits a songwriting method that is well tested. Berman has a unique ability to describe man's follies by way of the absurd and often using animals, be it a "kitten from Great Britain" or as seen here, "Squirrels imported from Conneticut, just in time for fall." This song tells of a squirrel uprising against what Berman calls "a nightmare world of craven mediocrity." With wife, Cassie in assistance the squirrels call out "We're coming out of the black patch! / We're coming out of the pocket! / We're calling into question / such virtues gone to seed!" This is a reference to an Emerson quote in which he describes Fashion as a "Virtue gone to seed." So Berman is mounting an uprising against this new culture of seeming victories that ultimately end in "strange defeats." It's a culture that promises to be a lot more fun but as Berman asks, "how much fun is a lot more fun? / Not much fun at all."

Lookout Mountain also sees Berman assume a new style of writing in the form of a greater reliance on narrative. The first person shifts to the third with his observations being played out by a myriad of protagonists in far fetched and highly entertaining stories. This is seen most notable in the centerpiece of the record San Francisco B.C. It tells the story of a failed relationship that leads to all sorts of drama including Mafioso QVC operators, jewelry heists and murder mystery. It's one of the first time Berman's expert turn-of-phrase has been put to such a use and you hang on his every word for gems like "he came at me with some fist cuisine." It's the best brawl description since "a can of whoop-ass." With slightly less success and complete with seagull noises, Party Barge employs the same grasp of narrative and together they seem to allow Berman an added freedom that he had only ever enjoyed by putting animals in human situations. The characters are never that far removed from Berman himself and almost represent different facets of his complex character.

The record ends in a way no other has done before and in this ending the great Silver Jews shift is complete. We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing is a love song first of all, but a love song that only Berman could have written. In lines like "We could belong to each other / If you're not seeing anyone," we see Berman's ability to juxtapose the ultimate with the intimate, destiny with monotony. But it also sets up a love story from the point of view of two people at a later and more resourceful stage in their lives where they haven't so much downgraded their hope, but have become more realistic in their search for destiny. With this in mind, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is Berman accepting the faults of this existence but seeming more comfortable with their existence. In tone and content this record acts as a removal from the bad in society while still acknowledging that it exists for other people. It almost represents a truth that someone can emerge the other side and still be intact. In this respect it's a triumphant record but in a very realistic way. At just over half an hour it is more compact or concise. It comes from a less fragile place than his previous writings and displays this artist's unique and all too rare respect and appreciation for language. If society is indeed seen and experienced through the critical eyes of our artists then Berman is an essential addition.

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28th May 2008 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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Bill Callahan

Woke On A Whaleheart

Drag City

Enough praise has been showered on Joanna Newsome in these hallowed pages over the past year or so that it's only fair to give her other half a word or two - if only to avoid any awkward moments round the Newsome/Callahan dinner table. After a long and prosperous relationship with Drag City, Woke On A Whaleheart sees Callahan emerge from the (Smog) and release this little gem under his own name. Though all the trappings of a (Smog) record are present here the name thing isn't the only change that's occurred since 2005's A River Aint Too Much To Love. Callahan's deadpan delivery and startlingly simple poetry have always been the driving force behind his music. Like a tree in the depths of winter Callahan's music has always stood proudly firm in it's stark nakedness and this is where it's beauty lay but as special as this may be it's great to see a new spring time creep into this sound and with Woke On A Whaleheart the tree is starting to bloom.

This analogy seems a fitting one as much of Callahan's lyrics are to do with nature. The opening track continues the river theme where the previous album left off. From The Rivers To The Ocean is the gentlest of openers with deep piano chords and soaring strings. First single Diamond Dancer is more rhythmical while Sycamore is pure bliss. It's a beautiful piece of work with Callahan's baritone musings tunefully weighting down the delicate finger picking that floats effortlessly around this song. Callahan is also joined by some gospel infused backing vocals that feature frequently on this album giving the whole thing some subtle religious undertones. The Wheel continues the country traditions honored by Callahan in the past as does Day with it's rolling saloon piano structure.

The whole extravaganza is brought to a close with a marvelous slow builder that sees Callahan sounding like a modern-day Johnny Cash. It rumbles along slowly picking up instruments and layers along the way until they all come together for the repeated chorus, " A man needs a woman or a man to be a man." It's a glorious end to this album and shows the old Smog tree in full bloom like never before. The inclusion of backing vocals and layers of instruments to accompany the lonely yet warm vocals and guitar have provided much meat to these bones and though it by no means discredits the work that has gone before it signals a welcome new dawn for this avant-garde mystery man.

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9th Jul 2007 - Add Comment - Tweet

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Joanna Newsom

Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band E.P.

Drag City

Last year I incurred some major flack for rewarding Joanna Newsom a flawless 5/5 for her remarkable second album Ys. Well I still stand by that decision and am tempted to give this 3 track EP the same accolade but feel it might alienate me from my fellow chimps who are yet to discover the magic of this artist. So call it peer pressure but I will not be giving this release full marks and I am not proud of my actions because it is yet another astounding piece of work by the young harpist.

This contains one new song and two old ones. All are without the orchestra that dominated Ys and are played live with her touring band. This totally changes the songs and gives them a much more folky sound. The new song Colleen is as joyous as any Irish jig you're likely to hear and conceptually could have played quite happily on Ys. The reworking of The Milk Eyed Mender's Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie gives this song new depths by adding accompanying vocals by drummer Neil Morgan and it leads on to the stripped down version of Ys' Cosmia. This version is so impressive as it shows a drastic progression from the original sound in this short period. Using guitars and banjos this song is stripped of all it's orchestral grandeur and the result is just as moving. It has been almost doubled in length and the final half is a beautiful instrumental of harp and guitar which fades out to a whisper bringing this brief delight to a sublime close.

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8th May 2007 - 4 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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The Fucking Champs

VI

Drag City

Believe it or not, there are downsides to being a Chimpomatic reviewer. The parties, premieres and indecent proposals all pale into significance when deadline day looms and the Alpha Males at Chimp HQ start bearing teeth. To stay in favour, it is necessary to listen to albums at inappropriate times and locations. For example; The Fucking Champs. As you may have guessed, they don’t do subtle. They don’t do singers either.  I guess they believe that singers are for pussies and most definitely not for Fucking Champs.  Besides, who needs words when you have a couple of Jock electric guitars beating the shit out of all-comers like a Double Dragon Tag-team (ably assisted by their sidekick Powerdrummerdude).

Yes, there is a time and a place for the Champs and it’s not on a crowded commuter train at 8.30 in the morning (professional courtesy prevents me from playing anything under maximum volume) or at 11.30am whilst trying to see off a particular enthusiastic hangover. No. The Fucking Champs are most definitely a band for the night before - this is music for movie double acts: Bill and Ted. Wayne and Garth. For all the dudes that like to R.O.F’ing.K!

I feel bad about rating this; like the old codger telling those darned kids to turn the party down AGAIN. But those leading chimps are showing signs of chest-beating with all these recent stars flying round and it is pretty one-dimensional (unless you count the Brian May-esque guitar duet of Abide with Me as another dimension) with its (party) Time and (ice cold and refreshing) Place.

But hey. Ratings are probably for pussies too. The Fucking Champs are here to take over the world, so you might as well shotgun a brewski and join ‘em.

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8th Apr 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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Ghost

In Stormy Nights

Ghost first came to my attention as the backing band for ex-Galaxie 500 maestros Damon & Naomi, on their timeless album "With Ghost". To this day it's an a permanent favourite, with the soft folk sounds creating a gentle, complex base for the soaring, beautiful vocals.

In Stormy Nights sees the band release their ninth album through Drag City, and Masaki Batoh leads his rotating band of followers though a varied, eclectic range of songs and styles, drawing from a diverse range of musical styles.

The opening sounds of Motherly Bluster were exactly what I was expecting, with Batoh's thick Japanese accent presiding over a textured layer of sounds and acoustic guitar. However, second track Hemicyclic Anthelion is a 28 minute marathon of experimentation that unfortunately drifts along without much focus or direction. Akin to hanging around in a late night Tokyo tube station, I rarely find myself in a situation or mood to listen to it. As a result it disrupts the flow of the album, which without it only clocks in at 5 songs / 30 minutes.

Things bang back into action with the military stomp of Water Door Yellow Gate, sounding like a Japanese Nick Cave poisoned poem. Gareki No Toshi segues on from this, with distorted shouts and sound effects sounding like a Fugazi rehearsal session (the opening of Birthday Pony is actually the track I'm thinking of - for you Fugazi heads).

Most comparable to This Mortal Coil, Ghost has much of the same eclectic feel, with strange successes (such as the rambling bagpipes on Caledonia) and unfortunate failings. Moody soundscapes and soundtracks are often misplaced, and seem at odds with each other - rather than sounding like a cohesive body of work by one artist. While the final track Grisaille brings hints of the captivating acid-folk charm that I heard on Damon & Naomi with Ghost, for the most part those moments are unfortunately often drowned out.

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10th Feb 2007 - 1 comments - Add Comment - Tweet

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