13 search results for ""adventurous music""

Void Patrol is a wild experience. Colin Stetson (saxophones), Elliott Sharp (strings, electronics), Billy Martin (drums, percussion), and Payton MacDonald (keyboard, percussion) draw on their disparate experiences to create a sonic palette unlike many I’ve ever heard. Stetson’s apocalyptic saxophone playing has graced these pages many times, and Stetson is in full form here.

Yet instead of creating great heaving masses of looped saxophone notes, Stetson here can let the trio behind him do the work of creating structure. Opener “Antares” sees MacDonald, Martin, and Sharp develop a strange yet locked-in groove via drums, woozy keys, and marimba for three minutes before Stetson arrives and just wails for five straight minutes. The grumbling, rumbling discontentment of “Rigel” allows all the parts to bang up against each other to see what might happen. The ominously fluttering saxophone parts of “Sirius” call back to Stetson’s New History Warfare Vol 2: Judges, my personal favorite of Stetson’s work. Overall, these pieces have a little bit more free-jazz chaos in them than Stetson’s solo work, but the emotions and moods in both are similar. Fans of adventurous music should sign up for this adventure.

—

Brown Calvin’s d i m e n s i o n // p e r s p e c t i v e has perfect artwork. This ten-song release collects warm, woozy, detailed, ambling electronic pieces. These songs never lose their sense of melodic structure so as to become soundscapes, but rarely resolve the melodies into recognizable song structures. Instead, we get a tour of Andre Burgos’ appealing stream-of-consciousness sonic explorations. Opener “D i m e n s i o n (0-∞)” moseys on for almost 18 minutes, offering snatches of keys, blurting synths, peculiar percussion, and a goodnatured attitude throughout. Follow-on “P e r s p e c t I v e 1 1” gets a little more sound-sculptural, but never loses the hazy melodies that float above the proceedings. This is the sort of record that happens to you; you experience it. There’s a refreshing lack of pretense or structural concern here; Burgos thought of some music and played it. We get to listen in. It’s a great record.

—

The Sounds of Grassy Sound by, uh, Grassy Sound is a unique little record. Combining elements of surf-rock (“Skylark,” “Astronaut”), vintage popcraft (“Another Blue Moon,” “New Harbor Light Boogie”), and ’70s soundtracks (the spy movie montage of “Flitzer,” the walking-in-the-park vibes of “Lu Fran”), the duo of guitarist Nick Millevoi and the keyboardist Ron Stabinsky warp historical sounds into subtly new forms.

The duo doesn’t subvert these genres’ expectations as much as they play with them: the duo clearly love this type of music and wanted to make their own versions of the stuff. Making new versions of things popular in the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s in the 2020s will naturally result in some unique developments. There’s also a cover of “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” by the Meat Puppets (the only track here with vocals). Why not? The whole album is a big “Why not?” that pays off, really.

ARANANAR‘s kosti is a mysterious record. The details are not complex: ARANANAR is a collaboration between Aran Epochal (Gnu) and Anar Badalov (Metal Hearts, Travels, New Dog). They explain that the “album is a collection of odes and laments to the borderlands of the Czech Republic, shrouded in Czech mythology and symbolism.”

Truly, this 11-song, 26-minute collection is a work of art. Those odes are not traditional acoustic ones: the pieces are dusky, spartan, icy, mysterious electro pieces that work together as a unified whole. The approach to each of these songs is similar (but for one): Aran Epochal delivers the vocals in something between a whisper and a talking voice over wiry, icy synths that are bathed in reverb, delay, and other effects. The results are like looking at ’80s electro through a fractured lens. Opener “Leden (January)” is a perfect example of the style.

The most upbeat versions of this concept are the rattling beats of “Doly (Mines)” and the almost cheery arpeggiated squiggles of “Sekaná, dvě piva (Meatloaf, two beers),” while “Dnem (Through the Day)” is morose, glacially-moving post-everything reminiscent of CUTS’ grim forebodings. The majority of the tracks fall between these poles: beats, synths, bass, and vocals with lots of space, lots of atmosphere, and lots of mystery. This is a rare, unusual, intriguing release that fans of adventurous music would do well to check out.

1. “Triptrap” – Big Space. This guitar/electric bass/drums trio fuses funk, post-rock, and jazz in a vibrant, exploratory piece. It’s the best type of improv, where the lead guitarist just seems to be playing whatever comes into his mind, and the back-line knows where it will likely go anyway. An excellent performance. Highly recommended.

2. “Afterlife” – Frances Luke Accord. There’s nothing that FLA does that I don’t love. This delicate, sun-dappled folk-pop piece on a nylon-string guitar is the epitome of warm sounds. The vocals only contribute to the feel. And there’s whistling! Highly recommended.

3. “Rock, Flag, & Eagle” – Consider the Source. A wild fusion of disparate ideas into a unique and distinctive whole: there’s flamenco, prog, folk, indie rock, and other bits throughout. Highly adventurous music.

4. “Kizanka (feat. Kazuki Arai)” – Takahiro Izumikawa. Izumikawa’s lo-fi hip-hop takes a very spacey, proggy turn. Unexpected and interesting!

5. “The Road” – David M. Stowell. Spacey prog with an undercurrent of hope that draws me in. So much prog reads as unemotional noodling to me, but this has heart.

6. “Parenthesis” – cecilia::eyes. Shoegaze is usually too abrasive for me, but this cloudy haze of guitar and vocals feels more like dream-pop than shoegaze proper. Wherever you want to put it, it’s a lush, laidback cushion of sound.

7. “Island Hopping” – Monster Rally. Tropical-inflected lo-fi hip-hop that will appeal to fans of Space Age Bachelor Pad and Clams Casino.

8. “Chapel” – Andy Aquarius. The image is evocative: garbed in chainmail headgear (a la Beowulf) and equipped with harp, Aquarius seems like a time traveler from the Middle Ages. The elegant, floating piece here combines fluttering harp patterns with female melismatics and Aquarius’ relaxed voice. It’s a compelling piece.

9. “Live @ Ääniä Festival Äänekoski Finland 2021 44​:​22 – Instrumental Trip​-​Hop Journey” – Juhani Saksikäsi. A headbob-inducing longform set of grimy, punchy trip-hop. Certain moments verge of industrial (metal clanks, water drips, and motorik beats abound), but the overall vibe is one of adventure instead of grim industry.

10. “Tina’s Song (Don’t Believe)” – Matthew Solberg. A fleet indie-folk tune about regrets, spoken from a person who’s clearly still working through things in their life. The lyrics are interesting and poignant.

Cosmogony 3000 – Oppenheimer’s Elevators. Cosmogony 3000 combines the repetition of mid-century modernism, the gently reverbed approach of dream-pop, and the guitar-centric ideas of post-rock into a deeply creative, wonderfully idiosyncratic collection. The band usually builds out one main melodic idea and repeat it with variations, counterpoints, tonal shifts, and layers; this results in tunes that are fully-realized and mature in their outlook while still being exciting. “The Verb” and “Le ciel et la terre” are evocative, engaging pieces without ever going for the big move like much post-rock does. The band is confident in its work, and therefore can easily make understated pieces shine. Highly recommended.

Havana Swim Club – Havana Swim Club. This is a whole album of old-school tropicalia samples layered with beats, bass, and synths. It comes off with hazy, triumphant glory as a pitch-perfect chillwave album from when Teen Daze was new. “Peaches,” “For Blake” and “Wonder” are absolutely brilliant slices of relaxation pop. (The strings of “Wonder” set it apart as a true highlight.) “Yeah,” “1 2 3 4,” and “Jubilee” are funky neo-disco cuts (why not?). “Nature” blurs the line between homage and parody of space-age bachelor pad sounds. “Energy” blends all three of those ideas together for a truly unique experience. This is a fascinating, relaxing, immersive album.

We’re OK. But We’re Lost Anyway. – Orchestre Tout Puissant Marcel Duchamp. You’d be forgiven if you thought that the serious orchestral composition of opener “Be Patient” and the frantic, guitar-driven, shout-along post-punk of “So Many Things (To Feel Guilty About)” came from different outfits, but nope: the Orchestre is the sort of unit that just does whatever it wants. If you’re up for adventurous music that explodes all categories with pretty much every track, apply within. Highly recommended.

1 “First to the Feast” – Stagbriar. “First to the Feast” is the rare indie-rock song that makes an immediate deep impression on me. It’s a tumultuous, torrential, raw indie-rock jam about sobriety, mental health, committed relationships, and more. It’s like raw indie rock of Quiet Company but more so. Yet through it all, there remains a sense of refined polish that keeps it from collapsing in on itself. An impressive opener to their record Suppose You Grow. Highly Recommended.

2. “Erasmus” – Ellen Andrea Wang. I’m always going to feel an affinity with bassists, no matter what the genre. Wang is the composer and bassist here, creating impressive jazz/post-rock structures with a double-bass, drums, and electric guitar combo. It’s exactly the sort of exploratory, melodic, interlocking work that makes me so interested in both jazz and post-rock. There’s a ton going on here (you try to sort out all the different things happening at the five minute mark), and it all comes together into fascinating, exciting work.

3. “And Then There Was Fire” – The Suitcase Junket. Those familiar with Matt Lorenz’s live performances as The Suitcase Junket are familiar with the mind-bending complexities shaping each song. “And Then There Was Fire” off the November release The End is Now marks Lorenz’s entrance into the 2020 soundtrack. Producer and keyboardist Steve Berlin joined Lorenz (drums, vocals) on this richly textured piece. Masterful in producing sonic waves of tension, I’m happy holding my breath until the end is really now.

4. “Not in Our City (Tracy Shedd remix)” – honeybrandy. A big, thudding electronic backline, overlaid with Tracy Shedd dreamily cooing and a powerful speech from Dr. Keith R. Anderson about addressing police brutality. The line “Not in our city” becomes the hook, as the song grooves along. It’s a song of protest and joy, and as Hanif Abdurraqib notes, these can and often do go together.

5. “Western Ave” – Josh Johnson. Starts off as a Khruangbin jam, then floats into a sax-led jazz piece, then spins off into ever-more-unclassifiable ideas. Trying to define this seems kind of like cheapening it; the expansive, omnivorous approach is so wide as to push at the edges of any description. Very cool stuff.

6. “Wholeness and the Implicate Order” – The Last Dinosaur. A big, bombastic, ominous orchestral piece; it feels like a march and the overture to a very serious film. The woodwinds bring a lot of mystery to the piece, which is always fun.

7. “pingpxng” – YĪN YĪN. If you like thai beat tunes a la Khruangbin (as I very much do), then you may connect very quickly with this thoughtful-yet-dramatic instrumental jam (as I did). Lots of great thai vibes and solid performances all around. This one has a lot of Spaghetti Western in its blood, too.

8. “Axis” – Ross Harper. Harper has a background in ’90s techno, which explains why the flowing, watery ambient lead line has the least-ambient-possible backline of clicks, snaps, rattles, and bass hits. This makes it a rather exciting club-influenced ambient track or an incredibly dreamy techno cut, depending on your viewpoint. I like either viewpoint on it! Quite a bit, actually!

9. “Auras (single edit)” -Brendon Randall-Myers/Dither. Engaging, interesting multi-guitar work that consists of delicate, intricate, carefully planned patterns of staccato tones against a spartan sonic backdrop. This eerie, shadowy work draws heavily on the work of minimalists like Steve Reich and Terry Riley; fans of those composers will find much to love in this piece.

10. “Coac” – Qoniak. A synth/drums duo that is half dance-rock and half jammy synth melodies. The duo is tightly in-sync, with the drums and synths really meshing well. It’s a fun piece!

11. “We Came Through the Storm” – Jonathan Scales Fourchestra. This, my friends, is steel-drum-led fury jazz. This is a madcap mashup of things that don’t usually go together, and it works amazingly. I love steel drum and I have been getting into jazz, and the Fourchestra is (apparently) a thing I have been looking for without knowing it. This is adventurous music of the highest order–definitely check it out if you’re interested in unusual sonic experiments or Snarky Puppy-esque maximal jazz.

12. “Night Owl” – Dizzy Spells. Woozy, lightly-psychedelic alt-pop with a whole lot of whiplash moments; questions like “wait, is that an R&B harmony? is that a gospel choir? is that a toy piano?” abound. Makes me think back to when I first heard The Format; Dizzy Spells is a shooting star out of a field of people all trying to do the same thing, but somehow, not quite as well as Dizzy Spells. Lotsa fun here.

13. “The Earth is Flat” – Alexander Wren. This here is the rare “we are about to get divorced” song, usually the province of storytellers like John Darnielle of The Mountain Goats. The mature, easygoing folk backdrop is reminiscent of Gregory Alan Isakov’s careful work, and with lovely saxophones included for color. The lyrics are well-drawn but sad, as the topic of the song would suggest: “Honey, you love me / and yeah, the earth is flat.” Ouch. It’s a beautiful arrangement regardless.

14. “Tuesday Get” – Dovie Beams Love Child. A push-pull instrumental dream-pop track that features a martial, percussive stomp under a cascading piano melody. The pairing creates a warm, interesting tension between punchy electronica and loose melancholia.

15. “Sizwile” – SPAZA. I’m told that SPAZA is a South African Avant Garde/Jazz improvisational group, which is good, because I do not know what labels I would even begin to try to give to SPAZA. This is a 8.5-minute journey that travels through mystery, exuberance, lament, and more emotional states. The song is built from piano, vocals, and hand percussion, with brass loping in late to give some heft to the proceedings. It’s an amazing, impressive piece. It’s part of a soundtrack for a documentary film about the 1976 Soweto uprising, and whoa, that film is going to have a lot of weight if it inspired this music.

In the past couple years, I’ve recommended particularly genre-blending or atypical work with the phrase “for fans of adventurous music“. Little did I know that in April 2019, the phrase adventurous music came to life as Adventurous Music, a German music label for experimental sounds. The outfit has corrected my lack of knowledge and presented me with a truly adventurous collection called Relatives Schoensein. 

The album is a 40-song (!) compilation and accompanying 92-page (!!) book that surveys all manner of experimental electronic music. Work spans the gamut of electronic stuff. The far end is very nearly white-noise: the long, harsh, atonal “Erode” by Fail; the far shorter, more tonal opener “Leipziger Elsterbecken (Gungan).” The inverse is lush ambient: the Lucho Ripley-esque “Il Tuo Glow Infinito” by Carlo Giustini, “Still Flowing” by Gallery Six. There’s also drone (the title track by Hendecagon, “Yellow” by Nyppy), left-field dance/electro (the busy “Sunworn” by Coppice Halifax, the punchy techno cut “Entity” by Johann Eiriksson), and truly unclassifiable work (“Transitions” by Jo Montgomery, “EKEA” by TBEX). There’s something for everyone here.

I am personally drawn to the melodic ambient and left-field dance, but there was less of that than the experimental, noisier, drone-ier tracks. “UUH (Reprise)” by Signalstoerung is a lovely ambient flutter, while “Southern Hemisphere” by The Empath (feat. Cosmic Noise Crew) is an intriguingly spacey jam leaning on arpeggiators. “Behind the Wall” by Vrum turns an ambient intro into a glitchy, eerie techno stomp, which is one of my favorite turns in the record. Closer “Breakstreet” by 16Pad Noise Terrorist morphs breakbeats and ominous bass with the inclusion of hazy textures to create a strange, inviting brew: it’s as if an orchestra and a rave are happening in rooms next to you, and you’re overhearing both at once. Also there’s some sweet turntable action, which sounds great.

If you’re into harsh electronic, experimental stuff, there is a ton of it on this compilation that will thrill you. If you’re more into melodic work, there are some gems, but not quite as many. Regardless, this is a truly adventurous compilation, and it makes me interested to see what else comes out of Adventurous Music. In addition to the full work, you can download 36 of the 42 pieces here as a benefit release, with proceeds going to Firesticks, Amnesty International, Target-Nehberg, Artist Relief and Campaign Zero.

Under the Reefs Orchestra is a jazz ensemble that sounds like a post-rock band trying to be an electronic outfit. The bass saxophone, guitar, and drums trio create crunchy, groove-laden, thunderous, and seemingly seamless work that could appeal to fans of any of the types of music I mentioned above. “Sumo” is a good place to start: the distorted (!) baritone sax barrels out its riff while the drums give a slo-mo headbanging stomp, and the guitar whirls and clangs above it in a supremely post-rock experience.

“Eldorado” is more heavily electronic, as the drums are processed into an electronic beat and noodly synths wander around the delicate, mysterious guitar line. Closer “Le Naufrage” is a distorted, rumbling, post-apocalyptic landscape driven by the baritone sax that is almost as terrifying as Colin Stetson’s fear-suffused work. “Tucuman” is as close to jazz as this record gets, with the sax playing some jazz-inspired patterns to guide the rest of the band in their still partially-apocalyptic explorations. This whole record sounds like it was recorded late at night in a dimly-lit room, with the trio scoring a particularly edgy noir film. Under the Reefs Orchestra’s self-titled record is a wild ride for those interested in adventurous music. Highly recommended.

—

A lot of people put out quarantine songs (Grimes put out a whole record!), but The People of 2020 have the most unique quarantine record, in my estimation. The self-titled five-song collection was composed by 40 people over a 14-day span, with each person having 24 hours to contribute their parts to the songs as they grew. The three main works (two are opening/closing interludes) span a wide gamut, but it’s generally jazz. It’s big jazz, as you might expect from 40 people working on a record. There are all sorts of influences that come from those large amount of players: on the seven-minute “Flattening,” there’s steel pan, synths, classic-rock-inflected electric guitar, flute, horn line, trombone, solo sax, hand percussion, kit percussion (and boy, the drummer gets after it), and more. The lengths of the tunes help corral some of this largesse into shape, but in general this is a big ‘ol asynchronous jam session, and I am fully here for it. It’s dreamy, it’s woozy, it’s a little wacky, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

“The Climb” is a little less kitchen-sink vibe, as it opens with a slinky sax, a smooth clarinet, and smoky piano to set the vibe. The drums once again ratchet the track’s energy into the stratosphere (your mileage may vary on if this is a good thing or not, I tend to think it could have come down a bit), but the vocals and instruments do a good job of keeping that smoky, slinky vibe going throughout, even with a raucous number of players. The coda is just as noisy as “Flattening,” but it feels a little more in service of the track itself.

“Slide Out” opens up in a much more hip-hop-infused jazz mode, with electric keys, wah guitar, and spoken word vocals leading the funky, snappy charge. Of the three tracks, this one is the most focused and tight, with powerful female sung vocals, somewhat restrained drums, challenging bass work, and saxophone swirling around each other to create an impressive whirligig. If you’d told me that this was a live-gig-weathered outfit that made this track, I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s more surprising that the jam is this tight for a group that has never and probably will never play together in one room. It’s the highlight, for sure.

There’s a lot more info about the record at the record label Infinity Gritty’s site. If you’re up for some kitchen-sink maximalist jazz-funk-hip-hop vibes, hit this one up.

—

TENGGER‘s Nomad is a collection of mostly-instrumental synth-heavy landscapes. The married duo’s last album Spiritual 2 drew heavily on motorik / krautrock sorts of repetition, but Nomad works more with drone, delicate ostinato patterns, and nature-inspired work to invoke its sense of centering calm. Opener “Achime” has subtle percussion clicks to keep the flow moving, and the steady pulse of the arpeggiator on “Eurasia” functions as percussion before a semblance of a kit comes in. Those are limited palettes, compared to prior work, but the rest of the tracks (“Bliss,” “Water,” “Flow,” “Us”) eschew even that. Instead, these are flowing pieces that rely as much on nature recordings (“Bliss”) and subtle evocations of nature (a pattern here, a tone there) to do their work.

And their work is deeply relaxing–it’s more motion-oriented than most ambient tunes, but that only serves to further calm me. Instead of trying to become fully, maximally chill, these tunes seem to gently bring me down to a level of peace-within-gentle-motion that my amped-up self can be comfortable with. “Bliss” is pretty much what it says on the tin, a space where no negative thoughts seem allowed. “Water” sounds like a steady, peaceful stream through masterful synth tone manipulation. “Flow” is ten minutes that opens with a pitched-down, sped-up version of “Water” and layers spacey pad synths on top of it, putting me in a good headspace. Female vocals waft throughout this and other pieces, adding a wordless layer of enthusiasm on the lovely space. It is a bit of a contradiction that it can be enthusiastic and ambient at the same time, but that’s why I like it. Nomad is a lovely, elegant, peaceful work, and I commend it to anyone looking for those qualities.

1. “No Más” – Irreversible Entanglements. I’ve been getting into jazz and world music simultaneously this year, and this track hits my interest in both: I love the interplay of instruments that jazz provides, and I love to find groove and rhythm in unexpected places. This 8-minute jam has all sorts of interplay between the horns and deep grooves (check that long bass/drums section). It’s very exciting music.

2. “Sweater” – Black Midi. Black Midi caught my ear the first time I heard them: I knew that there was some serious weirdness available for Black Midi to tap into, even if the song in front of me didn’t capitalize. Lo. This is that serious weirdness. This steals ideas from ambient, slowcore, krautrock, Sigur Ros, Pink Floyd, Lord Buffalo, and more in an 11.5-minute epic that defies concise description. If you like adventurous music, this is the stuff you’re looking for.

3. “Sawbones” – Anna Meredith. Synths, cello, tuba, drums, and guitar compose this unusual combo. This is very much synth-driven work, but it’s got a composerly approach to it; part of the work is built around a music theory trick/sonic illusion called the Shepherd’s Tone that sounds like it is infinitely ascending. This is a wild thing to build a whole piece of music around, but it works anyway. I haven’t heard much that sounds like Meredith’s work, and that’s always exciting.

4. “Scene Suspended” – Jon Hopkins. Hopkins is a master of peaceful yet revelatory music, and this latest composition is no different. It’s piano-heavy, but by no means a solo piano piece; little sounds and melodies float in and out, creating a warm environment for the calming piano to live in.

5. “Perspective” – Trevor Ransom. A delicate, airy start to this ambient piece slowly gives way to layers of piano, percussion, and guitar for a heavy dose of gravitas. Then it drops to almost nothing and builds again. A lovely piece.

6. “Gizmo” – Camel Power Club. Throw some funky bass, some disco rhythms and a flute solo together and you’ve got quite the fun indie-pop piece.

7. “Footsteps” – Jim Perkins. “Footsteps is a meditation on stillness, peace and calm,” notes Perkins, and he’s right: the piano-and-violin track is peaceful, careful, and calming. Perkins stole all my thunder on this one. Sorry everyone.

8. “All Things New” – Page CXVI. Latifah Alattas’ new work is a swirling, synth-laden ode to the God who makes all things new. It’s a midpoint between the angular, dark, textured work of her solo project Moda Spira and the patiently jubilant work of early Page CXVI. It’s a compelling new direction.

9. “Hallelujah Sing” – Porter’s Gate feat. Latifah Alattas and Audrey Assad. This stripped-down worship tune relies heavily on Rhodes keys and Alattas’ passionate alto voice. Even in celebration, she brings forward the sense of mourning that lives in the background of all jubilation–even if only as a counterpoint, the thing that is not. Put another way: this is work with a depth of emotional performance that is rare.

10. “Time I Got Goin’” – House Above the Sun. A major-key folk-rock song that’s heavy on old-school folk vibes (bright guitar, lush harmonies, way-up-front vocal mixing). It’s like a ray of sunshine breaking out of a bank of clouds; like the previous track, just enough minor key to show the major in a great light. The short trumpet solo is particularly throwback in tone and particularly enjoyable.

11. “Sudden Steps” – Night Gestalt and Nicholas Paschburg. Fuses slow-moving ambient crescendo roar with semi-erratic bouncy synth dots to create a productive tension in a very urban, very nighttime setting.

12. “Now Neither One of Us Is Breaking” – Nick Storring. Some ambient music is averse to structure and just floats along as a mood; Storring’s composition work here manages to be so chill as to almost be ambient, but with the benefits of structure and an overall goal to the piece. To put it another way, this is something akin to a early 1900s romantic orchestral piece with trip-hop backing and bits of East Asian flair thrown in. It’s got vibes for days (light ones and dark ones), but it’s not hurried or fussy. It’s in a realm of its own.