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Conjure One: Pilgrimage

This project by Rhys Fulber, former member of Front Line Assembly and Delerium is known mostly to the dance crowd as the writer of the Sinéad O’Connor vocalled Tears From The Moon which featured on their 2003 self-titled debut. Pilgrimage comes from the follow-up Extraordinary Ways.

Initially screwing totally with the ‘stick your best track third on the album’ philosophy, Pilgrimage features wordless vocals from Leah Randi and Joanna Stevens, but introduces itself with a piano and pad intro under which a slow pitched down drum loop beats mysteriously. So, yes, it starts like one for the Dead Can Dance fans. Then it changes into an almost epic-house piano track, pinned by soaring strings and acoustic guitars, plus those fabulous voices.

Extraordinary Ways – Amazon UK
Extraordinary Ways – iTunes UK

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Hannah Fury: Someone Speaks Softly

2003’s single I Can’t Let You In is the annex to Hannah’s debut album, The Thing That Feels, containing as it does two songs that complete the set inspired by Gregory Maguire’s book Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. Recorded at the same time as the debut and therefore retaining its style, Someone Speaks Softly is the second of these, which despite its storyline ultimately highlights the cycle of love and loss, and closes with utterly disarming backing vocals.

I Can’t Let You In – Antoinette’s Revenge

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Boards of Canada: Telephasic Workshop

I bought Boards of Canada’s debut album when it was first released, in 1998. Strangely, whilst I was more than happy to embrace the sonic confusion of Aphex Twin and Autechre, Boards of Canada just screwed with my head and I discarded the album until today. Grief.. that’s nine years.

Telephasic Workshop chops up beats and vocals, layering them like corrugated iron for your ears to clatter over. It’s slightly freaky, but a padded melody keeps everything just light enough so that about 4 minutes in you can experience the stupid grinning face effect.

Music Has the Right to Children – Warp Records (MP3 Downloads)
Amazon UK

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Swati: Big Bang

Before my last.fm profile became a gentle prod to visitors to check out Hannah Fury’s music, it spewed a stream-of-consciousness rambling which included my musical preferences. Within this clumsiness was a nugget of blinding truth: “sorry, boys can’t rock.” I meant this as an oblique reference to my preference for female vocalists – a fetish which has grown over the past eight years. However it wasn’t until yesterday when I first listened to Swati’s debut album Small Gods, that I realised what this statement meant: when women write or play music it can reach to the core of their being, when men do this, no matter how hard they try, how pained or joyful they sound, it comes out as flimflam. Even the ‘greats’ of male singer/songwriting do nothing for me – hey, get your own umbrella. Male songwriting rarely affects me.

Big Bang proves to all those guys in the 1970s and 80s who reached for the synthesizer that they should have learnt how to play guitar instead.

More about Small Gods in further posts, I can guarantee this. (Hat tip to Muruch!)

Small Gods – iTunes UK
Small Gods – Amazon UK (Import)

Swati
Swati – MySpace

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Huski: There She Goes

It is lazy, but oh so easy to compare Huski with Goldfrapp. While their debut album Love Peace Pain initially appears to draw from some lineage between Felt Mountains and Black Cherry, Huski are actually more diverse and intriguing.

This is a collaboration between the musically omnipotent Maple Bee and some guy named Pike. Their somewhat angular melodies seem to be inspired by 70s pop and late-80s Cocteau Twins. This impression grows as one listens further through the album, climaxing with There She Goes, a blissed-out groove that begins with simple synth pulses and an acoustic guitar, adds a piano, then throws in other instruments, beats and just one vocal line (it’s all it needs). From thereon in everything turns deliciously shoegazy.

iTunes UK
Amazon UK
Huskimusic
Huski – MySpace

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Lisa Germano: Turning into Betty

In some places Lisa Germano’s 1998 album Slide lightens the mood when compared with her previous full-length releases. Turning into Betty, allegedly about becoming her mother, is the most obvious of this. The beauty of this song is borne through its simple melodies, but Lisa mutates them with clambering percussion, mournful strings and occasional distorted guitars.

The live version heard on Extra CD for Pig is better because it cuts away this musical confusion, rendering with just organ and voice, making it strangely less humorous.

Slide – 4AD
Lullaby for Liquid Pig – Amazon UK

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Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton: Rowboat

It’s amusing to read that the music press is finally coming around to Emily Haines’ solo work. Her work with The Soft Skeleton (a shifting collection of her musical friends) is something that needs to seep into you: listeners’ obligations are to let it rust a while, then come back to it and listen again, repeatedly.

This opener from her new EP, What Is Free to a Good Home, begins with horns that puff exhaustedly before Emily happily declares that “I’ve been told I’m living a lie.. all my life.” Emily’s piano work alternates between complimentary chords and rhythmic cyclic runs that are more valuable for what they leave behind than how they sound. Only near the end of the song do the horns and chords combine to help Emily reflect on the rowboat. It is, predictably, just an incidental observation to something that goes much deeper.

Amazon UK (Import)

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Ellen Allien & Apparat: Orchestra of Bubbles

Number 5 of 2006 — Ellen Allien & Apparat: Orchestra of Bubbles

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German musician and DJ Ellen Allien, founder of Berlin’s BPitch Control, makes dancefloor techno, whereas Sascha Ring (aka Apparat) appears to be more interested in sound. German techno – truly the sound of machines – shouldn’t work with the brainiac tones and rhythms of intelligent dance music. This collaborative album succeeds by granting these disciplines their own spaces which enables them to collide gracefully. The title, Orchestra of Bubbles, is apt.

Turbo Dreams gives listeners no chance to become accustomed to this joint venture. This opening track rushes in, creating signature techniques to be picked up elsewhere: multilayered syncopated and glitchy percussion, delays and warm analog synths. There’s an inherent tension which just about keeps everything in order.

This album isn’t simply about technique. The obvious attention to detail creates a structure which ironically gives more opportunities to break rules. There are three elements which take this further than one might expect, forcing the exposure of subtle emotions.

Way Out begins with the most striking of these: the introduction of Ellen’s voice. Processed so as to give it more air, she carries the main melody of the track. The lyrics sparse and fragmented. A piercing steamy synth cuts through in a unsuccessful attempt to drag the track back to the production line. We then hear the second element: real strings. Two clear signs that this album is intentionally soulful – binding traditional song elements to the mechanistic properties of techno which detractors consider unfeeling. Thereafter, Way Out simply soars. The following track, Retina is a harsh come-down, taking the strings darker: using looped cello stabs and throbbing beats to disorientate the listener.

Ellen also sings sparingly on the tangy Sleepless, propelled by crunching beats, and she whispers through Bubbles, the melancholic closer which is all filters, delays and loops. The highlight of the album however is Do Not Break, which throws vocal snatches and hip-hop scratches into something approaching a sibling of Turbo Dreams, except with more beats and a gorgeous crest that combines these vocals with keys and a rich pad sequence.

The latter tracks of Orchestra of Bubbles introduce the third element, being surprisingly bass heavy: Metric lightens Retina’s strings but then pops them on top of quivvering dubstep. Under clatters through empty lift shafts chased by an ominous sub-bass. Apparat turns up to croon on Leave Me Alone, but this ends up sounding like a hungover Röyksopp.

The overall impression of this album is of beats trapped inside almost infinite reflections. Penultimate track Edison makes this explicit and experimental with dissolved cascades of falling ping-pong balls that back elegiac padded keys and a plucked zither.

You could argue that with Orchestra of Bubbles, Ellen Allien and Apparat are reconstructing techno, with a plan to take it into the realm of song. This album is a worthy attempt. However there was one other album released in 2006, which did this much better. That album is further up my list.

iTunes UK
Amazon UK

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