Mixtape 171 • Scarcity Is Manufactured
For a quarter century, Deerhoof have been a benchmark for the contrasting dynamics of sweet and sour, spiked and pillowy, and all manner of sounds that should not get along but quite obviously do.
For a quarter century, Deerhoof have been a benchmark for the contrasting dynamics of sweet and sour, spiked and pillowy, and all manner of sounds that should not get along but quite obviously do.
The best dub music happens when the flow and repetition, the interlocking arrangements, and the roots-heavy vocals all work together to make the time dimension an immeasurable elastic abstraction.
The rich wood floorboards were squeaking under the strain of the game. They had removed their shoes, sketched out the board using a special beeswax that would not damage the finish, and were hopping as lightly as they could, for they respected the solemnity of their location. Nonetheless, the portraits lining the Hall of Admirals in the Museo Maritimo Nacional felt they finally had something to frown about, their serious Chilean brows furrowed in naval concern as they observed the farrier and the anthropologist enjoying their tournament.
Hailing from the southwest of France, The Llamps build on a sound that's equal parts New York City grit, San Francisco psychedelia, and spaghetti Western twang, which makes for a pan-global main dish.
Information on this outfit is scant, but not required to enjoy their lilting melodies and careful close harmonies. These songs are like a cat that has become expert at sneaking onto your lap. Before you know it, they are nestled in and thrumming.
Jagged thunder aplenty, as this band tears through a set of impressively constructed symphonies of hostility. If you like the sort of music that makes you headbang, give this a listen but make a chiropractor appointment first.
Thirty years ago, I witnessed Al Jorgensen chug a bottle of vodka while getting a tattoo and waiting for the acid to kick in. Unrelated, it doesn’t sound like a lot has changed, and fans of this aggressive industrial music outfit should be pleased.
If the name didn’t give it away, this is suitable for slow-dancing cowboys, at least as they exist in our imagination. The crooning voice floats lithely over western swing and doo-wop influences to make you either start or stop howling at the moon.
For quite some time, Mommyheads have delivered the sort of complex pop and lyrical insight that fills in the cracks and gaps in your musical thinking with new ideas and sounds.