The act known as Scanner (aka Robin Rimbaud) maintains a good track record of posting new free music most months, and the first such MP3 of 2005 is a bit of one of his dance scores (Nemesis, written for the Random Dance ensemble), remixed by DJ Danger Mouse (mastermind of the headline-making Grey Album). Apparently Danger Mouse did this “long before” Grey Album. It’s a six-plus-minute piece, uncharacteristically melodic for Scanner, even romantic, along the lines of a Hollywood spygame score, and run through with percussive elements. Track here, more on Scanner at scannerdot.com. On the dance group’s website, randomdance.org, there are video clips of Nemesis being performed (navigate to “repertory”).
Frogsong MP3
One sure contender for a best-of-2004 listing was a small album called Pond, a record constructed almost entirely from frogsong. Olivier Messiaen had his birds, Mira Calix her insects, Ross Bagdasarian his Chipmunks — and Tod Dockstader and his partner on Pond, David Lee Meyers (aka Pulsewidth and Arcane Device), have their frogs.
The record is more than a parabolic-microphone experiment; it’s a return to the commercial market for Dockstader, an influential figure whose Eight Electronic Pieces came out in 1961 on Folkways (yes, the label better known for field recordings of the rural blues variety; streaming samples here). For at least the past decade, though, Dockstader has largely been represented by reissues, including appearances on retrospective compilations on the labels Sub Rosa (An Anthology Of Noise & Electronic Music) and Ellipsis (Ohm: The Early Gurus of Electronic Music).
Pond reportedly resulted from correspondence between the two composers, who shared an affection for frogs (one thinks immediately of Vladimir Nabokov and his butterflies, John Cage and his mushrooms). The result ranges from swamp muck to utter abstraction. Download a full track from Pond, titled “Crepitata,” here. It’s hosted on Myers’ site (pulsewidth.com) here. More on Dockstader at dockstader.info (unofficial). And the final, year-end Disquiet.com best-of-2004 list here.
Year-End Catch-Up MP3s
It’s pointless to try to close a year of Disquiet Downstream entries with a bang. When you traffic in understated music, as this site has for eight years, what are you going to do? Break ranks by linking to a high-decibel field recording of explosives, and scare everyone away? Well, maybe. But in light of yesterday’s entry (here), which touched on how the World Wide Web helps illuminate the connections between dispersed artists, the last day of 2004 seems like a good opportunity to check back in on, if not tie off, a small handful of loose ends:
1. Back in March (here), the Ninja Tune label announced a contest in which you could remix the raw materials from which the Wroclaw, Poland-based group Skalpel produced its song “Break In,” a cinematic mix of fusoid jazz and electronic exotica from their self-titled debut album. The “Break In” elements consisted of 27 bits and pieces, ranging from drum tracks to background noise. The label chose a winner from over a hundred entries, and posted it, along with three runners-up and seven short-listed entrants. The champions, a duo consisting of Jeff Bruce Hay and Rob Quickenden, emphasized the loungey atmosphere of the original. All 11 winners, plus the original track, are downloadable at ninjatune.net.
2. Speaking of music competitions, it’s been a while since checking in with the kracfive.com crew and, especially, its Iron Chef of Music challenges. The most recent one, dating from October 22, features Logreybeam, Colongib, Noah and Relative Q mixing up some wacky-robot clips by music-for-kids innovator Bruce Haack. Check ’em out kracfive.com. Also available: results of an October 9 contest based on Robocop and an August 8 contest built from a Lord of the Rings trailer.
3. For a long time, Keith Fullerton Whitman (aka Hrvatski) put up monthly free MP3 files of his music on his reckankomplex.com site, and many of them were Downstream entries. Earlier this year he pretty much stopped, in favor of a cool “radio” tool that, at last count, featured 75 streaming tracks. This doesn’t mean, though, that KFW downloads are gone for good. In November, for instance, the British music magazine The Wire posted on its download page (thewire.co.uk) a delicate, nearly 20-minute solo “guitar/computer” performance recorded at the Adventures in Modern Music festival held in Chicago this past September.
4. One subject of the December 8 entry (here), William Fowler Collins, is, like many electronic musicians, also a graphic designer. He just announced the launch of the website he produced for an acclaimed San Francisco Bay area musical figure, John Bischoff: johnbischoff.com. Bischoff’s new web home includes four segments from his Aperture CD (on the 23Five label), each of which investigates the trebly upper reaches of the ear’s capacity for sound, with internecine clicking and whirring.
OK, that should cover it for 2004. I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone for their correspondence, their listening suggestions and their general feedback on the Disquiet.com website. See you next year — or, that is, in less than 12 hours.
Six Deep MP3s
There’s a six-degrees quality to sleuthing for MP3s across the web. That’s six degrees of separation, not Six Degrees the record label. Sure, there are the standard sources for free music, among them: established record labels (Ninja Tune, Matador, etc.), netlabels (Kikapu, Stasisfield, etc.), copyright-enlightened musicians (Scanner and Matmos come to mind immediately) and the grey- and black-market mp3blogs and so-called ipodcasts, which generally post other people’s music as a kind of cultural commentary.
But far more prevalent are the caches maintained by independent, under-recognized musicians, people who post their own music and, in the process, link to colleagues who do the same. As a result, one can move from musical act to musical act, bedroom label to bedroom label, across a web of relationships that is simply and foremost a natural flowering of the sort that so-called social-network applications (Friendster, etc.), perhaps futilely, attempt to literalize. This week is one such example: Monday started with a new set of tracks from Christopher Willits (here), a laptop+guitar musician who noted the MP3s’ availability in his recent email newsletter. One of those tracks was sourced from a compilation that included an unfamiliar name, Sebastien Roux, a bit of searching for whom yielded Tuesday’s Downstream entry (here). That led, in turn, to another compilation on another label, and another unfamiliar name: an artist called Deep. Understand, of course, that for every link that yields MP3 gold, there are a half dozen searches that go nowhere and an equal number that go nowhere of interest.
As for Deep, like Willits he uses tools from rock’n’roll to make rich ambient-leaning music. On his webpage, hosted by the Dhyana record label (here), he’s posted six files. The meatiest chunk is an opaquely titled track, “Deep on ‘Flache und Raum’ (Prion Music 2003),” that makes a fantastic 20-minute voyage between the earthy digital ambience of Muslimgauze and the sludge metal of bands like Earth and SunnO))) — it’s as if you’re listening to a time-lapse recording of rebar warping slowly over a century. The shorter pieces include: the molasses-slow “8 Basses,” which may very well be that, but if so they’re playing it tighter than a fleet of Blue Angels fighter pilots; “Concombreak,” which exposes the true density of “8 Basses” by focusing on a mere two, whose lightly reverberating interplay recalls the spacious minimalism of Andy Summers’ early post-pop recordings; “Downhill,” which ups the pop quotient with a rhythm out of the Cure’s best work; “Kfz,” which pots down the pop and up the noise; and a “Sasha Mueller” remix that’s a fine bit of minimal techno done up with stroboscopic stereo effect. Download them here.
Best CDs of 2004
What a difference a year makes. As anyone who’s checked in on Disquiet.com occasionally during 2004 knows, my listening this year has been focused largely on music released free and legally via the web, whether by netlabels or by individual artists, as highlighted in the daily Downstream entries. Last year at this time, I listed 15 favorite full-length recordings, so deep did the shelves seem with strong CDs. This year, the shelves are more packed than ever, but frankly, there were no individual releases that stuck the way last year’s Disquiet chart toppers did (those by Kid Koala and Boxhead Ensemble).
In 2004, new records by many old favorites, like Squarepusher (Ultravisitor), Beastie Boys (To the 5 Boroughs), John Adams (On the Transmigration of Souls) and DJ Krush (Jaku), albeit very fine in their own right, didn’t demand concerted, continued, curious listening. Admittedly, no single netlabel release seemed to hold its own against these, though two on the Stasisfield label, John Kannenberg‘s Four Painters and Raemus‘ Stream Studies, certainly came close; the gap is narrowing quickly. Still, there was a bounty of good work. What the following 10 albums (well, 11 actually) have in common is not only that they made for regular repeated listening, but they were also the albums that came to mind often when other records were playing. Consider these listed in alphabetical order:
William Basinski
The Disintegration Loops
(2062)
There’s a whole lot of loss sewn into this lengthy, dark ambient series by Basinski, who was impelled to produce it after viewing the World Trade Center collapse from nearby Brooklyn. Four heavy sets.
Bjork
Medulla
(Elektra)
Her conceits often threaten to overwhelm her music, as initially seems to occur here, on an album constructed almost entirely from the human voice, most notably her own, which is one of the most powerful and distinct in contemporary music. Then you realize that the sense of being overwhelmed has less to do with the impact of the plan, the big idea that fuels the album, than it does with the intensity of its musical production, the sheer emotional force of her relentless effort.
Greg Davis
Curling Pond Woods
(Carpark)
and Somnia
(Kranky)
With his debut full-length, Arbor, also on Carpark (2002), Greg Davis helped define the contours of a folk realm for electronic music, drawing in traditions of the ’60s folk resurgence, a predilection that benefited from his academic training in composition. With Curling Pond Woods, Davis defied expectations in many ways, primarily because the ’60s folk-pop elements became more defined, not less. With covers of the Incredible String Band and the Beach Boys, and echoes of much psychedelia, he joined the tradition rather than merely sampling it. Somnia, on Kranky, takes a more drone-oriented approach, but it’s no less compelling for its relative formlessness.
Fennesz
Venice
(Touch)
Christian Fennesz can build small cities from things as slight as glitches, hum and over-amplified guitar, and this album collects a dozen examples of his soundcraft: the orchestral depth of “The Point of It All”; the vibrant chaos of “The Stone of Impermanence,” with a melody buried deep in its core; the buzzing liveliness of “Circassian.” One highlight is “Transit,” a vocal track featuring singer David Sylvian (following up Fennesz’s work on Sylvian’s Blemish from last year); it’s like a Wim Wenders film condensed to under five minutes.
Iron & Wine
Our Endless Numbered Days
(Sub Pop)
The slocore band Iron & Wine is ambient by association, like Low before it, and Galaxie 500 before Low. When you perform your songs at this pace, and with this trenchantly naked a production style, you draw attention to moments (bits of instrumental fragility, aching little tears in vocal lines) that are generally lost in the all-too-familiar churn of verse-chorus-verse.
Jóhann Jóhannsson
Virthulegu Forsetar
(Touch)
Easily one of the most compelling composers working today, ushering a dense hush from dozens of instrumental players working in unison. A must for those who appreciate the gravitas of Arvo Part and Gavin Bryars.
Medeski Martin & Wood
End of the World Party: Just in Case (Dig)
(Blue Note)
There’s something beyond enlightened about the way the jazz trio Medeski Martin & Wood explore together, and in their diverse independent projects, the depth of the groove — something downright righteous. This set is, as they say, knee deep in the pocket, and its electronic stamp of approval comes courtesy of its intense production, thanks to John King, better known as half of the Dust Brothers (masterminds behind the Beastie Boys’ Paul’s Boutique, Beck’s Odelay).
Savath & Savalas
Apropa’t
(Warp)
Of all the pop estuaries that feed into and out of electronic music, from noise to classical minimalism to Muzak, few have the fortitude of tropicalia. Though the singer (Eva Puyeulo Muns) and songs on this album are Catalonian, the feel is often pure Ipanema. Muns’ partner in Savath & Savalas is Scott Herren, best known for his downtempo hip-hop, recorded under the Prefuse 73 pseudonym. There’s a sweep and breadth to their collaboration that much electronica lacks, and an intimacy and attention to intricate production details that virtually all pop-vocal recordings ignore. Just listen to “Ultimo Tren,” how an extended field recording works into a drum pattern, and you’ll be hooked.
Secret Frequency Crew
Forest of the Echo Downs
(Schematic)
Like high-end footwear, music that appears cutting edge one night often seems anachronistic the next day. The sort of album that the Secret Frequency Crew produced this year fits in nicely with the sort of downtempo, hip-hop-extracted electronica that Funki Porcini, RJD2, Tommy Guerrero and others have foisted… well, for years. Still, it’s rife with enough rhythmic and melodic inventions to keep the Patent Office staff up late.
Craig Taborn
Junk Magic
(Thirsty Ear)
A fine melding of contemporary jazz and digital performance/production, bringing the kind of rhythmically challenging melodies we expect from Ornette Coleman together with the noir-influenced electronics of Cinematic Orchestra. In a year when records by Tim Berne (Souls Saved Hear), John Zorn (many in the “50th Birthday Celebration” series), Arto Lindsay (Salt) and Marc Ribot (a central guest on the MMW album also mentioned in this list) recalled why the Knitting Factory club in lower Manhattan was such a central location for new music in the late 1980s, this record made you feel like you were still there.
THE YEAR IN REVIEW, BRIEFLY: Worth listening to alongside MMW’s End of the World Party and Taborn’s Junk Magic is guitarist Bill Frisell‘s Unspeakable, easily his best electric solo album, which is too interesting to explore in depth in this space. Suffice to say, though, that producer Hal Willner‘s contribution of turntable and sampling deserves some more attention. Also, Mylab by Mylab, aka Tucker Martine, Wayne Horvitz and a bunch of formidable guests (Frisell, Skerik, Danny Barnes and others). Oh, and The Turntable Sessions: Volume 1 from the Amulet label, run by MMW’s drummer, Billy Martin. Oh, and Chief Excel (of Blackalicious) grafting together Fela Kuti tracks on Underground Spiritual Game. Yeah, it’s a deep well. One major disappointment in this realm: hip-hop DJ El-P‘s High Water, among the Thirsty Ear label’s latest efforts to remix outward-bound instrumentalists (in this case: Roy Campbell, Daniel Carter, William Parker, Matthew Shipp and others); El-P is, simply, far too reticent to participate actively in the proceedings. On the flipside, to hear one of jazz-tronica’s canonical works done straight, listen to Miles Davis‘ “In a Silent Way” revisited on Don Byron‘s Ivey-Divey.
The stunning and ongoing wave of (often artist-driven) improvements in digital media and technology hasn’t only given birth to new music; it’s helped keep progenitors going, both by drawing bringing a new audience to the work of the early mavericks, and preserving their groundbreaking work on CD. It was a year rich with new or old music from such elemental figures as, among others: Alvin Curran (Canti Illuminati, Maritime Rights, Our Ur, ABO, Lost Marbles, etc.) James Tenney (Postal Pieces), Harry Partch (lots of stuff) and Tod Dockstader (with David Lee Meyers on Pond, a new work built almost entirely from frogsong). Almost a retro act at this stage, one highlight was Loop Orchestra‘s Not Overtly Orchestral (Quecksilber), which needs to be heard to be believed. The Loop Orchestra creates lush aviaries of texture with nothing but reel-to-reel tape loops. Imagine if Tape Music Center cofounder Pauline Oliveros were to coax a DJ team, say the X-Ecutioners or the Skratch Piklz, out of their comfort zone and into the Twilight Zone.
If selecting albums of the year is silly, then doing a parallel list of singles is downright ludicrous, (1) in part because of the sheer number of songs released each year, (2) in part because the “single” barely exists at a time when (2.1) major record labels have all but forsaken ’em and (2.2) iTunes, Bleep.com and similar online digital-music retailers have turned all songs into singles, and (3) in part because the list of favorites just keeps changing, but come New Year’s Eve, here are the pop-oriented hits in heavy rotation: Beastie Boys‘s “Ch-Ch-Check It Out” (hip-hop production as classic rock), Crystal Method‘s “Weapons of Mass Distortion” (with Wes Borland on guitar — what Limp Bizkit may have sounded like, had Fred Durst left the band once upon a time instead of Borland), Eminem‘s “Just Lose It” (relative to the somewhat disappointing new album, Encore, this is more like nostalgia for his preview full-lengths), Fabolous‘ “Breathe” (crystalline in its momentum and production), Iron & Wine‘s “Passing Afternoon” (from the full length, see above), Skalpel‘s “1958” (Ninja Tune’s Polish extraction), Squarepusher‘s “Venus” (some rhythms never die), Josh Todd‘s “Blast” (pure pop metal, but as addictive as it is urgent), Usher ft Lil Jon and Ludacris‘ “Yeah!” (see “Breathe”), Snoop Dogg ft Pharrell‘s “Drop It Like It’s Hot” (the antidote to “Yeah!” — laid back as all get out).
And, as always, much of the year’s best sounds and soundscapes were buried behind and beneath the scenes of major motion pictures. Of particular note were the scores to: Ocean’s 12 (David Holmes), The Bourne Supremacy (John Powell — the orchestra is entirely analog, but it has the same delicacy, and the same rhythmic juts, as his techno-laced theme for the remade Italian Job), Zatoichi (Keiichi Suzuki), Hero (Tan Dun), Wicker Park (Cliff Martinez — the movie was beautifully shot and pretty crappy otherwise, but it’s worth noting that Jóhann Jóhannsson had a track in the film, yet it’s on neither the pop-song CD or the score CD), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (Jon Brion) and The Motorcycle Diaries (Gustavo Santaolalla).