Album Review: Ethereal Pilgrim's "Free Diving"

Ethereal Pilgrim

Free Diving - LP

Review by: Reed Burnam

Much to the credit of its title, Free Diving, the new album from Roman Pavlov aka Ethereal Pilgrim is just that: an extended, placid, lilting descent from a more vertical vantage point into ever increasing layers of deep blue chill-out psychedelia. The foreign worlds Pavlov creates across the 71 minutes of Free Diving’s fluid event horizon are both technically well-crafted and sonically pleasing, and taken as a whole comprise a hopeful, organic record that plays well both in the background and in your headphones.

Allusions to water, the ocean, and the fluid movement of both mass and energy are likely to color most descriptions of the contents of Free Diving, and not just given the album’s title and song names such as “In Pacific Ocean”, “Breathe Underwater”, and “Touch of Blue Light”. The music is as hazy as sea fog and as gently swelling as a far-off breaker seen through a pane of stained glass. Each track herein is a type of journey in itself (no song clocks at under 5:00), and best taken in a dimly yet warmly lit room. There are hints of a lot of things going on here, from the emotionally-charged electro-chill of Enigma and perhaps Bjork, to the alien worlds of Robert Rich, Brian Eno and a host of ambient knob twiddlers, to the dreamier side of Moby and current chill-wave darlings Washed Out, and even some hints here and there of the luscious, dreamy melancholia that characterizes some of This Mortal Coil’s more ethereal work. Though there’s not any one influence that strongly comes to mind, and in keeping with the album’s general arc, notions and recollections tend to filter to the surface with a type of languid fluidity.

What Ethereal Pilgrim gives us here is an extended meditation. It’s spacey, fluid, watery, soundtrackish, dramatic, choral, warm, spiritualized, blissful, hopeful, and a lot of other similarly-charged adjectives. In yet another oceanic alliteration, the overall scope of Pavlov’s work here is as expansive as the look and feel of water, space, or openness in all four directions, and a full listen to the contents herein is likely to induce similar feelings of easy, floating aimlessness. And it would seem that the aimlessness, as some sage once said (probably), is the whole point.

Pavlov’s piano playing is adept, downplayed, and meshes well with the airy sweeps, pads, and vocal tracks across the album. The songs tend to ebb and flow, with enough movement to keep things interesting across an entire track and not get totally buried underneath the sonic swells. Everything is mixed well overall. The recurrent female vocal tracks are really smooth and beautiful and would give Enya a run for her money (though thankfully the music is not so unpalatable). The underlying beat structures are interesting and unobtrusive, as evidenced on tracks such as “Breathe Underwater”, “Ganymede”, “K’ank’in”, and album opener “In Pacific Ocean (Ethereal)”. The opening salvo/trio of the three “ethereal” tracks (“In Pacific Ocean”, “Breathe Underwater”, and “Flying in the Deep Blue”) are quite nice, and work well as a group. Other album stand-outs are “Son of the Sun” and “Siren (Ethereal)”.

As the album spins on, one piece of criticism that could be leveled towards Pavlov’s terrestrial starscapes might be the dawning feeling that in moving forward, we just might have been here before…in crafting the often seamless and sealed landmarks that dot Free Diving’s elysian fields, one begins to sense a pattern emerging through the smoke and haze, and there’s a wish that more attention could have been paid to the amorphous spaces and interstices between the record’s bliss-tempo futuristics, allowing for a bit more of the ambient to emerge from what is at core a really great chill-out/downtempo record. There’s room in the margins of Ethereal Pilgrim’s sound to successfully elevate the music to another level by distancing out the pretty moments in order to create more anticipation and the kind of open space that the music seems to be yearning towards, as the one sticking point of Free Diving could be the homogeneity that starts to creep in by the album’s close. Though it’s probably worth noting that opinions are more often than not simply self-motivated suggestions, a thought here is to expand the frontiers by scaling back a bit, ala the more alluvial aspects of the collaborations between Eno and Budd.

As stated in his bio, Pavlov’s musical output was preceded by a type of “spiritual awakening”, which would seem to shine through here at various points and perhaps lends a deeper quality overall that is felt as well as heard. Ethereal Pilgrim’s music is just as well suited to slow-motion nature films and wide panning shots over hopelessly breathtaking natural vistas as it is for the late night chill-out session; in fact, the fusing of the two elements here is one of the album’s stand-out points. Free Diving manages to enmesh a pervasive, meditative element into a genre that sometimes tries a little too hard to hit just the right mix of cool and in the meantime misses the larger point. Free Diving’s progenitor obviously has some stars in his eyes, and more the better for we listeners. This is music to dream to.

Review by: Reed Burnam

Rating: 4 Stars (out of 5)

Album Review: Blackat - "Moonlight Glimpse"

Jeez, these blog things are like plants: pay them no attention and they whither and die. Here's an album I reviewed a while back and really liked. In retrospect, I would have bumped up the rating a little bit, as I've been listening to the album off and on over the past couple of months. Plus it's Texas-made, which is alright in my book any day of the week. Got a few more coming soon, promise. Enjoi.

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Blackat

Moonlight Glimpse - LP

Reviewer: Reed Burnam

Blackat’s newest record Moonlight Glimpse (2011, Dub Commission Records) has a lot of things going for it. Hailing from Arlington, Texas, the guy formerly known as DJ Black brings a smorgasbord of aural oddities to the fore herein. And not to use oddities in any sort of derogatory sense. In a field of music (dubstep/electronic-a) that when mentioned these days more often than not elicits squeals of “Oh yeah, dubstep – I love Skrillex!”, Blackat’s down-South stew of experimental, avant, and expressionist electro tracks manages to tread a lot of ground, and more than that offers the promise of more to come. Moonlight Glimpse is 54 minutes of sonic beat experimentation operating under the guise of an electronic record. Though the album suffers here and there from some tracks that atrophy down into an event horizon of repetitiveness, not-quite achieving their full potential, there’s quite a bit on this record that has a lot of promise, and often times the cyclical, differentiated, and thoroughly non-streamlined approach makes for a chunk of sound that is more than the sum of its parts. Add to the fact that Moonlight Glimpse is pulsing out of your speakers straight out of the great state of Texas, and you gotta respect, plain and simple.

Tracks here are things-unto-themselves while still seeming to form a cohesive whole at the end of a straight-through listen. Perhaps the most noteworthy element of the album at large is its experimental feel throughout, as it refuses to bow down to easy rhythms and straight-forward progressions. Drums aren’t afraid to stray into off-beat, staccato patterns that are offset by deep, trance-laden melodicisms and an effective avant-aesthetic that is peppered with cinematic overtures, brooding dark/ambient passages, and occasional effects worthy of late night sci-fi theater. The diversity that colors most of Moonlight Glimpse is one of its stronger suits, and paints the picture of an album that is trying to avoid being boxed in and categorized. That being said, one of the downsides is that despite this penchant for experimentation, some tracks fall a bit short of what could be a higher-order experience, instead creating a mood that is effective for the first half of the track and then kind of drags its way through the second half. Not quite stagnation, as that word sounds way too harsh for what is at core a pretty good record, but here and there a little more chaos/order/chaos might really add to this mix.

As for individual tracks herein, here’s a quick overview. Album opener “Flashlight” sets the pace, a nice off-kilter drum pattern replete with a sparse, moody string-section background interspersed with a range of sometimes jarring effects. The vox get a bit worn-out by about mid-song (see above). “Alanna” continues, with a creepy-crawly violin/cello sample repeated over what sounds like a back alley orchestra in Blade Runner or something. Good tension in this one, everything hangs together well. “Bring” is an album stand-out, and calls to mind visions of a dark/ambient/experimental/electro cavalry march across the surface of a ruined planet – very cinematic. Good stuff. Can’t say as much for “Time Well Spent”, in which the samples start to grate after the first thirty seconds; the track is way better when they drop out around 1:20 or so and should have explored the space rather than fill it up with a few annoying samples. “Gavin’s Emotions” is another album favorite, moody and cerebral with a breakdown that’s one part overdone and one part perfect, especially when the whole landscape comes back into view at around 2:20. “Little Birdy” is hardwired and futuristic, with a looped bird call that brings to mind Dan Deacon’s Woody Woodpecker sample off Spiderman of the Rings; “Burden” is more downtempo, with what could pass for a techno-jazz-bass line sparse and low in the back. Nice.

By “Reflection”, the album is picking up pace a little bit. “Em Low” is bombastic at points, with a cool bass line and plenty of space around the edges, and bleeds well into “Fuck It”, a psychedelic, trip-the-light-fantastic rave cut that (almost) induces the perma-tracers out of hiding, and is another album stand-out here for the sheer exuberance of it. And for the finale, the guest appearances come out – Bassick’s “Run That Track” locks, loads, and unleashes the dubstep drop that’s been brewing up the whole album, and induces the head-nodding immediately. Dragonman’s “Devil” is another track with a lot of club appeal, deep bass, and a skittering on-point rhythm pattern flowing over looped movie sampling. And to end things out, Adan Lee’s “Zero Gravity” is an excursion into the wee hours of the AM, dropping in and out of an electro-lullaby into chasms of bass and kick.

In all, there’s a lot of promise on Moonlight Glimpse, and it’s hoped that Blackat maintains the sense of experimentation-rather-than-conformity that is all over this album. With a little tweaking and an eye to the tracks as cohesive units in-themselves, the output should be a great listen. Coming soon to a party near you.

Rating: 3 Stars (out of 5)

Reviewer: Reed Burnam

Late-Bloomer Review: Liturgy's "Aesthetica"

SO I was looking for something to do and decided to offer up a short (very short) review of Liturgy's newest Black Metal excursion Aesthetica, which was released before this blog came about. If you don't know Liturgy, and you like metal, you should check them out. If you know them, then you either really like them or really hate them, aka they're either poseur/hipster BM fakers or one of the genre's newest progressive forces. Though I appreciate the theater of it, I tend to like my Black Metal a little lighter on the crude aesthetic copy-catting and regrettably reactionary politics (esp. where National Socialism is concerned), but it's hard to argue with the visceral reaction engendered by the genre as a whole. There's a lot of interesting ground being covered with Black Psych-Metal and Black Noise in general, the likes of which I tend to appreciate much more than the idiotic Satanic posturing, which is just as one-dimensional and flat as anything the Bible Belt can come up with, and really can only exist in concert with it. Anyhow, I digress. Here's my short review of Aesthetica:

"Holy shit. Get this album."

And see them live. I've caught them 3 or 4 times now, and just watching the drummer work makes the whole thing worth it. Fucking kills it.

Green Metal Overtakes the Echoplex: Jan. 26, 2012

What with all the copious over-usage of the adjective "green" in our hollowed, modern existences, ladies and gentlemen I go you one further: Green Metal. People's been talking about it for a bit now, and it needs a nifty genre name so as to dilute it of its essence and make it easier to fold into your anti-consumer consumer lifestyle. Now go buy a record. Or else take a long walk in the woods alone.

Tomorrow night: Echoplex, LA. Time for a re-up with one of the best metal bands I've seen in 20 years of checking out metal bands.

Album Review: Yellowbird - "More or Less the Same"

Wow, it's been a long time since I've blogged here. Not that we have too many regular readers anyhow, but damned if I haven't been a bit busy since starting the new job in LA. A resolution for the new year is to keep a little more present here, so here goes.

To begin with, here' s a record I reviewed recently that was pretty good. Some young Australian lads, big on the punk ethos and throw-back without biting the vibe too hard. You should check this out if you can. Enjoi.

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Yellowbird

More or Less the Same - LP

Reviewer: Reed Burnam

Rating: 4 Stars (out of 5)

More or Less the Same, the newest outing from Melbourne, Australia’s own electric punks Yellowbird, is eleven tracks of pure goodness. And not in your Sunday morning pew and hymnal kinda way goodness, though if you’re into communing at the sonic altar and like your records to have a little substance along with the ability to get you moving, then this one is for you. Filled to the rafters with barnstorming electroclash, snarling post-punk guitars, anthemic and gritty dancefloor synths, and a playful/snotty/pissed off vocal attack that’s shipwrecked somewhere between Lydon and Adrock, More or Less the Same sounds good and looks great, courtesy of a lot of cool hand-drawn art and some smart/minimalist design choices that go hand in hand with the underlying body politic herein. Throw into the mix that this album’s got a true-blue DIY message, some agitprop politics and a whole lot of heart, and it would be safe to say that perhaps dubbing the record a tour de force might not be too far off the mark. And all this from a couple of young punkers from Melbourne barely out of their teens: Let it be proclaimed that the beat is alive and well and still attempting to pierce the side of the commercial, mainstream behemoth known as modern pop culture. Fighting the good fight.

Taking cues from a long history of confrontational sound and lyric that need not be regurgitated here (if you’re looking to flesh out your set and setting, a weekend spent with Lester Bangs while Metal Box and This Nation’s Saving Grace spin on your turntable ought to do the trick), Yellowbird’s sound pulls from a host of disparate sources that are well-ensconced in the now-legendary yet still breathing secret history of the twentieth (and now twenty-first) century. However, to simply riff on influence and nods would be to trample an overarching message here, which seems to be “The past is dead, long live the past, fuck the past and let’s move on already!” Which is a sentiment that this reviewer couldn’t sympathize more with. There’s a constructive thread throughout More or Less the Same which is heartening and well taken, and the joys of lampooning fakery, shallowness, hollow rhetoric, and general reactionary nuttiness are perennial and all the time more necessary. And we could go on and on. But the music demands attention.

The album comes on big right out of the box. “Serena” kicks off the fray with a classic attack formation that builds on successive counts to the serious head-bobber of a riff that’s big and gritty and powerful. The vox are a welcome surprise, coming off quite playful at first but with an unpredictability and a snotty lilt that sounds like PiL vs. that dude from Ghostland Observatory. Good track, entertaining lyrics. “PeoPeoMoxMox” starts up with the rabble-rousing and the addition of the synths which work to pleasing effect across the whole album, and the song’s got a fist-pumper of a chorus. “Capital Idea” is a short and sweet rant on wanton consumerism replete with some fat bass, and “The Dancing Proletariat” is a coarse new-wave inspired call for the listener to wake up out of the industrio-corporatocracy matrix, with added flatlining effects for high drama (extra points for printing lyrics in the liner notes here).

“I Like Your Hair” has a great intro piece and is a stand-out track generally, laying an electro backbeat down before the collected simmer-tracks put a boot to its neck (without messing up the hair of course). To further the irony machine, “Teddy” adds to the one-upmanship by telling a story of someone who covers up his insecurities with his fists, while the track uses the melody line from Air’s “Sexy Boy” (from their French Sexy/Cool Guy album Moon Patrol) to push the metaphor a little further for effect, which is downright hilarious. “Thick Skin”, “This Sound”, and “One More” all push further into the 80’s/90’s grit-techno Skinny Puppy/Pigface/Clock DVA/earlier Ministry bag of tricks to good effect (“Thick Skin” is right on politically and “One More” is one of the better tracks on the album musically). The beats are mechanical and the atmosphere is metallic, as Ty Rigby’s vocals shimmer and sliver their way through it all and Guy Fenech’s (along with Rigby’s) guitar work remains slice’n’dice. To finish it out, “Messages From the Right” is, well, what one would think, though it must be said that the targets of scorn are predictable at points, but all is still appreciated and appropriately comical and depressing. And clocking in at 12:20 (with the hidden track attached), “Electric Aesthetic Pt. 2” is New Order-ed and one of this reviewer’s favorite tracks on the album, especially given the completely unexpected nod to an Eno-esque piece that starts up around 8:45 or so, and really sends the album out on a peaceful, hopeful note. Nice.

In all, More or Less the Same is a damn fine album, with plenty of substance to back up the musical offerings. It’s got memorable sounds, politics, energy, and most of all: heart. This reviewer hopes that the Yellowbird is landing a local, affordable, all-ages venue near you soon. Check them out. Talk constructive. Get inspired and off of that infernal couch and go build a real scene instead of crying about the ones that came before. On the cover of More or Less the Same, two people sit surveying the ruins of what was perhaps a home or a city, or a civilization, one of them saying “Well…what are we supposed to do now?” Time to build on that wreckage, it seems, and venture forth into frontiers unfettered by the mistakes of the past.