Specs & Pricing

Music
Rock etc.
Haino and Acid Mothers Temple, Boris prides
itself on adapting to varying approaches and
chameleon styles. Adding to the intrigue are
its highly sought-after, limited-pressing discs
that document everything from drum-free
concerts to arthouse-film soundtracks.
Altar contains elements of each act’s
trademark sounds, and in step with both
artists’ mindsets, forages into unexpected,
fresh-growth areas of the black forest.
The sonic experience is equivalent
to that of a deep-sea expedition, the
contrasting compositions evoking sunless
environments where predators lurk in
search of gruesomely camouflaged prey,
the netherworld a mysterious place where
struggles for survival occur amidst serene
beauty. Boris and sunnO)))’s shared love of
frequency-diving, bottomless bass, resonant
feedback, and endless decay are the common
denominators in creating ominously bleak
and deceptively hypnotic landscapes.
The foremost movement of the opening
“Etna” functions as an awakening of a
slumbering beastie, waves of rust-decaying
chords humming in the background before
teaming for a flurry of action. The entrance
of chain-rattling effects, drum volleys, and
smashed gongs stir what’s escalated to a
battle for warrior supremacy, the bloodbath
ending after a distortion bomb sails in from
overhead and destroys its target. Conversely,
“N.L.T.” delivers mystical enchantment via
tonal vibration, the eerily floating drifts
recalling a priest waving an incense-filled
canister as he walks between pews. Akin
to reports of aliens landing in a cornfield,
the music feels invisible and yet leaves a
decidedly distinctive imprint.
Such understated tactics continue
on “The Sinking Belle (Blue Sheep”), a
gorgeously barren free-folk ballad that
may jolt fans accustomed to the artists’
probing of the other extreme. Guest Jesse
Sykes’ breathily soft singing is ethereal as it
hovers over carefully picked notes, reflective
piano passages, and a space-capsule-travel
score that may be the ghostliest piece ever
performed by musicians celebrated for their
wraithlike sound. The sheet-metal-flattening
“Akuma No Kuma” is also graced by
vocals, though Joe Preston’s are psychedelic
and filtered through a vocoder, befitting a
suffocating composition that marches like
Darth Vader. The sound of steaming lava
crawling down a mountainside, “Blood
150 December 2006 The Absolute Sound
Swamp” is a classic meeting of two forces:
Boris’ phlanged licks play off of sunnO)))’s
groaning blues in an inspired display of
seismic riffing and methodical control; the
ampere-rich currents impede the reluctant
tempo flow, inducing wintry chills.
Sonically, Altar thrives on juice. SunnO)))’s
dependence on texture, build, sustain,
vibration, and wattage ensure that the
recording is crammed with inner details and
eggshell subtleties. Increasing the volume to
maximum levels reveals a literal physicality
and visceral punch that plumb subterranean
regions of the low end, while howling
frequencies force one to wonder how many
amplifiers were required to produce such a
storm. There’s not much of a high end, but
midrange, depth, and impact are stunning
enough that the listener may want earplugs
at the ready and furniture bolted to the
floor. Suffice it to say that Southern Lord’s
impeccable vinyl pressings rival the very best
in the biz.
Bob Gendron
Further Listening: Fushitsusha: Live;
Earth: Earth 2
TV on the Radio:
Return to Cookie
Mountain.
David Andrew Sitek, producer.
Interscope 7466.
TV on the Radio’s sophomore album is as
terrifying as it is ambitious, drifting through
the aftermath of massive floods and
bombed-out war zones. “Try to breath, as
the world disintegrates” sing Kyp Malone,
Tunde Adebimpe, and guest David Bowie
on a show-stopping “Province.” “Hold your
heart...as we walk into this dark place.”
The Brooklyn-based band heightens this
anxiety with a psychedelic wall of sound;
guitars rise like 20-foot storm surges;
keyboards mimic trains careening off-track;
drums hit with the impact of bunker-busting
warheads. Album opener “I Was a Lover”
sets this anything-goes tone, combining
Middle Eastern strings, muted horns, and
waves of electronic feedback that buzz like
highway traffic.
This is the effort many expected of the
quintet after it stormed out of the gate in
2003 with the Young Liars EP, a stunning
debut that found the collective mixing
and matching genres with surprising ease;
witness the gospel-inflected, a cappella
cover of the Pixies’ “Mr.Grieves.” The act’s
first full-length, the disappointing Desperate
Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes, was a significantly
tamer affair, as if the constant accolades
had drained the band of its ambition. Cookie
Mountain is a dramatic return to form, the
band dabbling in everything from drone
rock to afropop to psychedelia. Adebimpe
and Malone still sound like an interstellar
barbershop quartet, their voices intertwining
to create harmonies that are at once
beautiful and unsettling—a feeling now
matched by the music. “A Method” begins
with handclaps and a lonesome whistle
before piling on howling voices, stampeding
drums, and an unnerving spectral chime that
resonates like the warning bell at a railroad
crossing. “Let the Devil In” is a rumble in
a junkyard. “Wolf Like Me,” all propulsive
drums and the hornet-swarm guitar, is a
midnight drive through a seedy underworld.
The production matches this dark, dense
feel, the separation between instruments
sometimes blurring to the point that none
exists. The decision seems deliberate,
tensions building as instruments rise and
fall. On one song the drums disintegrate
into static; on the next they connect with
drywall-pulverizing authority. The feverish
sonic backdrop wisely cocoons the rich
vocal harmonies, almost suggesting that
hope can flourish even amidst destruction
and decay. Andy Downing
Further Listening: Brian Eno: Taking
Tiger Mountain (By Strategy); The
Beta Band: The Three EPs
Bound Stems:
Appreciation Night.
Tim Sandusky, Evan Sult, producers.
Flameshovel 037.
The emergence of interesting new rock
bands continues unabated. While no one
knows which ones will endure, it’s sure fun
hitching along for the ride. The latest to grab
my attention is the Chicago-based quintet
Bound Stems. On Appreciation Night, the