Articles by Jared Dix
Music which hovers at the edge of your awareness, gently improving the atmosphere like the smell of baking or coffee brewing in the kitchen. Its shifts in sound are like light moving across a room, its hinted stories like blurred old photographs.
Mirrors is a woozy dreamscape of colours and textures buoyed along on slow burn, head nodding beats.
A multi-textured tapestry of treated guitar, laptop static and meditative drones combined and recombined to stunning effect.
Bob Log III is what you might call a consummate showman . . . He makes toast, hands out balloons for us to inflate and then stamp, and fills a large inflatable duck with Bucks Fizz before passing it among the crowd.
This album sees them grow more confidently into their own skin, kicking any thoughts of second album jitters to the kerb and stomping on their head.
Oh, it’s so shiny. Sleek and gleaming like an airstream trailer in the afternoon sun, intoxicatingly elegant. It has a kind of perfect, crunchy, early 80’s power-pop-punk sound, everything up front but with space and light around it, hard and bright and clear like crystal.
The sounds they have collected are mostly as blank as plastic fragments washed up by the tide, yet they carefully collage them into colourful and revealing tableau.
Hits you with a combustible mix of emotion, abjection and simmering violence.
Oozing Wound look around in dismay at the general levels of human stupidity, shake their heads and point and laugh the bitter laughter of the disappointed. Vitriol for all!
Environment is a cold and empty warehouse, a ghost of industry. A space evoked through the tiniest of sonic details, an intangible presence.
Proper taste the lasers, brain melt, acid wonk to put a manic grin on your happy idiot face. Damn, but it feels a long time since I heard any techno that was actually exciting, you know?
Nothing Head is Sabbath heavy, AmRep ugly but not as suffocatingly oppressive as a lot of doom can get. If you like this kind of thing you should definitely put this on. Just a soon as you get back from the all night garage.
Musically Teeth Of The Sea are not sat at home listening to Space Ritual again, they’re tearing across the universe in an unlikely spaceship made of sound and light and fuelled by almost anything they can find. Wraith may well be their best yet, but it also suggests there’s still greater things to come.
Warm and lush, filled with swooning songs of regret and renewal.
The work of a band at the peak of their powers, We Love You is bright and brilliant.
We’re watching a performance by a piece of sculpture that might not be either of those things. It fills and animates the space but it’s possible to move your attention across it and appreciate it in different ways depending on which speaker you’re stood next to.
How does he do it? We should be making plans to save Robert Pollard’s brain for science, if it’s not already preserved by what made Milwaukee famous.
The sure and familiar footsteps of the piano guide us down echoing hallways of filtered field recordings and radio noise.
Seven Horses For Seven Kings brings a new set of widescreen, richly-layered sonic abstractions from Black To Comm that travel on darker, angrier roads than previous.
The result of Chalmers getting out and communing with the forest spirits is an evocative set of multi layered and textured pieces.
About midway into ‘Back In The Room’ they fully take flight, a massive, shaking whirl of sound that surrounds and lifts you rather than simply flattens you with volume.