So, Ardbeg has a contender for my heart when it comes to one of my very favourite things, single malt whisky. Not that their fucking outstanding Uigeadail has been toppled from it's podium (yet), but, over the past couple of months I've encountered a few whiskys from another Islay distillery, the fiercely untraditional Bruichladdich, and they've been consistently fantastic and most definitely worthy of yr close attention. The first one was Waves, which was salty, fruity and smoky with just a touch of seaweedy iodine and spice to lift it, shot through with just enough of that madeira cask sweetness, complex and long lasting and rather fucking lovely.
Next up was Rocks, which is, unusually for a single malt, finished in shiraz casks. It's also unpeated, unlike Waves, and the months in those red wine casks have imparted a beautiful ruddy hue to it which follows through to the nose. Fuck me this stuff smells good. Fresh raspberries and barley sugar with a slight note of the sea which all carry on into yr gob, first as the background to a torrent of malt and vanilla then coming through like a disco string section, filling yr mouth with spiced summer pudding and cream, outrageously smooth and never cloying thanks to that hint of coastal saltiness. I quite liked this, as you may have gathered, and compared to the considerably pricier Isle Of Jura 16yo Diurach's Own* we'd been drinking earlier it was on another fucking level in terms of depth, complexity and sheer deliciousness. It instantly became one of my favourite whiskys and further samplings have done nothing but reinforce my opinion. Fucking fabulous whisky, and for under thirty quid a bottle, insanely good value.
You may have noticed I haven't given ages for the first two whiskys. That's because Bruichladdich aren't averse to mixing identical recipe whiskys of different ages to create the desired expression. None of the malts in Waves or Rocks are more than 8yo as far as I'm aware, but you'd never know it from tasting either of these two excellent whiskys. At the moment, I'm enjoying a glass of The Laddie Ten, which, unsurprisingly, has been aged for ten years in American oak and is proving to be a rather fine, more complex and citrusy drop than the Waves or the Rocks and which I shall tell you about next time. For now I'm just going to savour it.
*Which was delicious, but somehow anonymous, Elixir is a superior (and cheaper) expression of Jura's strengths for me. And what's with the caramel Jura add for colour? I like my whisky to be the colour it comes out the cask. I know, fussy fucker.
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Monday, 23 July 2012
El Chocho
Right. There are a number of rants coming soon, on various topics, but that's not the point of this post. No, this post is to alert you good people to the terrifying fact that I have just opened a twitter account. Expect pithy record, gig and book reviews, gratuitous swearing, alcohol and chemically fuelled nonsense, booze recommendations, more swearing, randomness, sarcasm, miniature rants and, just for good measure, extra swearing. Plus anything else that I can cram into 140 characters or less. Just search on twatter for Drwommm, if y're so inclined...
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Nuevamente
Yes people of Brighton (and Hove), it's back. Same name, new venue. Louder, longer and later. Five quid, four acts, three of whom are very good indeed, and one who I've never heard but sounds pretty cool, plus myself and some other good people (not sure who, otherwise I'd tell yer) playing records at you at high volume; I believe the kids refer to this as "DJing"
Friday, 22 June 2012
αMT - La Banda Sonora
Can - The Lost Tapes (Spoon)
Sunflare - Ghetto Blast (Batshit)
Crystal Syphon - Family Evil (Roaratorio)
Ricardo Villalobos - Any Ideas (Perlon)
Tyndall - Traumland (Sky)
Ben Nash/Magic Lantern - Split (Blackest Rainbow)
Eleh/Duane Pitre - Split (Important)
Actress - R.I.P (Honest Jon's)
The Psychedelic Aliens - Psycho African Beat (Academy)
Otis Spann - The Biggest Thing Since Colossus (Blue Horizon)
Ultramarine - Acid (West Norwood Cassette Library)
Doubleheart - Salsa Apocalypso (Nonplus)
Jon Convex - Radar (Nonplus)
Conrad Schnitzler/Ricardo Villalobos/Max Loderbauer - Zug Reshaped (M=Minimal)
Kelan Philip Cohran & The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - s/t (Honest Jon's)
Chicago Underground Duo - 12° Of Freedom (Thrill Jockey)
Shockabilly - Colosseum (Shimmy Disc)
Cristian Vogel - The Inertials (Shitkatapult)
Jim Plotkin & KK Null - Aurora (Sentrax)
The Orb - Okie Dokie, It's The Orb On Kompakt (Kompakt)
Sunflare - Ghetto Blast (Batshit)
Crystal Syphon - Family Evil (Roaratorio)
Ricardo Villalobos - Any Ideas (Perlon)
Tyndall - Traumland (Sky)
Ben Nash/Magic Lantern - Split (Blackest Rainbow)
Eleh/Duane Pitre - Split (Important)
Actress - R.I.P (Honest Jon's)
The Psychedelic Aliens - Psycho African Beat (Academy)
Otis Spann - The Biggest Thing Since Colossus (Blue Horizon)
Ultramarine - Acid (West Norwood Cassette Library)
Doubleheart - Salsa Apocalypso (Nonplus)
Jon Convex - Radar (Nonplus)
Conrad Schnitzler/Ricardo Villalobos/Max Loderbauer - Zug Reshaped (M=Minimal)
Kelan Philip Cohran & The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - s/t (Honest Jon's)
Chicago Underground Duo - 12° Of Freedom (Thrill Jockey)
Shockabilly - Colosseum (Shimmy Disc)
Cristian Vogel - The Inertials (Shitkatapult)
Jim Plotkin & KK Null - Aurora (Sentrax)
The Orb - Okie Dokie, It's The Orb On Kompakt (Kompakt)
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
Blog De Ahora
Just a quick post to let you lovely people know that Now have a blog which can be found here and which is most informative. Do check the releases section as there are some rather fine records there which can be downloaded for the extremely reasonable price of bugger-all. Public service announcement ends.
Sunday, 20 May 2012
Mente Errante
Sorry for the recent dearth of postings, I've just been a little uninspired to write lately. But I seem to have regained the urge, so here I am. I'm halfway through a massive musicological appreciation of the superlative* reissue of Sleep's Dopesmoker - you can hear what notes Al's playing! it doesn't sound like slurry anymore!! - still, for my money, the benchmark against which all Doom/Sludge/Thingy should be measured and by an accident of fate, was reissued in the same week as my birthday, a coincidence which slipped me by but was pointed out as very appropriate by a number of my good friends. I'm quite sure I have no idea what they mean... Fuck me it's good tho'.
One reason I haven't written much is music. After the smoking demise of my old (hi-fi) amp, it's replacement** proved to be so fucking amazing that every time I've sat down to write, I've been dragged back to the sofa by the music, so clear and beautiful is the sound, unable to concentrate on anything else, and then found myself completely unable to remember what the fuck it was I was going to write. Well, at least I've got a good soundtrack as Europe sails inexorably towards the economic event horizon lurking somewhere in the near future...
Eleh's Radiant Intervals is filling the room at the moment. One advantage of the place I live in now, is that it's fucking old, proper brick shithouse military architecture. I mean, the place was originally part of the Royal Artillery and is located in the parkland the army used to train people to lug and fire massive battefield artillery pieces, so unless you throw open every window, there's almost no leakiness at all, and that means I can listen to Eleh at the correct volume level. In other words, stupidly fucking loud. I love Eleh's music, ultra-minimal, like a sub bass obsessed cross between Elaine Radigue and Alvin Lucier, and the way it works as much on a physical level as a sonic one, absolutely filling the listening space with palpable density, seemingly giving the air that it's moving weight and substance, a thick, gooey sonic treacle permeating every corner of the room, making the whole place thrum as the high end oscillations tickle yr eardrums like starlight twinkling through the atmosphere. You can almost see and taste the waveforms. And (Dopesmoker has this effect too) when it ends, it feels like the pressure in the room has actually lowered, like the molecules of the air itself have been allowed to fly loose again, the sensation that a huge, unseen presence has left the building. It's akin to the delicious way the air feels after a massive thunderstorm, uncanny and wonderful and unusual.
The other thing I admire about Eleh is their? her? his? insistence on, and ability to maintain, absolute anonymity in this multiply-connected world of ours. Eleh have been around for 13 years, put out a fair amount of records, and still no one seems to have a clue who's behind it all. No websites, no interviews, no photos, no names, no nothing except the music itself. I like that.
Also, did you know that if you watch four Resident Evil films in one sitting, yr intelligence level slips lower and lower by the minute. I had to ring someone to find out how to work the fucking kettle after the third film...
Anyway, enough of this rambling foolishness, I've just got the first series of Archer on blu ray and I feel like laughing until my lungs fall out.
And one last thing, Dr C, tak for de lægemidler og solbriller, du kender mig for godt.
*Not a word I bandy about with great frequency, and certainly not towards Southern Lord, whose shit to good release ratio clocks in at around 10:1 (and growing) these days. They did this right though.
**It's a Rega Mira3, in case you were nerdy enough to be wondering. I won't have any other make of stereo gear in the house (speakers excluded - it's Tannoy all the way for that side of things).
One reason I haven't written much is music. After the smoking demise of my old (hi-fi) amp, it's replacement** proved to be so fucking amazing that every time I've sat down to write, I've been dragged back to the sofa by the music, so clear and beautiful is the sound, unable to concentrate on anything else, and then found myself completely unable to remember what the fuck it was I was going to write. Well, at least I've got a good soundtrack as Europe sails inexorably towards the economic event horizon lurking somewhere in the near future...
Eleh's Radiant Intervals is filling the room at the moment. One advantage of the place I live in now, is that it's fucking old, proper brick shithouse military architecture. I mean, the place was originally part of the Royal Artillery and is located in the parkland the army used to train people to lug and fire massive battefield artillery pieces, so unless you throw open every window, there's almost no leakiness at all, and that means I can listen to Eleh at the correct volume level. In other words, stupidly fucking loud. I love Eleh's music, ultra-minimal, like a sub bass obsessed cross between Elaine Radigue and Alvin Lucier, and the way it works as much on a physical level as a sonic one, absolutely filling the listening space with palpable density, seemingly giving the air that it's moving weight and substance, a thick, gooey sonic treacle permeating every corner of the room, making the whole place thrum as the high end oscillations tickle yr eardrums like starlight twinkling through the atmosphere. You can almost see and taste the waveforms. And (Dopesmoker has this effect too) when it ends, it feels like the pressure in the room has actually lowered, like the molecules of the air itself have been allowed to fly loose again, the sensation that a huge, unseen presence has left the building. It's akin to the delicious way the air feels after a massive thunderstorm, uncanny and wonderful and unusual.
The other thing I admire about Eleh is their? her? his? insistence on, and ability to maintain, absolute anonymity in this multiply-connected world of ours. Eleh have been around for 13 years, put out a fair amount of records, and still no one seems to have a clue who's behind it all. No websites, no interviews, no photos, no names, no nothing except the music itself. I like that.
Also, did you know that if you watch four Resident Evil films in one sitting, yr intelligence level slips lower and lower by the minute. I had to ring someone to find out how to work the fucking kettle after the third film...
Anyway, enough of this rambling foolishness, I've just got the first series of Archer on blu ray and I feel like laughing until my lungs fall out.
And one last thing, Dr C, tak for de lægemidler og solbriller, du kender mig for godt.
*Not a word I bandy about with great frequency, and certainly not towards Southern Lord, whose shit to good release ratio clocks in at around 10:1 (and growing) these days. They did this right though.
**It's a Rega Mira3, in case you were nerdy enough to be wondering. I won't have any other make of stereo gear in the house (speakers excluded - it's Tannoy all the way for that side of things).
Thursday, 17 May 2012
Bestia Acuática Excelente Cuatro, Cinco Y Seis: Manos De Jazz
Behold the winner of the Semi-Translucent Seabeast category of the 2012 Benthic Jazz Hands awards. The runners-up were none too fucking pleased, as the photos below show:
Scale worms!
Coming soon: The most disgusting, unnerving creature this world has ever seen. If you don't like segmented legs and exoskeletons you will have nightmares...
Monday, 30 April 2012
Música Para Los Maestros De Reptiles
Portraits - Portraits (Important)
Mad River - Jersey Sloo (Shagrat)
Anna Själv Tredje - Tussilago Fanfara (Silence)
Herbcraft - Discover The Bitter Water Of Agharta (Hello Sunshine)
Herbcraft - Ashram To The Stars (Hello Sunshine)
Sunflare - Young Love (Cubic Pyramid)
Morkobot - Morbo (Supernatural Cat)
Boddika - Acid Jackson (Swamp 81)
Yob - Atma (Profound Lore)
Head Boggle - Headboggle (Spectrum Spools)
Moloko - I Am Not A Doctor (Echo)
Franco Falsini - Cold Nose (Spectrum Spools)
Chicago Underground Duo - Age Of Energy (Northern Spy)
Ufomammut - Oro Opus Primum (Supernatural Cat)
Mother Mallard's Portable Masterpiece Co. - 1970-73 (Cuneiform)
Shackleton - Music For The Quiet Hour/Drawbar Organ (Woe To The Septic Heart)
Duane Pitre & Pilotram Ensemble - Organised Pitches Occurring In Time (Important)
Bitchin' Bajas - Water Wrackets (Kallistei Editions)
Bitchin' Bajas - Vibraquatic (Kallistei Editions)
Tyndall - Sonnenlicht (Sky)
Mad River - Jersey Sloo (Shagrat)
Anna Själv Tredje - Tussilago Fanfara (Silence)
Herbcraft - Discover The Bitter Water Of Agharta (Hello Sunshine)
Herbcraft - Ashram To The Stars (Hello Sunshine)
Sunflare - Young Love (Cubic Pyramid)
Morkobot - Morbo (Supernatural Cat)
Boddika - Acid Jackson (Swamp 81)
Yob - Atma (Profound Lore)
Head Boggle - Headboggle (Spectrum Spools)
Moloko - I Am Not A Doctor (Echo)
Franco Falsini - Cold Nose (Spectrum Spools)
Chicago Underground Duo - Age Of Energy (Northern Spy)
Ufomammut - Oro Opus Primum (Supernatural Cat)
Mother Mallard's Portable Masterpiece Co. - 1970-73 (Cuneiform)
Shackleton - Music For The Quiet Hour/Drawbar Organ (Woe To The Septic Heart)
Duane Pitre & Pilotram Ensemble - Organised Pitches Occurring In Time (Important)
Bitchin' Bajas - Water Wrackets (Kallistei Editions)
Bitchin' Bajas - Vibraquatic (Kallistei Editions)
Tyndall - Sonnenlicht (Sky)
La Locura Italiano
I've completely lost my fucking voice. All that comes out is this weird bassy rasp which sounds more like a broken EDP Wasp than a human voice, accompanied by a sensation akin to some fucker forcing a cheese grater down my gullet. Still, laryngitis aside, I'm actually in a damn good mood, and not just 'cos my throat-soother of choice, Isle Of Jura Elixir*, is so fucking delicious...
One of the reasons I'm in a good mood is because one of my favourite bunch of doom-mongers**, mad Italian space cadets Ufomammut, have got their act together again after a couple of disappointingly Isis-esque (or fucking boring, if you prefer, as far as I'm concerned the two terms are perfectly interchangeable) albums*** and remembered what they're fucking good at, namely riffs that sound like the Sun collapsing, incomprehensible cosmic bellowing, and huge swathes of wibbling analogue synths. Colossally dumb space doom of the highest fucking order, and essential listening for connoisseurs of heavy and stupid. Oh yeah, it's called Oro - Opus Primum and it's on Supernatural Cat, in case you were wondering.
Also on Supernatural Cat are another bunch of marvellous loons who go by the names Lin, Len and Lan, and are collectively known as Morkobot. They may be Ufomammut under another name, they may not, I have no idea, mainly because they have metal cubes for heads, as you can see...
A bass, drums and synth trio, they specialise in angular, convoluted space/noiserock and vaguely remind me of an instrumental Supernova-era Today Is The Day, albiet without the gun fetish and raging misanthropy, and their latest, Morbo, sounds (a bit) like a King Crimson loving spider jamming jazz-rock hardcore with Tar§. In other words, very bendy and very good. Goddammit, they even chuck in lashings of slide bass, and apart from Mark Sandman and me, there really aren't many practitioners of that dark art around. And Mark Sandman's been dead for years, so if you crave the injured elephant call of bottleneck bass you know where to go. They're also so tight it fucking hurts, chucking odd time signatures around like it ain't no thang and they never, ever veer into the dread zone of prog toss. If you like NoMeansNo, you'll fucking shit yrself over this lot. Fucking brilliant.
Right. More later, but the painkillers are kicking in and my brain wants to take a power nap.
*12yo, sweet, fruity and honeyed. Get thee to a Sainsbury's and grab a bottle. You can't buy it anywhere else as far as I know.
**With the emphasis on the mong.
***Eve and Idolum. Really fucking boring. Unlike the preceding three LPs, Godlike Snake, Snailking and Lucifer Songs which are simply fucking sublime.
§Another brilliant AmRep band no one seems to remember any more.
One of the reasons I'm in a good mood is because one of my favourite bunch of doom-mongers**, mad Italian space cadets Ufomammut, have got their act together again after a couple of disappointingly Isis-esque (or fucking boring, if you prefer, as far as I'm concerned the two terms are perfectly interchangeable) albums*** and remembered what they're fucking good at, namely riffs that sound like the Sun collapsing, incomprehensible cosmic bellowing, and huge swathes of wibbling analogue synths. Colossally dumb space doom of the highest fucking order, and essential listening for connoisseurs of heavy and stupid. Oh yeah, it's called Oro - Opus Primum and it's on Supernatural Cat, in case you were wondering.
Also on Supernatural Cat are another bunch of marvellous loons who go by the names Lin, Len and Lan, and are collectively known as Morkobot. They may be Ufomammut under another name, they may not, I have no idea, mainly because they have metal cubes for heads, as you can see...
A bass, drums and synth trio, they specialise in angular, convoluted space/noiserock and vaguely remind me of an instrumental Supernova-era Today Is The Day, albiet without the gun fetish and raging misanthropy, and their latest, Morbo, sounds (a bit) like a King Crimson loving spider jamming jazz-rock hardcore with Tar§. In other words, very bendy and very good. Goddammit, they even chuck in lashings of slide bass, and apart from Mark Sandman and me, there really aren't many practitioners of that dark art around. And Mark Sandman's been dead for years, so if you crave the injured elephant call of bottleneck bass you know where to go. They're also so tight it fucking hurts, chucking odd time signatures around like it ain't no thang and they never, ever veer into the dread zone of prog toss. If you like NoMeansNo, you'll fucking shit yrself over this lot. Fucking brilliant.
Right. More later, but the painkillers are kicking in and my brain wants to take a power nap.
*12yo, sweet, fruity and honeyed. Get thee to a Sainsbury's and grab a bottle. You can't buy it anywhere else as far as I know.
**With the emphasis on the mong.
***Eve and Idolum. Really fucking boring. Unlike the preceding three LPs, Godlike Snake, Snailking and Lucifer Songs which are simply fucking sublime.
§Another brilliant AmRep band no one seems to remember any more.
Monday, 23 April 2012
Una Consulta
What twat at google redesigned the Blogger interface? You dipshits, you've managed to make it both less intuitive and less user-friendly. Thanks for that.
Thursday, 12 April 2012
Alto Tiempo
Three tracks into the new High On Fire album, De Vermis Mysteriis, something wonderful happens. After Des Kensal's mid-paced tattoo has rolled round a few times, without warning Matt Pike's guitar scythes in, the drums hang suspended for a heartbeat or two, and then... Fuck... I mean FUCK, there are riffs, there are High On Fire riffs, and then there's this. This song, Fertile Green, is everything HOF have threatened to be, a time-threshing relativistic switchback, hurtling unstoppably through the Metalverse, dragging and ripping space in it's wake. Take Devilution's time-bent riffery, ally it to Silver Back's outright fucking ferocity*, stir in a touch of that 'bars as long as the breath required' thing that you'd normally associate more with Conference Of The Birds/Pilgrimage-era Om than this Mach 10 dragster, add one of Mr Pike's most unhinged solos for a quite some time and you have this, an actual goddamn future fucking classic. Now go bang yr head.
*This LP is more in the Blessed Black Wings mould than the last couple. I am most definitely not complaining.
*This LP is more in the Blessed Black Wings mould than the last couple. I am most definitely not complaining.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
Río Loco
It's hard to express just how much I fucking love this song. It is, quite simply, a motherfucker*. I'd advise turning this up very, very loud and playing it at least twice.
Quick note for anyone whose appetite has been whetted by this and wants to check out Mad River's glorious first LP, do not buy the double cd reissue that's got the inferior second album, Paradise Bar & Grill, in the same package. The reason Mad River sounds so weird and wired is that it was accidentally mastered at slightly too high a speed, giving it a sharp, edgy, bad trip vibe, and someone decided to remaster the fucker not only at the correct speed, but in such a way as to dull the hugely trebly impact of the three (oh yes, three) guitarists, rendering one of 'em almost inaudible on some tracks. It's a fucking disgrace, and I urge you to seek out an unfucked-with copy.
*And the theme song of my late teenage years. But we'll say no more about that.
Quick note for anyone whose appetite has been whetted by this and wants to check out Mad River's glorious first LP, do not buy the double cd reissue that's got the inferior second album, Paradise Bar & Grill, in the same package. The reason Mad River sounds so weird and wired is that it was accidentally mastered at slightly too high a speed, giving it a sharp, edgy, bad trip vibe, and someone decided to remaster the fucker not only at the correct speed, but in such a way as to dull the hugely trebly impact of the three (oh yes, three) guitarists, rendering one of 'em almost inaudible on some tracks. It's a fucking disgrace, and I urge you to seek out an unfucked-with copy.
*And the theme song of my late teenage years. But we'll say no more about that.
Thursday, 29 March 2012
¿Rachel Khoo, Puedo Ser Su Espátula?
Anyone who's known me for some time has probably heard my "why rabbits* are the ultimate embodiment of evil" theory**. They've probably also noted my deep and abiding (and to some, inexplicable) love of Moloko, a band whose music has always instantly filled me with idiot glee and the urge to dance like a tit because they manage to be funky as fuck, poppy as all hell*** and deeply odd all at the same damn time, which is not an easy trick to pull off. And, of course, the incomparable Róisín Murphy§ was one half of 'em, and I fucking love Róisín Murphy. Not just because of that smoky voice which does things to me I'm not going to discuss in a public place, or that uncanny elastic phrasing of hers, the way she can twist and wrap a vocal line around a skewed rhythm section in a manner which is somehow percussive and slinky at the same time, but also for her utterly batshit lyrics, which I've only just realised, 17 years after the fact, are responsible for the aforementioned evil rabbit theory§§. And this, Killa Bunnies, is the song solely responsible:
Fear them...
*As in rodents.
**When my brain is idling, especially if I'm off my face, I've always enjoyed thinking a ludicrous idea right through to it's ultimate conclusion, just for shits 'n' giggles. I once came up with an entire religion based on analogue synthesizers and kittens purely because I was a bit bored and very, very stoned.
***And given that poppiness isn't really a trait I look for in music, or even respond to very often, the fact that Moloko did pop so fucking well that I love 'em all the more for it is a high and very rare compliment. Their first two LPs, Do You Like My Tight Sweater? and I Am Not A Doctor are just fucking wonderful and I won't have a word said against 'em.
§In the pub a few days ago, someone asked me which singer I would most want to collaborate should such a ludicrous possibility arise. Well, here's yr answer.
§§They don't make any fucking noise. I don't trust an animal that doesn't make a fucking sound unless you sit on it, especially when there's billions of the buggers running around under our feet in their hollowed out catacombs, they've got some sort of fluffy bastard hive-mind going and they're just biding their time...
Fear them...
*As in rodents.
**When my brain is idling, especially if I'm off my face, I've always enjoyed thinking a ludicrous idea right through to it's ultimate conclusion, just for shits 'n' giggles. I once came up with an entire religion based on analogue synthesizers and kittens purely because I was a bit bored and very, very stoned.
***And given that poppiness isn't really a trait I look for in music, or even respond to very often, the fact that Moloko did pop so fucking well that I love 'em all the more for it is a high and very rare compliment. Their first two LPs, Do You Like My Tight Sweater? and I Am Not A Doctor are just fucking wonderful and I won't have a word said against 'em.
§In the pub a few days ago, someone asked me which singer I would most want to collaborate should such a ludicrous possibility arise. Well, here's yr answer.
§§They don't make any fucking noise. I don't trust an animal that doesn't make a fucking sound unless you sit on it, especially when there's billions of the buggers running around under our feet in their hollowed out catacombs, they've got some sort of fluffy bastard hive-mind going and they're just biding their time...
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