Family Underground - No Host. No Guest
Danish drone duo make improvised guitar music that would sound breezy if not under the harsh light of distortion, fuzz and steerage of passages straight into dark, forlorn places we were warned not to go. With that said, the twisting passages of seriously spooked guitar work float on a never-ending cusp of a great idea that shatters on impact into a thousand strung together fragments of its once ideal self. This spectral shattering creates shards of fuzz-laden naked guitar improvisation, a brilliant Krauty approximation of Hookworms on a dangerous level of sedatives and bluesy sky-ripping lines that ascend in archangel triumph out of a shimmering sea of angular guitar tones and overdubbed piano lines. The price of entrance is relatively high, but the rewards come frequently and intensely. Try not air-guitaring along to "The Original Freezecult" and all associated passages of transcendent guitar communalism and secret language sharing. Constant breakdown. Constant renewal.
Eye - The Future Will Be Repeated
The Future Will Be Repeated is a whiplash call-and-response record of some of the greatest New Zealand noisemakers around today. Recorded live, these tracks capture the dynamism of this supergroup of sorts. Equal parts sea of contemplative interplay between guitars, percussion and electronics involved in an animalistic courtship ritual that explores sweet, understated tones that pulse, scrape and fill in politely for each other when the chance to explore gaps in the composition arise and fuck-all displays of power and violence (but not powerviolence) on tracks like "Owls at Noon" that recalls the glory daze of other NZ and Ba Da Bing stalwarts Dead C. Frantic, but never unhinged, drumming races to an epic climax with a sea of distortion and fuzz while a single line of lead guitar distortion stays just above the fray like a nervous surfer trying to outrun the a wave much bigger than he intended to ride. That kind of works for this record. A sound this huge was never intended to be contained by compressing bits of data. Other, quieter tracks work quite well for the walk home, but something like "Owls at Noon" will always keep us watching our backs, realizing we are caught in something a bit too big for casual listening. "Skeleton Key", the aptly named sum of this records parts, serves to bring us back home. Equal parts contemplative improvisation with the ongoing maw of the cavernous potential to decimate always kept just at bay.
Peter Kolovos - The Wolf Should Ever Be Lone
Another, "you had to be there" albums of live recordings of a guitar player with almost superhuman dexterity, stamina and timing. Kolovos knows that exact moment of when to let a violent, shuddering, quivering line of deconstructed rummage sale of misfit tones bleed into rumbling seas of amplifier-destroying distortion that soothe the psyche in ways you never thought possible after watching/hearing a guitar take such abuse with welcome and full-disclosure on its telling. Or when to throttle back and lay golden, naked tones minister to the infirm. Kolovos reaches climaxes on "Seattle" and "Portland" that rarely change in tone but rely on the ancient hand-around-the-neck strangulation and mandible strength that led our ancestors out of caves and into the lone and dreary wilderness in search of prey, along with the schizophrenic crack-ups and piercing, blinding light and sound that came with revelation from on high from older, angrier gods.