Catching The Waves

Unregulated Nuclear Power Can Be A Good Thing

 

CTW tends to stay away from that big yellow thing in the sky unless it comes in the form of a five-track minimal EP. As luck would have it, Bertech's The Sun, released on Spanish audio/video netlabel Miga, is just that thing. What are the odds?

The EP starts with the title track. The introductory bars to any dance track always fill me with fear - is this going to be yet another tired, uninspired, four-to-the-floor, will-this-ever-end dance track, bereft of interest, groove and personality? Fear not. The Sun rises to the occasion. Heh. The track's simple drum track is augmented by a plethora of beeps, tinkles, pops and other sundry noises resulting in something that is booty friendly yet titillating to the ear.

The flecks and tics of Blocked create a metronomic soundscape that should be as boring as basketball, but Bertech keeps rearranging his minimalist elements in such a way that the track remains upbeat and enticing. Like the other four tracks, it feels detailed, textured and craftsman-like. Cemento Negro somehow manages to be an attractive listen despite consisting mainly of a hectic bass and kick drum combo, a hi-hat, and reverberating thumps and sweeps. It's a relentless, highly competent track whose compact sound will keep exhausted dancers shuffling around the floor even though they know the last bus home is due any minute.

Bon Voyage is a roller. An understated, bubbling bass keeps things moving while acidic synths and filter sweeps par-tay. Lastly, arpeggiated synths, a tight beat and a bass as sturdy and reliable as a company car mean that Crema Caliente epitomises the whole EP.

Listening to Bertech's breakdowns is like sucking on a lemon sherbet; the more you do it, the sweeter it gets. He ramps up the white noise and then returns a stripped-down, pristine beat to the dance floor so smoothly and funkily that it doesn't get tiresome. If this very professional album was a doorman, it would be well-dressed, polite, friendly and ex-special forces.

Bertech - The Sun (link to individual mp3s and zipped album)

Bertech on MySpace

Miga audio/video netlabel (Lengua española y inglés. Gracias!)

It's got a wonderful defence mechanism...

Listening to minimalism always makes me feel as though something weird is happening. It's music, but not as I know it. Tom Ellis's Switched Off EP, just released by Berlin netlabel Pentagonik, is strange. Different. Alien. It's like hearing a Martian watchmaker count sheep in his sleep.

The opener, Switched Off, is switched on from the very start, abruptly dropping the listener into a soundscape that could only be minimal: hardly any melodic content, precious little development, and an all-pervading rhythm made up of dry, short sounds. Snippets of piano flirt with spoken vocals and thus lend a jazzy, naturalistic feel to what would otherwise be a robotic listen.

Slim is reminiscent of what little Richie Hawtin I've heard. The beat is easy to dance to, but it's the barely noticeable synths and ticks and taps that give it that unmistakeably "minimal" flavour. The slurred, whispered vocals make it an intriguing listen.

Sixty One Be has a guitar-ish riff that tries to break through the super-detailed beat but fails, becoming a rhythmic element instead of a melodic one. Again, it's only after a while that you start to notice the subby, bubbling bass, so subtly is it wrought. Unlike that last sentence.

Beginners is minimal with an ambient slant; the dancefloor rhythm is still there, but background hisses and crackles and ghostly vocals lend the track a more human air than the rest of the EP, until the final minute ends in a sparse 4/4 beat, ideal for any DJ who wants to throw it into a mix.

I'm sure the whole EP will see the light of day gloom of night at minimal clubs everywhere. The precision and attention to detail is deeply impressive; more than that, Tom Ellis's exploration of jazzy, funking minimalism is a chunk of fun. And if you think that's difficult to say, remember that he comes from Wales, the land of vowels and phlegm. (He's also a co-founder of Trimsound netlabel, so is obviously an all-round good egg.)

Repeated listens will reveal more and more detail in these tracks, not least because their bit rate is an exemplary 320 kbps, but unfortunately this means that the mp3s are large. Pentagonik have thoughtfully provided the option to download individual tracks so those without broadband can still hear the music. It might be an idea for Pentagonik to offer the option of choosing a lower bit rate so that minimal aficionados on dial-up get to hear Switched Off before nature ensures their heads will no longer need shaving. Failing that, visitors to the label's very snazzy website can pretend to be a DJ on its ultra-cool home page. Now you're curious...

Tom Ellis - Switched Off EP (link to individual mp3s and zipped album)

Tom Ellis on MySpace

Pentagonik netlabel

Campanologists Rejoice

My last review raved about an album that hit the net in, um, 2003, so as compensation here's something that's just appeared, mewling and puking, in the maternity ward. Foolk has released an EP with five remixes of Bells, a track from his new album Red Pills For Daddy, soon to be released on the Deadred label. CTW isn't the type of website that reviews all the latest netlabel releases (I'm too lazy discerning for that), but Foolk's Bells Remixes EP is definitely worth a listen. You can hear the original track at Foolk's MySpace. So, from the top:

1. Bells (Abuse/Rain & Hail Mix) - a rolling bassline and breakbeatish drums greet gently descending synths and blend with a bit of chopped guitar. We're off to a good start.

2. Bells (Karaoke Tundra & Peto Tazok Remix) - I'm guaranteed to love anything with the words Karaoke and Tundra in it, as I've said before. But curse my monolingual ways - all I can make out are those two words in the characteristically mad-as-a-hatter chopped vocal. Did Mr Tazok have to place KT in a straitjacket in order to finish the track, I wonder?

3. Bells (Millex/Latin Lover Remix)  - Here your ears get the old "kick/snare/kick/snare/here come the trancy synths" treatment. Enjoyable, but it fades out just as it gets going.

4. Bells (Milos 120 Remix) -  Hmm, let's see. *takes a swig* Ooh, glitchy, moody. No, wait, *sluices around teeth* here's a kick and a snare and *makes disgusting sucking noise* I'm getting some some bit-crushing and a taste of elderberry. Hey, it's minimal! *refuses to spit out* What's more, the tiny little pops and clicks create a melodic soundscape. *swallows mouthful and looks for more* Minimal fans might have heard it all before, but I found this remix to be an absolute treat. It feels futuristic. Excellent production, too. *hic*

5. Bells (Ear Drum Kru/Ring The Bell Remix) - Steel drums, a screaming James Brown - from Think (About It)? - and a sampled, silly vocal. What's not to like? It's a jolly dance-pop track that leaves me reflecting that the whole EP has put a smile on my face.

All of these remixes approach the one track differently, thus avoiding the curse of the "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" remix that makes you wonder why the remix was attempted in the first place. This is a fun, free EP that has piqued my interest in Foolk's forthcoming record. I hope it does the same for you.

Foolk - Bells Remixes EP (zipped album)

Deadred label

Foolk's website

Foolk on MySpace

Neither Do I

Brad Turcotte's album title is disingenuous. He knows that getting free music publicised is difficult because there's so much of it. He's a canny operator whose excellent website reveals a keen understanding of the effect that the net is having on budding musicians who won't/can't deal with the big record labels i.e. get the music heard by giving it away for free and then make a living out of concerts, merchandising and subsequent albums. I first heard Brad's music because Reaper, the music production software, uses the first track on his album as its demo project; then I saw his album on Jamendo and wanted to hear more of his stuff. Like I said, canny. But first, a quick digression:

1. If you make music using Cubase, Logic, Fruity Loops, Sonar, etc., check out Reaper. It's programmed by the same guy who made Winamp and it's got a lot of the music production industry excited/scared. The software works beautifully. And it's free until you want to pay for it. Read the previous sentence again, think about it, and then go meet the Reaper.
2. Jamendo has over 8,000 free albums available to download - all you have to do is register. There's no charge, no hidden fee. The software works fitfully. The music is free unless you want to make a donation. Read the previous sentence again, think about it, read the first sentence again, think about it, and then take a large shopping bag to the musical equivalent of The Matrix.

The opener, Making Me Nervous, is the album's cuckoo, having pushed itself to the front so it gets fed before everyone else. The bouncy dance-rock is out of step with the rest of the mid-tempo album, but it's really catchy. And that's Brad's secret. I Don't Know What I'm Doing is the catchiest free album I've heard so far. Just a couple of listens and you'll grab the nearest broomstick/toothbrush/current squeeze and belt out lyrics like these:

"I wanna know where the hell the days go." (Look and Feel Years Younger)

"It seems you've mistaken me for someone who cares, I'm just a dirtbag under the weather..." (Dirtbag)

There's a bit of Beck in there, but I also get a strong whiff of Nirvana. The album betrays its one-man-band home-recording origin, but it still sounds good. Sometimes the vocal needs pushing to the front, and the drums could definitely do with beefing up and a little more variation (Bad Attraction, I'm looking at you). All in all, the album is crying out for a top-line producer to make the sound fly. Though it's still very good, you understand. God, I'm anal.

I like all of the twelve tracks but will mention only a few more for brevity's sake:

Fixing My Brain discusses neural correction and whether it should be stimulated by chemicals and/or love or whether one will lose one's sense of self in the process. Oh hell, it's got dreamy vocals and strumming guitars - just sing along to it. Sick As A Dog is a slow, restrained grind with multi-tracked vocals on top - just the type of thing Nirvana did so well. Give the track a course of vitamins via a top record producer and it would reach rock, well, nirvana. Overreacting, a life-enhancing message for Earth's depressives, sounds like something John Lennon might have written: heartfelt lyrics and a tune that stays with you. I'm not overreacting.

The album's strengths are the multi-tracked vocals, the quirky lyrics, the meaty acoustic and electric guitar riffs and, above all, the melodies. You will find yourself singing these songs in the street/bed/bath/lavatory. CTW's infallible test of quality - only the classiest songs get sung in the toilet.

There are more excellent things on Brad's website: free sound files for each song so you can remix them (a round of applause), remixes from fans, lyric sheets, the opportunity to buy the album in CD format or from iTunes, and t-shirts, etc. And Brad has a new album coming out fairly soon; I hope it's a huge success.

A good song is a good song. I Don't Know What I'm Doing is a good album. Why not suck it and see?

Don't look at me like that.

Brad Sucks - I Don't Know What I'm Doing (link to album at Jamendo)

Brad Sucks home page (there's a lot more here than just the music)

Reaper (if you make music on your computer, take a look)

Jamendo (English language version) (where you will find an insane number of free albums)

One and-a Two and-a Three and-a Seventeen

If you need something that will shorten the journey to work/school/college, and last just long enough for you to get dressed up for a night out or dance long enough to decide that you'd now quite like to sit down and sip a cold drink, here's something for you. It's hard to describe. It's something...something like...er...let me think...

It's Something Like Jazz by Foolk (formerly Foolcut), a Slovakian jazzy/glitchy wizard capable of dismantling a jazz tune and reassembling it into a chopped-up workout with hip-hop overtones. Listening to this three-track ep, you'll find yourself nodding your head and smiling, thus freaking out all your fellow commuters with the fear that you might be concealing some C4 explosive in your delighted mp3 player. Hey, at least one person on the dawn train to work will be happy. Progress, non?

By the way, the image at the start of today's article is the result of not having an album cover to post, and of taking the only suitable image on Foolk's website and enlarging it until it looks all pixelly and suddenly finding out that there actually were other images and eventually replacing my shoddy replica of Foolk's logo with a moody photo of the man himself and - ta-dah! - the pristine logo itself. As regular readers know, CTW is allergic to jpegs and electronic images in general. Sigh. My apologies to Foolk and Slovakians everywhere (for future reference only, because I have now redeemed the situation with the above photo. You never know when you might need a Slovakian get-out-out-of-jail-free card.) and the general public. And I love that buzzsaw/halo thing.

Still with me?

The title track is two minutes of saxophonic chopped-up jazz that bounces off a busy double bass, an organ and a piano. The drums are jazzy, edging towards funk and breakbeat. The whole tune has a terrific stop-start feel to it, which continues until the whole things slurs to a halt and you wonder how two minutes went by so quickly.

Glue Me features more double bass, funky drums, a staccato organ riff and a one-word lyric. It's strange how enjoyable it is to hear someone say "alright" between riffs and drum breaks. Foolk brandishes his electronica credentials mid-song by dropping a looped trumpet riff that pans from side to side and pitches up and down like a mad thing. Delicioso.

Push The Square pushes all the right buttons. It sounds as though a DJ invented a time machine and gatecrashed a 1950s trad jazz band's evening session at a club. The usual culprits appear - piano, double bass and wacky trumpet - but they get their groove on.

Foolk's style is subtle - his music is sort-of jazz, but with funky drums and a lovely chopped, jerky feel to it, with extraneous noises, a little light bit-crushing and mangled pitch and tempi to satisfy those of us who live in the early twenty-first century. The good news is that there are three other three-track albums on his website and they're all free to download. While you're there, follow the links and contemplate buying some of his stuff and/or going to one of his gigs. You'd be a foolk not to.

Oh, come on. I've been dying to say that.

Foolk - Something Like Jazz EP (link to individual mp3s at archive.org)

Foolk

Foolk on MySpace

Zoots You, Sir

CTW has fought Christmas, illness, the New Year, more illness and extreme laziness to bring you today's recommendation, Kurz und Klein, so stop complaining at the back there. Yes, you.

This five-track e.p. on Broque.de netlabel should appeal to jazz, swing, funk, big-beat and electronica lovers. The proof: a quick early morning blast of Kurz und Klein transformed CTW from a drooling, stained-underpant-wearing, bed-head victim into a zoot-suited, fedora-snapping hipster on his way to booty town with the funking ladies from across the street. Whether I changed my underpants I shall leave to your imagination.

The person responsible for my transformation, Nils Hoffmann, comes from Hamburg, and is a music teacher, concertmaster, chamber music composer, rock band member, a lover of all kinds of music and, all in all, is perilously close to being a Renaissance man. He is talented. I therefore hate him and love his music.

Sweet Man Like Me is a remix of St James Infirmary, a Dixie-blues standard made famous by Louis Armstrong, which Mr Hoffmann introduces to the 21st century with a shuffling beat and sampled chops and cuts. Is that Satchmo's trumpet slipping in and out? He would have loved this, I'm sure.

Next up is Goodbye Glamour, a superb remix of Candy Shop by Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire. It swings, it jazzes, it combines violin solos with scat vocals, it stops, it starts, it's ridiculously catchy...am I getting through?

Track 3 is the over-promoted Texan in the foreign policy committee. Popmusik is a minimalist pseudo-Kraftwerk dance number that has absolutely nothing in common with the other tracks save for a joy in the making of music. The deadpan vocal is a winner. I like it.

Cry Swing makes me cry for mama. The first time you hear it you realise you are briefly the centre of global cool. Many different minimalist elements weave around a so-idiotic-it's-genius jazz guitar riff, to which Herr Hoffmann adds synth stabs, chopped vocals and ingenious bridges that will make electronica fans throw their fedoras in the air. Distorted background strings and a bit-crushed synth sweep add to the fun. Halfway through, we're hit with a bassline that will be familiar to MGM pith-helmeted explorers hacking their way through the jungles and ruins of dastardly Johnny Foreigner circa 1935. But what makes the track is the timing - the whole e.p. is hypnotically rhythmic, but Cry Swing is syncopation in excelsis.

Old joke: An explorer, his guide and various luggage-carriers are lumbering through the jungle. They refuse to be unnerved by the tribal drums that have beat unceasingly for the past three days. Suddenly, there is silence and everyone but the explorer and his guide run away in terror.

"Whatever's the matter?" asks the explorer.

"It's the bass solo next," replies the guide.

(At this point I should insert a Paypal icon so I can reap some reward for the ripple of uncontrollable laughter I've sent around the globe. But I'm too nice.)

Why Don't You Do Disco is a moody, clever piece that slowly reveals itself to be a reworking of Peggy Lee's jazz/blues standard Why Don't You Do Right. Her voice and a jangly piano spookily emerge amongst a driving rhythm and countless electronica clicks and cuts, as though a ghost has successfully wormed its way through your electronica collection. Excellent.

No, I'm not sure about the cover either. You can't have everything, can you?

Nils Hoffmann - Kurz und Klein e.p. (link to zipped album and individual mp3s.)

If you get addicted to Kurz und Klein and you simply must have more Hoffmann musical heroin then visit Nils Hoffmann's own website and bask in his talent.

P.S. I don't really hate him, you know. It's called humour.

Any Colour But Beige

(I know, I know. It's the best I could do, ok? Graphics are a dark art and I'm wearing a blindfold.)

Theodor Zox's unimaginatively titled Pastels 1-4 consists of four tracks of restrained and tightly constructed minimal/microhouse, all of which come in at around the five minute mark. And no, I have no idea what microhouse is. Or minimal. I can barely cope with speech.

Pastel colours are wishy-washy but Pastels 1-4 is anything but. These compositions are tightly controlled; there are no raucous sounds or sudden changes of tempo, no vocals or obvious samples. Instead, lots of sounds are arranged around a basic kick-snare-kick-snare rhythm.

"Yeah, it's called dance, you nerd!" shouts the internet.

This should be as boring as corned beef, but because Theodor Zox has ensured that his timbres differ, it's a lot of fun to listen to; snares may rasp, kicks may thud, and synth pads may warm, but it's the extraneous sounds that seduce. Each track is flecked with soft and harsh sounds, reverberating basses, tight basses, bouncy synths and minimalist clicks and cuts.

Oker Motion starts off plain and simple (kick, snare, background synth) and becomes a welter of high/low-passed pads and clicks and cuts. It should be noisy but it's not. B.Script does the same thing but adds a bouncing bass and call-and-respond synths that make my head nod and my hips twitch. (Sorry about that mental image.) There's more of the same, if not quite so catchy, in Deep Fog, a track that grows on you. The EP ends with Dawn In Blue, a rolling, techy minimalist dance track that doesn't draw breath yet feels relaxed thanks to the underlying bass that rolls calmly underneath the clicks and cuts. The mix is cleverly handled; there's reverb but it sounds very tight, as though it's pressing up against the speakers. Nothing gets swamped.

Listening to this is like buying an expensive saloon car - it may not turn heads, but once you get inside you can't fail to appreciate the workmanship. Theodor Zox, a music-mad Dane, is an excellent chauffeur. (The economists among CTW's vast readership should note that yours truly is light years away from ever affording an expensive car. I take the bus because CTW likes to keep it, like, real.)

Pastels 1-4 is terrific. Download it and encourage the free netlabel scene. The album was initially released on Thinner as THN059 though I can't find it there any more (please contact me if I'm wrong).

Album (follow the link for individual mp3s and a zip file):

Theodor Zox: Pastels 1-4 at Archive.org