Catching The Waves

Death By Bureaucracy

Memo to world: please invent a cure for manflu and computer problems in one easily gulped pill. Thank you.

Until such ailments are cured (probably around the time we all get our free jet-packs), the only thing that will get me out of the sanitarium and back on the net is good free music. Yes, you've guessed it. By the power of Greyskull the internet, I give you the following, available in liquid, capsule and mp3: Folk Hero by No More Music Komite, available from all good chemists and Miga, the highly competent netlabel from Granada. One of CTW's unwritten rules is not to review albums from the same netlabel in successive posts, but I've got a cold ib by dose, so I don't care. Besides, Folk Hero is delightful. Unlike folk music. Heh. Joke. Joke.

The first of the four tracks, Big Bag, begins with a synth riff that has a nursery rhyme quality to it. It's soon joined by a double bass, guitar and some of the most delicate sampling you'll hear this side of an Olympics drug test. Brief snatches of female vocal and what sounds like a barber shop quartet or old-time spiritual flit in and out of a soufflé-light drum loop and make me grateful for the internet's curative qualities. Following this is Elles, which could be described as prime acoustic electronica due to its crunchy snare, its summery guitar accompaniment, and a lovely twisted, choppy synth phrase that drops in now and again, all encased in a gentle, glitchy hip-hop rhythm.

The palette of bells/xylophones, banjo, accordion(?) and dreamy vocals in Kinki & Bike might fool listeners into enjoying a brief fling with the sounds described and then move cheerfully on, pausing only to straighten their clothes. Those with decent speakers will know it's all about the humming deep bass that breathes slowly in and out, providing aural momentum and the hint of a shotgun-wielding, straw-chewing father.

After an aggressive, slowed-down, backwards intro, At Your Convenience II morphs into something funkier, its laid-back trumpets encouraging the drums to get it on until the track eventually climaxes with muscular breakbeat. Quite a journey from the start of Big Bag.

No More Music Komite's release, despite being crammed with numerous samples, glitches and sundry noises, feels spacious and relaxed. The subtle panning and chorus(ing) allows the ear to take in a lot without suffering from sensory overload. Folk Hero wears a short-sleeved T-shirt and trendy sunglasses, and snacks on olives and chorizo. So it's definitely not folk music. Joke. Joke. Wooh. Tough crowd.

The group's name is officially "No More -music komite-" but I couldn't be bothered to type it properly. Sorry. Besides, they're only a talented collection of Spanish music and video artists, and it's not as if the Spanish ever get together as a team and do anything of merit...

No More Music Komite - Folk Hero (link to zipped album and individual mp3s)

Miga netlabel

Grand Theft Auto 5: Ambient City

I first heard Choc's work at the music production website KVR, where his Mimesis Algorithm knocked the dregs from my clay pipe. It's a click 'n' cut track, full of atmospheric glitches, with a sparse but effective piano and cello accompaniment. The clincher is the bridge, which is the sound of a modem firing up; in the context of the track, it's perfect. If you have a friend who likes classical music but isn't too keen on contemporary stuff, or vice versa, point them to Mimesis Algorithm. I don't think it's available for downloading at present, but you can still hear it at Choc's MySpace.

All of which leads me to Choc's highly downloadable four-track EP, Solstice Urbain, available at Jamendo. But first, a haiku:

8000 albums

All free, no hidden charges

Jamendo calls you

Learn to say this in one breath and repeat it to friends and acquaintances. Your procreation will soar as people discover how cool you are. Back to the review:

Choc is a Frenchman who works in signal processing, statistics and telecommunication, making him eminently suited, I would have thought, to produce ambient electronica. To quote the man himself: "Solstice Urbain is a collection of four songs composed in 2004-5 which reflect the universe of a fictive city." The album could be classified as "industrial ambient minimal" because intimate clanks (oxymoronic, I concede) and rhythmic thumps and thuds abound. Now, I could easily kick a dustbin downstairs and claim to be an ambient artist; the only difference between Choc and me is that he's composed addictive music whereas my effort would still sound like a dustbin being kicked down a staircase. I don't know how he manages to convey emotion through abstract sounds, but I'm happy to listen in dumb admiration.

First off, Choc gently prises your ears open with Resurrection industrielle. Imagine listening to the world's biggest glass harp being played inside a Tibetan monastery's boiler room and you'll get the idea.

Introspection digitale introduces a pulsing bass and a flapping (yes, really) kick drum with feisty interruptions from what sounds like a short-circuiting fusebox. Most high frequency sounds are filtered out, giving the music a muffled feel befitting the track's title. It ends with a heartbeat, Pink Floyd fans.

The third track, Chaos Indus-nat, finds us among leaking pipes, their echoing drips slowly increasing in frequency until we stumble upon a hard-working computer terminal. It's like exploring a sewage system, but in a good way. I release that last sentence under a Creative Commons licence. Do with it what you will.

Misanthropie Numérique follows a classic electronica recipe: glitchy drums, smooth synths and a bit-crushed ending. Like the rest of the EP, I'm sure it contains a subliminal "keep listening" message.

It's perfectly possible to listen to this album while cruising the streets of GTA 4's New York. But I warn you, you might have to pull over, switch the engine off and recline your seat. Let others investigate the city; you're busy exploring sound. And, although it's optional, you can always put something in Choc's parking meter. It might prompt him to correct the typo on his album cover. ;-)

Choc - Solstice Urbain (link to individual mp3s and zipped album)

Choc's MySpace

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

Eyedrops and cigarettes and absinthe are all a Tribble needs

It's the internet - you have to expect Star Trek jokes.

I dread to think how many man-hours BitBasic put into making the eighteen minutes of music that constitutes Grating Rainbows, but I'm glad they did: it shows.

The first track, Soap, is schizophrenic. Its first minute is soothing trip-hop; the second is jumpy, glitchy funk. It's followed by Left Here, a 60-second jazz-funk workout with lots of stretched vocal glitches and a chiptune-ish quality to the hip-hop beat, if that makes sense.

Emaze is more "traditional" breakbeat and drum 'n' bass with skittering beats, a hoovering bass, a seductive female vocal (no lyrics, just "aaahs") and mellow synths jazzing away quite happily.

Next up is Shroom. Yes, you're right: it's fungus-inspired hallucinogenic drum and bass that starts off tunefully and then descends into frenzied smash-cuts and edits.

Amen Break Steals The Show begins with a slow rock beat and a jittery sampled guitar but the pressure tells; eventually it has to give the world's most famous drum break a good seeing-to, but does so between juicy organ chords, which leavens the mangling and gives the drums something to bounce off.

Any track that can use creaking doors as an instrument gets my vote. Grating Rainbows, the funky and melodic title track, does all this and more before unearthing a wonderful organ riff that struts all over the accompanying glitches then departs the scene to allow breakbeat mayhem to commence.

Watch Less TV is good advice and is also the seventh track here. It's stuffed with countless cheesy audio snippets from British television that may or may not tell the story of a torrid affair. (These things lend themselves to adding your own narrative.) Is there anything more bathetic than snooker commentary? "Enter the king of the nineties" is my phrase of the week.

The album ends with Rest, which I am forced to call experimental electronica because it jumps from one style to another - breakbeat, nu-jazz, hip-hop, glitch, etc. - before settling for chill-out. A slowed-down and stretched vocal bids us goodbye and says "take care". Health and Safety would approve.

Perhaps the mix is slightly muddy here and there, but that may just be my cheap headphones and personal preferences. The sheer weight of effects, synths, samples, and the plethora of editing and arranging on Grating Rainbows is certainly impressive, but better still is the fact that the album is an enjoyable listen. Once the ear gets used to the melee of jump cuts and glitches, Grating Rainbows becomes a lot of fun.

BitBasic - Grating Rainbows (link to zipped album and individual mp3s)

BitBasic's website

BitBasic on MySpace

Monotonik netlabel

"Yes, of course I've got my trousers on...oh, damn."

Just when CTW's musical palate was getting a bit furry, along comes the musical equivalent of a wine-tasting session: DVA's Ringtones for Mobile uPhones released on Surreal Madrid netlabel. There are no two-hour ambient drones here - the longest track is a minute long; the shortest, eight seconds. The "songs" range from fruity reds to the driest of whites, and I swallowed them all.

DVA are a boy/girl duo from Hradec Králové in the Czech Republic, who combine electronica (beatbox, loops) with traditional acoustic instruments (saxophone, clarinet, cello, guitar, accordion) and, er, doll. That's what it says on their website. Vocal duties are shared, though the female vocals make my tummy feel funny; ah, the Czech Republic, land of luscious lager and exquisite cheekbones. The country's also renowned for its theatrical and folk music tradition, and DVA (Czech for "two") spring directly from that; they got together during a radio recording of an Isaac Asimov play and have recorded a soundtrack for the classic film, The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, and are deeply involved in making soundtracks for theatre performances. They are influenced by the circus, cabaret, beatboxes, the tango, electro-acoustic music, acoustic-electro music and "non-existent languages". Again, that's what it says on their website.

Instead of describing the various ringtones, I'm going to list the main elements of a few of my favourites - Nova Zprava: Cold War clarinets, Tyrolia Ring: yodelling, Alpen Ring: cow bells, Scifiring: jolly saxophone, Harmo Ring: low-fi accordion, Elektroring: glitches, Ping Ring: lots of drugs, Cirkusring: woodwind, Press Ring: typewriter. The last track, Trampring, sounds like a crazy campfire singalong - quirky humour is an essential element of this album.

Now, instead of forcing your phone to pump out the latest aural burp from the latest corporation, why not sluice your mobile phone's taste buds with an ambient ringtone, a dusty accordion ditty, or a glitchy, reverberating slice of out-there electronica? It's a very good sign that most of the tracks feel too short. DVA aren't afraid to experiment - you won't be able to guess what the next track will sound like. Music needs more people like them.

Train users of the world unite - you have nothing to lose but the disinterest of your fellow commuters.

DVA - Ringtones for Mobile uPhones (link to zipped album - it's a small download for dial-up users)

DVA's website

DVA on MySpace

Surreal Madrid netlabel

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

Bring Out Your Dead

I've just had to chuck a load of festering, maggoty breves and semi-breves onto a horse-cart that's passing down the street; every note longer than a minim has died from lack of use. I blame Kampion and his Invisible EP, released on Mexico's Filtro netlabel. Kampion is the alter ego of Guillermo Guevára, who forms half of the two-man electronica outfit, Duopandamix. Invisible is what might be called "glitch-funk". Not sure about the genre name. How about funktronica? Nu-jazz? (Yuk. "Nu" should be thrown into a wood-chipper.) Microfunk? Never mind, I'll leave it to CTW's six billion* readers to decide.

Kampion eases us gently into his sonic universe with Pirata, a stately groove that seems hectic because of the plethora of glitches that dance around the speakers while snippets of vocals provide the minimalist tune. Next up is Primaveral and its brutally chopped melody; if its fragments were any shorter the melody would become incoherent - it's amazing how little information the ear requires before the brain fills in the gaps.

Routes is full of polyrhythms, record scratches, and spliced vocals: all ingredients that tickle CTW's fancy. A modest bass pops up and ushers in the appearance of some very mild reverb and delay to fill out the track. Two-thirds of the way in, the track gets even catchier when a lovely (if you like that sort of thing), high-passed stab of white-noise appears in an impeccably groovy riff that sounds like a pastiche of futuristic car horns. Anyone who likes glitch, funk, IDM, electronica, etc. will enjoy and learn from this track.

The start of the title (and final) track, Invisible, shows that Kampion is not adverse to creating a dreamy reverberating soundscape only to slap it away with a glitchy, funky beat. My only quibble is that a kick drum/bass element is rather forward in the mix, so forward that my speakers struggled with it somewhat, but as the rest of the EP is an exercise in sonic expertise this may well be intentional.

This danceable music is unusual - there's hardly a bass line worthy of the name; everything sounds "trebley" but not piercingly so. Invisible's sounds are clean and spare with little sign of reverb or delay, so tightly are the snaps and pops packed. The rhythms are tight, funky, and garnished with a South American special sauce that adds a delicious swing to proceedings. The panning is excellent, with glitch breaks coming at just the right speed - quick enough to stay funky and slow enough to retain intelligibility.

This is a surprisingly gentle, good-humoured album that displays a high level of skill and inventiveness. Ah, free Latin electronica, how I love thee.

Kampion - Invisible EP (link to individual mp3s and zipped album)

Kampion on MySpace

Duopandamix on MySpace

Filtro netlabel

*potentially...

Lingers On The Palate

DJ Side is a Czech DJ who makes dubstep, grime and hip-hop. "All well and good, and we're very happy for him," I hear you say, "but what about those of CTW's enormous readership who don't want to nod their heads and consort with people of the opposite sex?" Fear not, O basement dwellers. With a surreptitious wink, DJ Side has sneaked an ambient hip-hop EP into CTW's coat pocket. You heard me: ambient hip-hop. Bittersweet Love is a five-track slice of hypnotic audio bliss, released on parole by those unstable people at Surreal Madrid netlabel.

Wikipedia defines dubstep as "distinguished by its dark mood, sparse rhythms, and emphasis on bass," which goes a long way to explain the soundscape you'll hear in Bittersweet Love. What's especially intriguing is the use of ambient sounds in hip-hop rhythms, though the glitches are set at such slow tempi that it's more trip-hop than hip-hop. Standing on the Olympic podium: 1. Lo-fi beats over lengthy delays and reverberations. 2. Deep bass drones. 3. Glitches.

The EP kicks off with Amb Part 2, wherein we discover an electric piano, a snare drum made of stretched white noise (sort of), and a distressed seagull strapped to a dub delay. Hey, it's how I roll. [/Americanese slang]

Clicks is just that, the sound of a dusty record with lots of panned clicks 'n' cuts. It sounds like a fireplace getting its groove on while an ominous, pulsing bass runs around the house and tries to find a way in. It's difficult to make such sparse elements engrossing, but don't worry - a Czech DJ is, er, in the house. Heh.

If the Cold War ever returns to Europe, D33P should be the soundtrack for its newly employed spies as they don mackintoshes, smoke far too many high-tar cigarettes and rendezvous in bombed-out buildings. Bell-like tones haunt the crackly, delayed clicks that run in and out of a lo-fi drum break. The bass sounds as though DJ Side parked a diesel engine in the corner of his studio, threw a thick tarpaulin over it and left it to run while he got on with making music. The track takes its time and thus gets under your skin. It broods. It's deep ind33d.

In Klear you'll hear giant filter sweeps, background thumps and a low, pulsing bass. It's rather like listening to distant warfare while the United Nations deploy a blue-helmeted click 'n' cut groove to keep things almost civilised. Like the rest of Bittersweet Love, it won't grab you on the first listen, but it's detail and rhythmical qualities might eventually win you over; it did me.

Metatron provides an optimistic-ish ending to our aural journey. A plain clap-and-kick beat overlays background noises and snatches of conversation before a muted guitar and lo-fi strings leaven the mix.

I'm not sure if there's much point listening to this fascinating EP on your/my standard crappy PC speakers because much of the intricate detail will be lost. It's definitely headphones territory; either that or play it late at night on a decent sound system. Your neighbours will love you. Trust me.

Perhaps someone will tell me where the album cover image comes from. Donning my deerstalker hat, I've deduced that it's from an Asian gangster film, and furthermore, my magnifying glass tells me that it might include the odd bout of fisticuffs or at least a sharply worded letter deploring misbehaviour in general.

DJ Side - Bittersweet Love EP (link to individual MP3s)

Surreal Madrid netlabel

DJ Side's website

DJ Side's MySpace