Oceanfire, the brainmachinechild of Keith Hill, follows up A Set of Songs Parts 1 & 2 with Exit / Rejuvenations, a gritty collision of electronic and space rock equally at home burning through atmospheres or tunneling through strata of your choice. With a vibe somewhere between a machine waking up to its own consciousness and a binary galac-tic securing itself to your cortex (the above mentioned hard lode) for the dig, Exit / Rejuvenations is exciting, elemental and incendiary. If you fly with the likes of vert:x (Hill being an occasional co-pilot), F/i, Vocokesh, grimy Hawkiwnd or even Medusa Cyclone, then there’s room in the airlock for you. After a brief entrance through the Exit, Oceanfire reaches apogee with the pulsing Tribes, which earns the title and then some. Tribal, relentless and beating with half machine, half biological unit heart, Tribes is the sound of those halves in piston unison, making peace where it’s deep. It’s tough, entrancing and invigorating. Elevations (which appears on Strange Fish 5) is all that as well, though going more for the throat firing up the space rock lobe until the skull-frame feels like it’s going to distort. As tenacious in its grasp as Tribes is, it’s brethren and bastard child both. Dystopia elongates out the electronics, intertwined with spoken word for breather and bridge to another launchpad for Metaverses. Pounding and direct, Metaverses is a bridge of another kind, forcibly spanning the chasms while again funneling the electronics and guitar crunch into a single-minded mission. It dissipates out before the hyper Rejuvenations re-ignites the boosters for additional thrust back into the more relaxed though energetic glide of 44khz (v.1). Electrons and strings vibrate in an almost Krautrock push that really shows how much control is in the pilot chair without sacrificing any of the spark and resulting gas giant fire coming from the engine room. 44khz (v.1) is the perfect example of Oceanfire’s knack for keeping a hefty dose of dynamics without resorting to a fire extinguisher to cool things down. Nearing the end, Reversed Reality heads the other direction—again—putting match to flame for an all-out space rock gravity escape, going full-tilt in a blaze of glory before finally winding down for the real re-entry. Nose and gear down, the brief Land has Atlantis ‘nautChristopher Ferguson bring us in for touchdown. After the trip before, this is one craft that’s been put through the ringer and come out the other side intact. There’s something to be said for flying sleek, but Oceanfire outstrip and outdistance most others with a vitality and grind that leaves the most aerodynamic and shiny eating their dust and choking on the vapor trail.
Be sure to check Exit /Rejuvenation’s prelaunch party with A Set of Songs Parts 1 & 2.
Had the honor of being asked to contribute some eye-candy to the Todd Parker and the Witches new release, Martians…even though I have no idea what I’m doing…but at least Parker does. You can read about it in an interview with Parker and get some info about Martianshere, and check out his ‘video album’ for Martianshere.
Not too long ago Fruits de Mer Records put forth the question, Whatever Happened to the Soft Hearted Scientist?Then proceeded to answer it on that sprawling overview of Cardiff’s Soft Hearted Scientists.What happened right after is anybody’s guess, but the important thing is what is happening now. And that would be False Lights. If you do a cursory poke on SHS, you usually get some reference to Floyd. Unfortunately, that’s become sort of a catch-all comparison these days. Most of that can probably be blamed on Floyd’s own sprawl that covers more ground than the casual consumer thinks. Since pigeon-holing SHS is as hard as putting Floyd in a box, it seems like a good place to start. There is a Syd/Floyd vibe…subtle, but there. From a slight nasal twang in some vocals, to a whimsical and skewed lyrical palette that touches on Pegasus, honey bees, and a giant squid, you can see where that comparison comes from. Even though it’s a surface comparison, it’s easy to do since it’s effortless. Which leads to our next point: False Lights is itself effortless. Each song, the flow from one to the next, is so organic and aerodynamic it’s even easier to overlook the craft and construction, let alone the playing. Infinitely hummable and as welcoming as an old comfy chair, False Lights is saturated with a warmth and intimacy that borders on narcotic. Country, folk, psych, 60′s psych/pop, pale prog tendencies…all tumble out. SHS are so good at executing it all it seems without agenda, which to these ears makes a point far beyond the love they obviously have for their alchemy. It drives home a commitment that is beyond the band, one that is aimed at songwriting, at music—all kinds—and to the wealth of influences they absorb into their own comfy chair. The deliciously U.K. aura they exude puts them in the circle of other pop-savants like Gorky’s, Super Furry Animals, XTC and…Syd…. Casually, of course. The synthesis of sounds eclipse genre by rendering categorization useless. The casual listener introduced above won’t see that. They’ll see the buoyant, spritely nature of some of the tunes and the lyrics as something tossed off. Get down in it and revel in a richness often not found in pop—good pop–and it quickly becomes obvious that there is much, much more going on…from being whip-smart and witty, to complex and impeccably crafted. Taking a partial clue from the title, and one in reverse, SHS shine with a light that is as inescapable as the lure of music…without one false note.
Panorama :: Soft Hearted Scientists :: False Lights (2013, The Hip Replacement)
Todd Parker and the Witches step out of the star chamber, and bring greetings from the red planet on Martians. Martians extends Parker’s hand even more from his ‘return’ on Greetings from The Star Chamber, using its launch pad while still building on his legacy with Tadpoles. It’s a darker album, embracing some ominous tones, but also tipping his hat to a love of pop, of all kinds, both aspects made evident on the admitted Cure-ish Zero Sum. A brooding outing, Zero Sum finds kinship with other moody cuts like the closer, Conduit. Wrapping arms around some throbbing, repetitive drone, Conduit isdeeply tied to Parker’s often big closing statements; Sunrise Ocean Bender from Tadpoles’ swan-song release Whirlaway, the indirect reconnection of Disconnect from Star Chamber. At the same time, it’s a definite new tangent, revealing more detail with each pass. Martians is far from a full-scale downer invasion though. Cuidado, Helium Breeze…cuts rooted in psych pop, but with a stronger loyalty to ‘song’ that frees them from being confined to a strict genre add more waves to the transmissions. In between, tracks like the outstanding Malacandra and the exotic Nakhla meld both sides into a pliant and elastic ensemble. As good as Star Chamber is—as a loose homecoming and album on its own—Martians feels more realized, more conceptually whole though there is none…sort of….That in turn makes Martians come across as more personal. Due partly to Parker approaching Martians as a coven of one as much as being a more current and vital application of where he is now, and how he got here…and there. The production is bubbly thick while paying respect to the space inside the spheres as well as in between them. Rich bass pops and bounces, animating Martians’ dynamics, especially grabbing your attention from the get-go on Malacandra. The bobbing and nodding also points the head toa New Order vibe, a band and, more tellingly, a time that had a big impact on Parker, even when buried under the psych fuzz of Tadpoles. Those kind of vapor trails and trace elements bind with where Parker’s head space is now lending Martians a sheen that’s not tied to one time, but still sounds of the now; familiar and fresh without being transient. If Star Chamber was Parker getting ‘back into the spaceship,’Martians is the sound of the cap’n enjoying the flight without the weight of destination’s payload. Go ahead, stretch the legs inside that tin can.
Parker put down his Tang recently, had an oxygen hit, took a breath and lent his insights to Martians and what makes them tick…and finally addresses the nagging “Seger Question” that has plagued the release of Martians.
How do you perceive Martians, in relation to your ‘return’ on Greetings? Continuation, new flight plan, synthesis…?
Greetings from The Star Chamber was me getting the rust off from sitting basically idle, musically, for a decade. My equipment, other than 1 or 2 guitars, was literally in storage since Tadpoles ended in 2000. So, those tunes were culled from about a 20 year period of unfinished demos, half-baked ideas as well as a few brand new things. Additionally, it was also a reunion with drummer Mike Audino and a renewal of a creative relationship that started the Tadpoles out as a band in the first place. So, there was rust there too. But, I felt like we shook it off with Star Chamber and I was ready to jump back into making music again, albeit in a modified way, essentially as a studio-only entity.
After Star Chamber, Mike proposed that we rework a very old Tadpoles cassette album that had gone unreleased called Beautiful Music For Ugly Children from 1989 (Retitled Evil Bliss for the Witches version). That was the first serious thing he and I did together back then and really led me down a life-altering path in that I moved to NYC to form the group with Mike and went on to meet my other collaborators in the Tadpoles, as well as develop a personal life there, being married, having a daughter. So, since he was into giving that album its “due” after all these years, we decided to go back in time and approach that album again as if we were heading into the studio with our 1989 brains and proceeded to cover ourselves almost note for note, sound for sound to the original cassette version, but with superior equipment and sound quality now. While it was a fun trip back to Weird Wonderland, it wasn’t representative of us currently.
So, It became important to find my modern voice so that the Witches project did not become an exercise in nostalgia for days gone by. As it turned out, it became obvious that Mike and I had wrapped up whatever unfinished creative business we had together through producing Star Chamber and Evil Bliss and we both decided it was time to move on once again. He made some wonderfully quirky videos for the Evil Bliss album that I hope more people get to see over time.
Martians is apparently where I’m at presently. All new songs, all written since Star Chamber. No old demos or rehashed tunes. Didn’t really plan it out, but went with my instincts and it developed song by song that ended up being the running order of the album.
They’re both your babies, both great records, but do you feel Martians is a ‘better’ album in the context of being newer material overall? More of statement than Greetings?
Thanks. I do think Martians is a better album and more of a pure statement than Greetings From the Star Chamber, which, while fun to make, is more of a hodgepodge of styles and sounds from a very wide period. Some good stuff on there, though. I think Disconnect from Star Chamber is one of the best songs I’ve ever recorded. Technically, it was a Tadpoles’ demo from the early 90′s that never saw the light of day, so I finally gave it some light in this new version. But, it was of that era. With David Max playing bass on it, Mike on drums, you have essentially the same core of musicians that recorded the Tadpoles first album, 1994′s He Fell Into The Sky. Martians is probably the most personal album I’ve done. It has little to do with Martians of the little green men variety. But, I love the sci-fi imagery, and possibilities for metaphor in the theme.
Martians has a definite darker tone, aura—Zero Sum, Conduit—but also feels more personal this time around. Was that just a natural tact that emerged on its own, or a conscious choice?
Yes, darker at times. Though there are also a couple of pretty poppy tunes in Cuidado and Helium Breeze. Cuidado even has a real chorus! The personal, probably introspective side to this came naturally, I think, from working totally on my own this time. I haven’t done that over a whole album since way back when I started making songs with my 4-track in my college apartment in the 80′s. Solitude can sometimes bring that 3rd eye introspection. And without the dark, there is no light. So, I acknowledge that too. I also no longer write specifically with a band in mind that needs to play the tunes like I used to do in Tadpoles. So, there are more of the keyboards and instrumentation choices that I used to use back in the 80′s that I stopped using so much with the Tadpoles guitar-based assault.
There’s a definite flow to the record, especially leading up to the close, Conduit. How important is sequencing the record, how much decides itself? Do you think taking the time to sequence a record deeply plays into the overall tone, or message, of the record? It seems pushed to the side frequently these days.
The art of the album is unfortunately becoming a lost art in the digital download era. But, it’s certainly not lost for everyone, and not lost for me. I still appreciate a well-sequenced album that takes you somewhere, rather than a front-loaded selection of individual tracks. Not that every album has to be a concept album per se, but without getting too hippy-dippy here, there is an energy level throughout a well-considered album song sequence that ebbs and flows and directs the listener’s mood and perceptions. I think that as artist, you want to have control over that. Part of the new social network stuff that perplexes me is the idea that artists are having fans vote on song sequences, album titles, whether a song is good or not, whether it needs more or less bass, etc, all in the name of “engagement.” Even Devo, whom I respect immensely, did that for their last one. See, I’d rather hear a Devo album the way Devo wanted it, not the way a random group of fans wanted it. I think they ended up coming to their senses and released their own version as the standard. Anyway, I’m happy to see the resurgence in the interest in vinyl releases as the idea of song sequence was very important on vinyl due to the limitations and the idea that you have essentially two opening tracks, for Side A and Side B. Even though vinyl releases have not been in the limited Bakery (Parker’s label) budget, I’ve always approached all the Tadpoles and Witches stuff that way in terms of sequencing. There is a first half of each album and a second half.
Is there a message with the emphasis on Mars?
Probably a theme I’ve worked on throughout my whole career … kinda out there. On one’s own. Alienation. That sounds kind of dark or negative, right? But, there’s the other side, too. Traveling to inner and outer destinations unknown. Exploration. While waving your Martian freak flag high. I can embrace both. Tadpoles albums, He Fell Into The Sky and Far Out come to mind with those themes. Whirlaway, too. And, I suppose I was locked away for a decade in some far off Star Chamber before sending the Greetings that I was still alive in 2010 when I got back into the spaceship.
After being in the game for more than a few plays, how much impact does what’s going on in the music universe play into where you’re at? Or does that tenure allow you to disconnect from that kind of pressure, or perceived pressure?
At this point, it’s all the bonus round for me. With my work with the Tadpoles in the 90′s, I really achieved what I had set out to do with my music to various degrees. Made a bunch of albums that I’m really proud of, that people still discover and enjoy. I played with a lot of excellent musicians, collaborators and partners, many of whom are still dear friends. I played a bunch of shows all over New York City, did some touring on the east and west coasts, and we presented ourselves as we intended to the best of our abilities and resources. So, really, that was the career. Jumping back into this a few years ago has also been very gratifying. With the technology available now, with the internet, with the social networks, I can really just focus on creating what I want to create and leave it at that. I don’t need anything else from the music universe. And, I’m happy to drop whatever I’ve got cooking into the current cosmic musical stew and I’m satisfied if it has the opportunity to reach some people who might get something from it. And, it’s still fun to meet some of these new people who like what I’ve been serving up.
Was it a conscious choice to release Martians on Bob Seger’s birthday? How do you feel about accusations of coattail riding?
Ha, If I had known that you were going to premiere Martians right on Seger’s birthday, I would have flown over to Richmond and set up a Chooglin’ party right there at the station so I could lead the midnight staff in an accapella rendition of Katmandu. Hey, that’s not a bad idea anyway. Maybe I should do a Kickstarter for that…
Martians is available via BandCamp and the usual suspects. Green or otherwise.
With the close of their Totem Trilogy, Master Musicians of Bukkake finished a journey of one kind. Far West begins another. Possibly the distances travelled and the lessons learned left MMB a little weary. No strangers to sprawl—or patience—Far West has a shift in the stretch, a different residue between the muscles used. Maybe it’s simply that a new introspection is the logical next step. Whether west or any other compass point, you’re moving, changing position and fulcrum. It’s natural that the mind should follow the body…to a point, of course. Whatever your choice of absorption (and there are obviously many, many more), Far West remains true to MMB’s wandering spirit, pushing the side roads of this trip into more progressive territory that dips as heavily into the folk pool as any other, all with their trademark enigmatic drama. The pulsing haze layered with choirs and synths that simultaneously exist in cathedral and catacomb quickly becomes fog on the moors during festival, a pageant ring of clouds around the mountain top that threaten to release as much as offer release. A shamanistic urgency co-exists with the inescapable universal that there is no finish line, no matter where your party’s caravan is leaving footprints. White Mountain Return makes that clear in title alone; the return doesn’t ensure bringing you back to the exact same point you departed from. You changed on your trek, why wouldn’t what you left behind have changed, repositioned itself as another starting point? It’s a heavily cinematic entry, feeling like you’re joining a campaign and story that’s already been in progress for ages, its departure point long forgotten and possibly unimportant. Working into thunder-burst or conflagration by the end, the return begins in earnest with γη-νομος / GNOMI. This phase of the processional has as much compelling priority as any, but the marching gently sways in a tolerant sing-song that breaks for a Kosmische intake of breath that offers reflection, but also signals like a lantern the further expanse ahead, around the bend. Not only manifesting the tribal nature of MMB, Arche sonically conjures up the physical aspect of the trip, the actual footsteps that have to make the impression…Once the march begins though, the legs and cogs set into rhythm, there’s ample room and time for the mind to leave the determined autopilot of the body…for awhile…Both meet up again at the opening offered by Cave of Light: The Prima Materia. Symbolic of Far West’s circular duality, Cave is both destination and entrance, blurring not only the definition of each but rendering it pointless … ‘dissolve your body …’ You Are A Dream Like Your Dreamer: The Dark Peace is where the cave blossoms into the largest inner chamber, vibrations coaxing and caressing the walls of light; pause and planetarium. The bearing comes around with the closing Circular Ruins, winding down the compass to rest and at the same time urging ‘wake up, wake up, you sleepers…’ It’s not really over, but in the context of the physical conduit of delivery things come to a close. The title not only restates the inescapable ‘circular,’ but implies that once you reach the destination you’ll find someone has been that way before, or at the very least passed through leaving their mark before starting again themselves. Like you’ll no doubt do. It’s a languid, shimmering dream haze that unfocuses the edges, but still gives a hint of form if not summation…so far.
Dramatic enough, for you? It’s difficult not to be. A big part of that is the appeal of Far West, and MMB themselves. As much as it’s rooted in tradition—sonically and spiritually—Far West is still a vehicle for escape, pure and simple. It’s a widescreen projection that hits the screen from in front and behind, storytelling that’s illuminated and illuminating. Much more so when you invest the time to surrender to it and enjoy the ride as well as participate in it. Exactly what you make of it, the importance you place on it, is your personal mythology. It just happens to be part of a much more extensive one, a bigger story that’s still going on in the Far West.
White Mountain Return :: Master Musicians of Bukkake : Far West (2013, Important Records)
Alicante’s favorite Sons of LightPyramidalreturn fromDawn in Spacewith new transmissions on their follow-up, Frozen Galaxies. Rather than coasting on the vapor trail left by Dawn in Space, Pyramidal re-ignite the boosters, taking their blend of space and psych rock further out—for them and us—by pumping in some flares of prog into the tanks. Frozen Galaxies is still alive with trace elements of rock’s core, but the mixture has been recalibrated. No slouchers before by any means, Pyramidal sound reinvigorated after Dawn. The songs are fiercer, more intense and their playing is pushed deeper. That doesn’t mean it’s jackhammers-on-the-asteroid time. Obvious fans of pioneers such as Hawkwind and more experimental leaning Sabbath, Pyramidal get that heft isn’t about indulgence in distortion or useless bombast. That’s just turning a knob or two. The songs themselves, the structure, is what has the weight. On the conjoined first two cuts, Altar of Delusion World and Beyond the Lost Orbs, Pyramidal take onArantxa Marín’s sax, playing no small part in the new frenetic slant on Frozen Galaxies. Marín and Pyramidal push the envelope into some prime Hawkwind flavored grind as well as reaching out, and into, some of the unhinged nature of Acid Mothers brand of frayed space/prog rock. The dynamics are more jagged and the pulse oscillates more, with Pyramidal keeping a strong hand on the planets’ bedrock. Beyond the Orbs is far more elongated and drifting, but it has the same ingredients, just redistributed. The stronger emphasis on prog is felt right out of the gate, some moments calling to mind Crimson’s attack on rock among others. Each cut has a definite identity, but they are deeply connected. Not twins, but sharing some parts of the central nervous system. Sons of Light finds the ‘nauts flipping the switch back a notch to some prime, driving space rock. Pyramidal’s strong foothold on their foundation makes a deep footprint here. Wearing their influences on their bell-bottoms as much as their sleeves, Sons of Light is classic in transport, modern in delivery. Depending on your tastes, the more laser-pointed strike of Sons of Light could make it the centerpiece, but its placement after the flurry of the opening duo and before the opus of the title track makes it more the pivot. Pyramidal take the tangents of both, and elongate them on Frozen Galaxies, stretching their legs just shy of 24 minutes. Traces of harder prog are front-loaded on Frozen Galaxies, peppered with some hints of metal that add even more to the mix. Around 5 minutes into the flight, Pyramidal level out, not coasting, but going into a driving chug that carries them through to the end and provides enough thrust for the twist and turns to come. Considering the length of the flight, you’d think they would play to the tailspin, but Pyramidal opt for some surprising moderation that keeps Frozen Galaxies stable, and more importantly, on course for the duration of our flight. Factoring in some sitar from Samuel Riviere, the journey can lighten its payload along the way without floating away or losing direction. Nearing the end, Miguel Rodes’ bubbling bass signals the descent as Pyramidal take their time summing up their ingredients and bringing the mission full circle and back to front. Somewhat of a showcase for Pyramidal, Frozen Galaxies never shows off, despite the lure of indulgence with such a running time. It’s a logical way to join all the parts into a big closing statement without getting long-winded or seemingly not knowing when to stop, tacking on hard noodling at the end to fill time. Pyramidal do fill the time, and fill it well, but they do it without cramming or bloat. Easily shaking of a sophomore slump, Pyramidalbring life to space’s ‘frozen galaxies’ and tundras while injecting themselves with a new vitality, readying themselves for the next launch.
Secret Circuit, a project of one Eddie Ruscha, synthesizes his ‘love of psychedelia, techno, minimalism and Satie experimentation’ into a ‘Balearic-Tropical-Afro-Psychedelic whirl.’ He has a wealth of material, but Tropical Psychedelics, out on Emotional Response,is a dizzying collection of his cassette-only releases spanning ’96 to 2010 that effortlessly delivers on that intent. There’s a breeziness to the set that indeed musters up a tropical vibe, and playfulness, made clear on the overt frolic of Moon Life, Walkin’ on Water or a few layers down on Knocking on Wood, but encompasses much more than that one environment. Afrobotics lives up to both parts of its name with a galloping harmonious fusion that’s both global, broadly approachable and trippy. Lagoland, Roll and Foggy Twilights add a touch of vintage Mort Garson/Joe Meek-ishness to the palette that mixed with Ruscha’s modern execution lifts them out of the retro-vintage trash heap. This is thoroughly modern fare, but with a familiarity and love of tradition that moves into that wonderful space of a potential past futures, reimagined and retooled—again—for one more alternate universe that feels like an old friend. There’s a kinship that’s more in line with oddness and experimentation with studio wizardry than outright mimicry or sonic name-dropping. Angel’s Eyes and Psouvenirs stretch the edges more with elongated, heavily electronic passages that are more up front up being here-and-now, but splice right in with the other sonic postcards. In fact, being that it’s a stockpile that spans 14 years, there’s a cohesiveness and sequencing to Tropical Psychedelics that takes it beyond a travelogue through a select portion of Secret Circuit’s catalog. It very much plays out like an album rather than a series of postcards, though that appeal is there-and exploited-to great effect. Tropical Psychedelics, like any good getaway,transports you away and reminds you where you are…even in the bigger picture you might be trying to get away from.
"This show is 110% … one of the most consistently awesome programs we have come across."
The Sunrise Ocean Bender sets sail every Monday morning, 1 – 3 a.m. on WRIR lp 97.3 FM, to find something for your ears, and something for your head … From psych to prog to pop and whatever tributary we can find on the way … and right back around again. There might be a map, but the destination is up for grabs. If it all goes right, we may just get lost. Meet me at the muster station … it might be a long week.
Oceanfire
Not too long ago Fruits de Mer Records put forth the question, 
Todd Parker and the Witches
With the close of their Totem Trilogy, 
Alicante’s favorite 
Secret Circuit
