Double Leopards - 'Savage Summer Sun' (Hospital)

When we last left Double Leopards it was with Halve Maen; fast-forward a couple years and we get this digitised slice of two live performances, filling the CD's 73 minutes and being relentless in its deep, rumbling drones. Here, we can see the progression of the band as a collective unit, where four humans create an abstract sound-world. They weren't the first to do it, nor were they the last, but they hit on something unique and personal during the mid-00s which is commendable (despite spawning legions of imitators, which isn't their fault). The first track begins with a wall of low frequencies, during which we start to hear screaming, free-jazz styled noodling emerge over a slow, military-like rhythm. It's still subdued by the density that fills the midrange spectrum,  which gradually allows a razor-sharp counter-drone to fight against it. Movement is slow, and change almost imperceptible, but there's a brash charging forward felt here - I would even call it 'energy'. It's not an obvious melting of like-minded improvisers but rather distinct personalities, united in some goal, though of course the unconventional instrumentation (I am guessing lots of processed voice, homemade synthesisers  and keyboards) means this could all be the work of a single person.  And then the second track begins with a full-on assault, with layers suggesting water, metal, and ruptured velocity. It's anti-meditative drone music, yet horizontal enough to be based on some minimalist heritage. It's a live performance and the rough edges are present; some percussion comes and goes but resembles a fumbling in the rumbling; not a bad thing, and this instability presses against the endless cycles. And when it ends, it's the silence that is savage. Thus we bid Double Leopards farewell, though I swore I had more recordings by them -- whatever happened to my vinyl copy of A Hole is True?

Broadcast - 'Tender Buttons' (Warp)

It's funny how much I've come to love Broadcast over the years - a love that has crept up on me, like a subtle itch that can never be scratched. I don't play their records to death - I could, I suppose, but then maybe I wouldn't enjoy them as much. I remember when they first came out with Work and Non-Work in the late 90s, and they seemed like little more than a Stereolab clone. They've certainly emerged as their own voice, one which I would say I like even more than Stereolab -- though when listening to 'America's Boy', track 4 on Tender Buttons, I can't help but think of some similarities that remain. Both bands are synth-driven British groups that cross over into "rock" and "electronica" camps quite easily -- and this tune makes the same political gestures that the 'Lab's best empty Marxist anthems does. And another similarity is that I can tune out the lyrical meaning of both vocalists, letting the words wash over like abstract elements in a beautiful sound soup. But the similarities have to end by now, 2005, where this is technically Broadcast's last proper album (with Future Crayon being a Pisces Iscariot, and the sloppy collaboration with the Focus Group feeling like a tossed-off yet competent document of a band at a crossroads). Cause, where can you go after Tender Buttons? It's satisfying on every level; the arrangements stick to a core of guitars, keyboards, singing, drums -- but the accents are rich and plentiful. Flanged out studio effects, melting white noise, field recordings aflame -- yet it never feels dense or overwhelming. This is the kind of band that is capable of perfectly balancing things: retrofuturist sound sources with contemporary songwriting; electronic distance with organic atmosphere. I mean, look at the cover art - even that balances handmade casualness with a digital aesthetic. This CD features some insanely catch pop songs, like 'Black Cat' and 'Corporeal', that couldhaveshouldhave been radio hits; plus, a few jams, er, I mean, exemplary displays of musicianship, to show you what comes first ('Bit 35' which reminds me of the one instrumental on every Fugazi record focused through a Neu! reduction). There's fourteen songs and not a drop of filler, but nothing goes on for too long. Calculated for maximum impact, and can you tell I really love this album? I don't want to dissect the songwriting or arrangements too much, for fear of ruining the mystery, but this band has a few musical tricks that I really identify with them. The first is the use of slowly ascending melodies - 'Arc of a Journey's unfolds like a blossoming keyboard flower that is both dizzying and calm. They also have this walking bassline kinda thing which isn't anything unique but it makes a song feel like a Broadcast song. I think one thing that makes some pop music Great is when it can be enjoyed on a fun level of pure pop, but there's lots to sink into beneath the surface, for those who care. Tender Buttons wins on both levels.

Boards of Canada - 'Music Has the Right to Children' (Matador/Warp/Skam)

I could go on and on about this CD but everyone else already has, so I'll give you my personal take. It's always something special when there is some newly mined "genre" that is popular and along comes somebody who just totally melts everything else around it. This record did that, and I can compared it maybe to what This Heat did to the post-punk field with Deceit or maybe even Dylan in some way. In this case, the genre was the whole 'IDM' thing, which never clicked with me (despite all of the clicks in it). But Music Has the Right to Children sure resonated with me back in '98 or whenever this came out. Perhaps that's because it came, for me, at a time when I was looking to expand my horizons a bit, and I was no longer afraid of the world of electronica. It sure helps that it sounds like all of the music I listened to anyway back then, except recorded better and with electronic beats. I still find some of the more overtly dancey beats, particularly the ones at the beginning of the album like on 'Telephasic Workshop', a bit harder to digest. What I really love is what I call that 'classic' Boards of Canada sound - the way a steady, midtempo rhythm will just come in like the sun rising over a mountaintop ('Aquarius', perhaps). But their perfectionism is totally welcome - it touched on the guitar-futurism I admired about My Bloody Valentine, embraced the same warm aesthetics that I found to be missing from just about everything else in their genre, and most importantly (in retrospect) a real style of mythmaking that magnifies the artistry of the music. I mean, let's look at the cover - a beautifully monochromatic image, simultaneously warm and cool, and weathered just as the music is. Faces blurred out; creepy yes, but moreso I'd say 'enigmatic'. And there's so many little details in the way the songs will change direction - one channel will get more distant, an electric piano note will be able to ring out longer - it's obsessive sound creation for sure. There's actually quite a lot of melodic noodling here ('Turquoise Hexagon Sun') though maybe 'noodling' is the wrong word for these guys. When voices are sampled, which they are quite a lot here, it's so tasteful you barely even notice. Geogaddi didn't do it for me but I used to work with a dude who swore by it, and to be fair there was no way it could have slayed me as much as this record did. It simultaneously opened up a door to a whole soundworld, and then closed said door by being so satisfying I had little interest in the other giants of their peer group. Though I loved Campfire Headphase more than most, so I can see myself falling in love with Geogaddi one belated day. I think Boards of Canada are best experienced on vinyl, and probably with headphones; therefore it's somewhat paradoxical that I'm listening to them on CD through bookshelf speakers. I can draw a straight line between Terry Riley, AR Kane, most of the early Kranky records roster, and this. But that's confining; they wiggle around and draw many retro-cultural images that I didn't even fully understand until I lived in Scotland myself.

Allinson / Brown - 'AV1' (Resurgence)

Source: A used CD, bought somewhere locally around '98 or '99.

Dave Allinson (who?) and Phill Brown (the producer of the Talk Talk masterpieces) collaborated for this one-off CD, a curiosity for Talk Talk fans as it features Mark Hollis playing piano on one track under the 'John Cope' pseudonym as well as Mark Feltham who played harmonica on and Spirit of Eden and Laughing Stock. Do you like ambient music? Cause this is probably best described as such - deep listening music where you gotta crank the stereo to hear the layers, which are delicate and beautiful of course. If you dig Rafael Toral's Wave Field CD then you'll love Track 1 (though this is a great deal whispier than Toral's shoegazer tribute). There's ringing bells, very subtle instrumental gestures, and only at the very end does a drumbeat come in. Unfortnately track 2 takes that beat and builds a track around it, turning it into a "chillout" ambient experience. If you're looking to come down after a long night of raving this might be a good time, but I couldn't wait for it to be over. After all, track 3 is the 'John Cope' piano jam which is credited to just Cope and it's like making breakfast with only one stale piece of bread and some old cheese. It's super duper minimal yet it still feels kinda jazz (pronounced with soft sibilant 'yass' sound).   When you cough up some blodd into a napkin, if you look at it the right way it kinda looks like Paul Bley.  Last track returns to the ethereal emptyness of the first one though who's likely to be awake by this point?