Pain in the Annual: Nocturnal emissions with MV & EE, nightmare rituals with Ultra Eczema
MV and EE are some prolific folk. I guess when you just get high on yr "fake farm", as Tony Rettman puts it, you have plenty of time to rub up against your muses. Well, must be a lotta lube or some pretty chafed muses out 'round these two and their oddly named cohorts. Fine by me, as long as they keep the bowls singing and the earholes ringing.
As usual there's been a lot of stuff coming outta their camp this year. As of late they've been performing and recording massive posse cuts with their Bummer Road affiliates. I haven't had the pleasure of hearing Green Blues yet, but I hear it is yet another "smoker". I have, however, mawed down on their highest profile release this year, Mother of Thousands, on that oh-so-lovely Time-Lag label. And guess what? I dig.
Mother of Thousands do indeed keep it deep and distant, with the inverted-folk strain that MV keeps on lock. Plenty of ghosts playing harmonicas, trees plucking strings, grassturbation, etc. A real evenin' time spinna and reverb winna. Brain massge.
The Ultra Eczema label, on the other hand, has been releasing it's unfair share of creep and lurk for when yr in that squinty mood rolling 'bout in empty, crumpled cans. The Guam River and Spykes w/ the Casket Sinkers pitcher discs stay real crackly, total Detroit action. Much less aggressive than a lot of the stuff the dudes involved are known for, more of a circling-at-twenty-paces-with-jelly-stuff-dripping shadow-tones. Tomutonttu instead decides to color everything as everything all at once, and the resultant flourescent bleed really fucks up one's screen. Jessica Ryland as Can't confesses in a way that makes you feel glory in your own damn guilt. And last on the list of what I've had the pleasure of partaking of, Edmund de Deyster's posthumous archival findings on Selectie 01 are the loneliest abused basement synth tones I can recall hearing. All this stuff really gets a dude in its own way. Ultra Eczema, you go.
As usual there's been a lot of stuff coming outta their camp this year. As of late they've been performing and recording massive posse cuts with their Bummer Road affiliates. I haven't had the pleasure of hearing Green Blues yet, but I hear it is yet another "smoker". I have, however, mawed down on their highest profile release this year, Mother of Thousands, on that oh-so-lovely Time-Lag label. And guess what? I dig.
Mother of Thousands do indeed keep it deep and distant, with the inverted-folk strain that MV keeps on lock. Plenty of ghosts playing harmonicas, trees plucking strings, grassturbation, etc. A real evenin' time spinna and reverb winna. Brain massge.
The Ultra Eczema label, on the other hand, has been releasing it's unfair share of creep and lurk for when yr in that squinty mood rolling 'bout in empty, crumpled cans. The Guam River and Spykes w/ the Casket Sinkers pitcher discs stay real crackly, total Detroit action. Much less aggressive than a lot of the stuff the dudes involved are known for, more of a circling-at-twenty-paces-with-jelly-stuff-dripping shadow-tones. Tomutonttu instead decides to color everything as everything all at once, and the resultant flourescent bleed really fucks up one's screen. Jessica Ryland as Can't confesses in a way that makes you feel glory in your own damn guilt. And last on the list of what I've had the pleasure of partaking of, Edmund de Deyster's posthumous archival findings on Selectie 01 are the loneliest abused basement synth tones I can recall hearing. All this stuff really gets a dude in its own way. Ultra Eczema, you go.
posted by Quincy Hoist at 3:29 PM
1 Comments:
Shit, I don't have any money-making opportunities to share, but had a couple quick questions, perhaps more suitable for email.. but first--I assume Quincy Hoist is also your nom de DJ? Tried to catch you at Genna's last week, but was on the verge of falling asleep after one beer and bored enough that I almost started blogging from my cell phone; presumably you set up shop shortly after I resolved to pedal home.
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