ALICE COLTRANE - A Monastic Trio (Verve By Request)

Über die meisten meiner Jazzplatten schreibe ich hier ja nichts, einfach weil es zumeist entweder Gebrauchtkäufe oder gerade günstige Reissues von Klassikern sind.

Wenn jene Wiederveröffentlichung aber noch ganz frisch aus dem laufenden Jahr ist, dann hat sie aber schon meinen Blogsenf verdient, egal wie irrelevant dieser bei einer erstmals 1968 erschienen und von allen Experten sicherlich komplett aussezierten Scheibe sein mag. Also keine Sorge, ich halte es ganz kurz!

ALICE COLTRANE - A Monastic Trio (LP) (1968/2024)

Aus der von Third Man records gepressten Verve By Request-Reihe hatte ich mir neulich erst Albert Aylers "Love Cry" gegönnt und war sehr angetan. Warum also nicht auch ein Neueingang in die Alice Coltrane-Sammlung?

Zunächst einmal ist "A Monastic Trio" gar kein Trio - zumindest im erster der sechs Stücke "Ohnedaruth", in welchem neben Coltrane, Jimmy Garrison am Kontrabass und Drummer Ben Riley auch noch der große Pharoah Sanders an der dem Saxophon verwandten Bassklarinette brilliert.

Der Rest der Songs entstand allerdings tatsächlich zu dritt in einer anderen Session, bei der Rashied Ali am Schlagzeug saß.
Allen beteiligten Musikern ist gemein, dass sie zuletzt Teil von John Coltranes Gruppe gewesen waren und ihm nun hier auf der ersten Veröffentlichung seiner Gattin nach seinem Tod, aufgenommen in seinem Hausstudio, Tribut zollen.

Eine Parallele zum später entstanden großartigen "Carnegie Hall Concert" ist die Aufteilung in zwei Hälften, was Alice' Instrumentenwahl angeht, hier allerdings in anderer Reihenfolge: Sowohl "Ohnedaruth" als auch "Gospel Trane" und "I Want To See You" scheinen stilistisch ein paar Jahre zurückzuschauen, ersetzen jedoch die Rolle von Johns beseeltem Saxophon mit ihren typischen, oft an eine Harfe erinnernden Tastenflügen auf dem Klavier.

Von Track zu Track scheinen die Strukturen freier zu werden, ehe die Künstlerin auf Seite B zur wirklichen Harfe wechselt und in "Lovely Sky Boat", "Oceanic Beloved" und "Atomic Peace" die transzendente spirituelle Meisterschaft ihrer kommenden Werke ankündigt.
Was kann diese Musik mit dieser Besetzung und unter der Prämisse, den Ehemann, Freund und Jahrhundermusiker zu ehren, anderes als großartig sein? Ohne Frage sind diese Aufnahmen, von denen es in anderen, nicht auf die Spielzeit einer Schallplatte limitierten Editionen des Albums auch noch mehr zu hören gibt, exzellent.

Die schwere 2024er-Pressung hält sich in der Gestaltung komplett ans Original, es gibt also keine aktuellen Liner Notes oder alterativen Artworks. Dabei hätte mich durchaus nicht gestört, wenn man das Frontcover des Gatefolds mal ein wenig aufgeräumt hätte. Das ist mir nämlich neben dem Foto zu sehr mit gestalterisch unnötigem Gedöns zugeballert.

Trotzdem natürlich ein tolles Album, welches sich intim, aber gleichzeitig viel größer als ein Trio anfühlt. Spiritual Free Jazz genau wie ich ihn liebe. Alice Coltrane übernimmt die Fackel und lässt die Flamme in Würde weiterlodern.

JULIE CHRISTMAS - Ridiculous And Full Of Blood

Mid June? Wow! Christmas really came early this year.

JULIE CHRISTMAS - Ridiculous And Full Of Blood (CD) (2024)

Long-awaited and eagerly anticipated. Let's be real: Many releases claim to be just that - and often it feels like a bit of an exaggeration. In the case of Julie Christmas, who wasn't even musically active for a while however I'll fight anyone who denies that it's true.

It has been far over a decade since her 2010 solo debut "The Bad Wife". And "Mariner", her amazing collaboration with Cult Of Luna, is also already eight years old. Damn, how time flies!
And ever since some of its songs debuted during her mindblowing Roadburn show in 2023 one could be sure this new album would be a banger. So of course I pre-ordered it as soon as possible.

Ok, no. I only realized after the release that I had only thought I already ordered it. Like I said before: Time flies - and dementia draws nearer in frightening steps.

Where was I? Ah, yes: Julie Christmas. "Ridiculous And Full Of Blood", a title which reflects on the absurdity of living an normal life one day and suddenly being a legend on the 013 main stage an ocean away from Brooklyn, is here and and greets us with an artwork which I already dare to call iconic. And thankfully it doesn't require a 12" canvas to shine, but also works on the beautifully designed CD digipak.

Behind it hides a compact content of ten tracks with an average length of four minutes something, which form an album that is not many things:
It's not as delicate and intimate as "The Bad Wife". It's not as immediately in your face as Made Out Of Babies' "Coward". It's not as utterly dark and devasting as Battle Of Mice's psycholgical break-up war  "A Day Of Nights". It's not as ginormous and epic as "Mariner".

Julie Christmas live at Roadburn 

Yet at the same time it honours and echoes all of Christmas' previous work.

If we're going to pin down the closest approximation in terms of songwriting and balance between heaviness and catchiness, I would say that this continues where the ambitious Post Hardcore of the last Babies album "The Ruiner" (2008) left off, but it adds a bigger, less dry production and an unmistakable pinch of Cult of Luna Post Metal guitar walls.
That pinch actually has a name, since Johannes Persson from the Norwegian band actually is a member of Julie's group as well and even contributes his loud signature growls to two songs. The closest we have to a "Mariner, Part 2" now! "End Of The World" and "The Lighthouse" might also be the tracks which work best as summaries of everything Julie Christmas does as a songwriter, lyricist and above all of course singer.

She squeaks, sings softly, whispers and ends her lines on strange quirky accents, "a mousy little thing", a "little sparrow". She screams, cracks, screeches, rages, roars, "LOUD, supernatural".

And noone does this quite like Julie Christmas. Always on the edge of being too intense, too excessive and eccentric, dancing too fearless on the tightrope which seperates perfect control from unhinged havoc. This lady could surely give vocal teachers heart attacks.
It's probably the musical context which makes her voice work so fantastically. She needs that larger than life Neurosis punch mixed with hymnic Post Rock grandiosity to match her own fierceness and emotional intensity.

And while they do it in a variety of shapes, all songs on "Ridiculous And Full Of Blood" find this sweet golden spot, where everything seems like an extension of Christmas' love, scorn, curiosity and desperation. This album is a hard one to hide from. Julie will find you and make you listen! What does she want from me? Why is she whispering softly into my ear and screaming so furiously right into my face? And why do I suffer her elemental unloading so gladly?

Easy answer: because she does it so fucking good. Because the whole album is so fucking good. This bloody grinning thing simply is an addictive earworm farm. And no matter if Julie sings about just wanting to see you again or unleashing like a train, roaring down a track - the sheer joy of her expressing herself and reaching out to us through music somehow always shines through in a way that gives the album an uplifting quality. Or maybe my personal memory of the great communal experience that could be felt during her Roadburn performance is just playing tricks on me.

"There's just no man upstairs, there's no God in heaven".
But at least there still is Christmas. Even in summer.

NICK HUDSON - Kanda Teenage Honey

My first encounter with Nick Hudson took place over eight years ago aboard the MS Stubnitz, when he supported Toby Driver. During his first song I was the complete audience. These facts already suggest that he's probably a pretty obscure artist.

On the other hand his band The Academy Of Sun's magnum opus "The Quiet Earth" is not only my most-played album on Bandcamp, but I already consider it a timeless classic and one of the finest things England has brought to the world in this millennium so far. Well, I also had to create its Discogs entry, even though I was a rather late buyer.

His solo work since then has been prolific  - among others considering of an album, an EP, a soundtrack and one of the rarest items in my whole music collection - and equally great.
The singer / songwriter / instrumentalist has channeled several music legends throughout his discography. And sometimes it feels like he could be among those greats. In reality however Nick Hudson is a prime example of an abyssal gap between deserved and actually received recognition. No, there could hardly be a greater walking antithesis to a star.

Welcome to "Kanda Teenage Honey", the latest self-released album of that queer dude with a Russia obsession, who moved from England to Georgia (the Eastern European one) creating his art between wandering in marvellous mountain landscapes and protesting authoritarian pro-Putin tendencies in the streets:

NICK HUDSON - Kanda Teenage Honey (CD) (2024)

Where even to fucking start? Unless I really have no better idea of how to tackle an album I usually try to avoid track-by-track reviews. This thing also has the same epic scale as "The Quiet Earth" with sixteen pieces between Chamber Pop, Post Punk, Alternative Avantgarde and so much more in over seventy-three minutes. So that's probably a lot of text...
On the other hand I find it hard to make overall observations which really encompass everything which is happening here.

Nah, I'm doing the lame track-by-track thing. But you know what? I'm just spicing this up with pure randomness by setting my player on shuffle:

2. "For My Silence" - The three-minute hit single? Given how this catchy straight-forward piano pop ballad is placed on the album it almost feels like a ruse, an intentional misdirection. Or just a very good song.

3. "Sky Burial While Alive" - An ominous intro with a narration of dictators being likened to planets transitioning into a creeping Swans groove until the beat stops for uneasy Ambient sounds, while the sonor vocals contemplate over state culture grants for assisted suicides. Cryptic, definitely not a hit, but doesn't need to be.

8. "Bardo" - Spoken words and a slow Ambient build-up for over two minutes. Then this eight-and-a-half minute longtrack explodes into wild angular Noise Rock before slowing down to a movement of treacherous grand piano before a final storm of let's call it Chaos Core. If you needed a prove that Nick Hudson is a long-time fan of Mike Patton and Mr. Bungle - here it is.

15. "Bad Ghost Vs Good Boy" - Dear mannered people afraid of rainbows, you must be strong now, because this acoustic guitar ballad features references like "Helmut Berger in wanked-out underwear" or "Pink Kalashnikov clashes over River Phoenix' ashes". Yeah, I think this is an old man's gay jerk-off song. With a ridiculously good chorus for its tongue in cheek content.

13. "Catherine In The Curate's Garden" - A steady drone, an unsteady stumbling rhythm and a singer unphased by both pretending this was a beautiful six-minute Depeche Mode ballad. Weird yet intriguing.

5. "This Heat" - There cannot be a Nick Hudson release without at least one musical prayer to Tori Amos. A huge little piece vor just piano and vocals.

11. "Seva" - Synths and strange noises. It's Ambient soundtrack time? Oh wait, there's Vsevolod Osupov citing a (Russian or Georgian?) poem. I'm realizing that there are a lot of tracks on this albums pose the question: What is this and why does it even work? I'm not even sure if every track actually works on its. This album is best listened to as an holistic experience.

10. "Unspent Youth" - Opening with a soprano guest vocalist and carrying on with keys, strings, classical guitar and Toby Driver on hammered dulcimer. This feels like floating through a sea of sounds between clerical, Folk and Classical.

9. "Hunters" - More piano goodness, this time with a choir. Only two minutes short this feels like an interlude between bigger compositions.

16. "Danube" - I wish I could elaborate further on the lyrics of this album. But to be honest Nick's writing is easy to recognize as being very witty, humorous and also touching at times, even with my casual non-native speaker's knowledge of the English language. But actually digging into the meaning in an at least medium profound capacity is a task going over my head with the time at hand... This is a not spectacular, but beautiful album closer, by the way.

6. "Hachiko" - The shortest song of all. Only Hudson's voice. Good that the man can sing.

14. "Ortolan" - "Stab your demoniac smile to my brain, Soak me in cognac, cunt and cocaine!" ... Ok.

15. "Archipelago" - If you want me to name one pinnacle of "Kanda Teenage Honey" it must be "Archipelago". This absolutely fantastic six-and-a-half-minute piano epic definitely is the pinnacle of Tori worship. Going logically along with that this reminiscence on passed lovers is also the most emotional and heartfelt track. A-game! Oh, and on a side-note relevant exclusively for all homophobic Vlads and Karens out there, because it doesn't even feel vulgar in context: Yeah, this has definitely the most graphic gay stuff in it. And if that bothers you here... I'm sure you didn't get Björk singing about every fuck she had on "Vulnicura" either. Better just stick to Kid Rock!

12. "In Praise Of Venerable Jorge" - A duet about silence, so let's go right to the next one...

1. "Khevsureti" - Finally the album opener! Wide björkish strings, just one repeated verse in which Nick Hudson once again channels his inner Holly Johnson. This indeed feels like the intro to a 12" maxi mix of a Frankie Goes To Hollywood ballad - until it takes a turn to more recent Avantgarde sounds.

4. "Hollow Man" - "Show me on the dolly - Is genocide your therapy?" Lyrically this song throws a drive-by Molotov onto the oligarch's daughter, dreams of all wars, conjures hurricanes and ends up in a Nuremberg cell. Between circular guitars, majestic Dark Rock and pristine piano just as much happens musically. One of those songs which have it all. Almost a summary of the whole album.

And now go listen to the damn thing yourself! It doesn't have to be in this order.


The only thing which sucks about my particular copy of this masterpiece is that the plastic tray part of my digipak didn't survive transport unscathed and makes me watch its unstoppable disintegration in slow motion now.

INSECT ARK - Raw Blood Singing

"I killed a man

Who took this mouth

Who took this tongue

And spit it out

I lick the skin

The wound the cut

That bitter taste

Your sweet, sweet blood [...]"

Dana Schechter sings now. It's in the album title.

I'm also quite late with this review, so if you're a fan of Insect Ark you probably already knew that even if you didn't get the obvious hint.

INSECT ARK - Raw Blood Singing (black / bone galaxy vinyl LP) (2024)

The shape of the Swans bassist / lap guitar player's duo has changed since the last regular album  "The Vanishing" (the follow-up "Future Fossils" being a collection of recordings from different phases anyway); her new drummer Tim Wyskida is known for his work with Blind Idiot God and Khanate.

Stylistically this doesn't mean a radical change compared to what his predecessor Andy Patterson did in the band. One phenomal guy for the job substituted by another phenomenal guy for the job, both serving Schechter's vision of Doom, Drone, Noise and Dark Ambient perfectly.

Everything on "Raw Blood Singing" feels like a straight continuation of the path that previously led from "Marrow Hymns" to "The Vanishing": the base of Insect Ark are bass riffs which feel like Godflesh guitars slowed down to Earth pace, sprinkled with subtle synths and piano here and there, and of course the characteristic slide of the lap steel guitar.

The main component which is new this time is of course the voice. Adding vocals to an established instrumental project can be a risky move, potentially estranging listeners. You have to be sure that they are worth it. And that confidence is undoubtly there.
I don't know if Dana Schechter's work with Michael Gira inspired her to add singing to her multiple chores in Insect Ark, but his influence is definitely present, in some of her phrasings (listen to "Psychological Jackal"!), but also in the weight of her lyricism, which seems like a very natural extension of the music.

While of course adding new layers of sound and meaning both the words and the way they're uttered take absolutely no time to adjust to. It rather feels like an element that easily could have always been there. Someone either just forgot to unmute the vocal tracks on the previous releases - or decided to replace the vocals with lap steel guitar parts.
Because those tools almost have the same function. They even alternate on eye level on this album: half of the tracks feature singing, the other ones focus on the guitar as lead voice.

So there you have it: Insect Ark are just as amazing as before, but they present their bleak, dark signature sound with new textures, an extra touch of modern Gothic and the actual lyrical content the music already felt it had before.

There's a macabre beauty in hopelessness. And "Raw Blood Singing" draws right from that well. Channeling apathy and inner turmoil this album is cold and distanced, yet dangerously close and immediate at the same time.
Just like the raw landscape on its cover art, which fronts a beautiful packaging and fittingly coloured record. Flawless Atmospheric Avantgarde Doom art, accordingly presented.

Nieuwkerk / Halve Maan

Almost chronological photo post of almost all (=not much) pictures I took in the morning hours during my stay for Roadburn Festival in April this year. Featuring expired black and white medium format film shot with Adox Golf folding camera, expired colour slide film in Cypréa 35 mm toycam and Digital Harinezumi 2.0.

FANGE - Perdition

Samstag Nachmittag, draußen ist's heiß, also sitze ich hier im aktuell kühlsten Raum des Hauses vor meiner Liste von noch zu schreibenden Rezensionen und überlege mir, welche wohl am einfachsten und schnellsten verfasst ist. Schließlich soll mir Hermes heute ja schon wieder zwei Pakete voller neuer und alter Musik bringen, mit der ich mich gerne noch beschäftigen möchte.

Hmm... Mein Mercheinkauf vom zweiten Tag des Colossal Weekend in Kopenhagen ist nur eine halbe Stunde kurz. Und im Grunde habe ich das halbe Review ja schon im Livebericht vorweggenommen. Also los, das frühstücken wir jetzt turboboostend ab!

FANGE - Perdition (CD) (2024)

Fange sind sehr sauer. Und Fange sind schwer wie ein Bulldozer, der über deinen Brustkorb fährt. Auch wenn die in ihrer Muttersprache brüllenden Franzosen einiges über diese Basis hinaus anzubieten haben, führt kein Weg an der Feststellung vorbei, dass dies nicht nur live, sondern ebenso auf Tonträger konserviert der erste und dominanteste Eindruck ist, den die Band dir in die Fresse peitscht.
Und dieser Eindruck entschuldigt auch die kurze Spielzeit. Irgendwann möchte man schließlich auch wieder atmen können, oder?

Sludge, Noise, Industrial Metal und Post Metal (überwiegend) der ersten Generation - es ist Justin Broadrick worship angesagt! - finden hier boshaft zornig zusammen. Die Aggression des Frontmanns erinnert mich an Godfleshs "Like Rats" oder Laibachs "Krvava Gruda - Plodna Zemlja". Der harsche Drumcomputer und die bohrsäghämmernden Riffs wären ohne Godflesh natürlich ebenfalls kaum vorstellbar.

Fange live im Vega, Kopenhagen

Als weitere mögliche Einflüsse kommen die ersten Alben von Fanges Landsmännern Treponem Pal in den Sinn, und gerade wenn die Gitarren sich etwas weiter öffnen und der modern im Sinne cultoflunascher Breitwandigkeit produzierte Sound Anflüge von Melodie und Shoegazigkeit spürbar werden lässt, dröhnt neben jenen Norwegern auch das Wirken von Aidan Baker / Nadja durch den Raum. Und wer die industriellere Seite von Blut aus Nord schätzt, der sollte mit dieser Depressionsgranate auch gut umgehen können.

Große Teile der Ästhetik orientieren sich zwar an zumeist eher minimalistisch repetitiv strukturierten Vorbildern, doch das Songwriting von Fange ist tatsächlich vergleichsweise komplex, gerade was die programmierten Beats angeht.

Und um noch einmal zu betonen, dass erdrückender Sumpfsaitenklang und maschineller Prügel hier bei weitem nicht alles sind, seinen nur ein paar Details aus spezifischen Song erwähnt: "Le Haine" ist in soundtrackhafte, beinahe proggige Synthwavekänge getränkt. "Toute Honte Bue" überrascht mit einer melodischen Hook der Marke späte Dillinger Escape Plan. "Lèche-Béton" gibt zwischendurch im Hardcore / Ministry-Stil Gas. Und "Désunion Sacrée" schließlich kontrastiert die ausweglose Stimmung des Albums schließlich mit geschmackvoll ätherischem weiblichen Gastgesang.

Fazit: Fange bieten auf "Perdition" nicht nur ein gewaltiges misanthropisches Brett, sondern lassen innerhalb einer halben Stunde dabei auch so viel geschehen, dass man nach Ende der sieben Stücke zwar gerne noch mehr hätte, aber keinesfalls das Gefühl hat, es würde noch etwas fehlen.

Brutal gut.

ZOMBI - Direct Inject

Uuuh, ja! Ramm mir die Nadel durch die Schädeldecke und baller mir den Scheiß direkt in den Bregen! Beinahe hätte ich's verpasst, aber Zombi haben im März tatsächlich eine neue Synthiedroge aus ihrem Labor entlassen.

ZOMBI - Direct Inject (CD) (2024)

Der den vierzigminütigen Trip eröffende Titeltrack schmeckt sofort nach Chrom, Fluxkompsensator und Vampirbiss: großartiger, achtziger-jahre-elektrolastiger Synthwave mit mörderisch groovendem, organischen Monsterdrumming und rosa Funken sprühender Leadgitarre, hier tanzbar, da ein wenig spooky.
Die Message ist unmissverständlich: Da sind wir wieder und wir haben das geile Zeug mitgebracht! Von da an ist alles, was uns A.A. Paterra (Drums) und Steve Moore (Tasten, Knöpchen und Saiten) in den restlichen acht Stücken bringen, eigentlich schon nur noch Kür, da sie uns eh schon in der Tasche haben.

"So Mote It Be" stampft dann heavier zu den Carpenter-Keyboards und untermalt dies zusätzlich durch ein effektives Metal-Gitarrenriff, so wie man es sie auch auf "2020" schon gab.
Der kürzere Track "Bodies In The Flosam" stößt im Anschluss in eine ähnliche Richtung, während "Kamichi & Sandy" das Tempo etwas runterfährt und auch in seinem Riff mehr auf minimalistisch elektronische Reinheit setzt. Was nicht heißt, dass dieser Song nicht ebenso großes Soundtrackkino bieten würde.

Im mit sechseinhalb Minuten längsten Stück "Sessuale II" überrascht uns Moore dann mit einer neuen Klangzutat und holt nicht nur den Bass, sondern auch die Königin der Achtziger, das schmachtende Saxophon aus dem Instrumentenkoffer!
Da treffen die Nächte der Lust des Lovecraft Sextets auf samtene Jazz Fusion. So unverhohlen sexy hat das pittsburgher Duo noch nie geklungen.

Mit untrüglichem Gespür für Sounds und Melodien, die einerseits nach Schnurrbart, Schulterpolster und sprechendem Auto schreien, anderseits aber schlicht und einfach saugut sind, arbeiten sich Zombi in "Improvise Adapt Overcome" und "The Post-Atomic Horror" anschließend graduell wieder zu bedrohlicheren Tönen vor, ehe die "Insurmountable Odds" den Zenit der Horrorstimmung auf "Direct Inject" markieren. Back to the roots, aber durchaus etwas komplexer als auf den ersten Aufnahmen der Band.

Zum Abschluss gleiten wir mit "Sessuale I" in einen orangeroten Traum und entschweben sanft ins Weltall. Kosmische Pornographie. Schade, dass das Album hier schon endet.

Anderseits scheint diese Länge tatsächlich ideal für Moore und Paterra zu sein, um ihre Ideen in einem eleganten Fluss ins Ohr zu bringen. "Direkt Inject" direktinjiziert jedenfalls alles, was den Signatursound von Zombi ausmacht, ohne auch nur ein Spürchen Langeweile aufkommen zu lassen. Ich höre hier nichts, worüber ich meckern könnte. Exzellent!

Scanafeld

Just a couple of rural Northern German photographs from the last Sunday back in April, taken in 6x6 cm with an Adox Golf folding medium format camera on Orwo NP 22 black and white film (expired 08/1991).