Sunday, 6 May 2007


ANTELOPE - Reflector (Dischord)

Here's a revised review of this record: Late last year these guys played the Metro In London, a filthy venue for the uninitated. On stage, they proceeded to tear through 'Reflector' and some previous hits with such unexpected fucking venom I felt compelled to simply stipulate that this record, as great as it is, doesn't capture an iota of Antelopes rhythmic presence in reality. Three straight collar dudes, arching through a minimal loaf of purity imbused chargers with a detached confidence I've rarely ever seen played out like that. Really, it was exceptional. This record is good stuff. It may seem half finished in places, but I suspect song structure is far from priority. There's a sentiment to deliver, and it's classic Dischord. A tropical flourish here, a kraut-spiced harmony there, and we're done in half an hour. Feasibly this music is boring, but I beg to differ. So many of the vocal refrains linger in the mind long after, too many grooves hit the hips. And did I hear 'Pop Sensibility'? Unintentional maybe, but I DID. A cracking effort.

Friday, 4 May 2007



Turbine Depress came to my attention by mistake. An early eighties Quebec-based rock group led by scene figurehead Bruno Tanguay, the band spawned a family tree of some intrigue. With not too much investigation, the Quebec and Montreal underground rock scene is unearthed intact:

And as I am sure you'll agree, makes for a wealth of oddball skronk. A link to the full download of Turbine Depress' cassette only album is in there, treat yourself guys! Go on!

Helps if you can read french however, sorry!


RICHARD FORMBY - I Was Asleep But Now I am Awake (GoldenLab)
Aesthetically delightful CDR from Manchesters Golden Lab. Richard Formby builds on warm, looped fragments, cut up drums, guitar chime and organ arrangement, with all the ascending tact of Reich. Or at times, er, DJ Shadow. Maybs. In Formbys world it's sometime in the 70s', at the height of classical experimentation and kraut motorik. Passages gracefully morph between chillaxed piano play and polyrhythmic freak-out. "Jazz Oddessy" anyone? Yep, it get's a little too close to homage at times, but there's a heap of sincerity in opener 'The Church Bells at Riley', and the spaced out meandering of 'Tweleve Ninety Six' positively shimmers with sci-fi solitude. Epic stuff, mate, epic stuff.