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Showing posts with label copyright & distribution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label copyright & distribution. Show all posts

Friday, 29 May 2020

Boards Of Canada - Music Has The Right To Children Vinyl

Just got the first (1st pressing) catalogue edition "Skalp" of Boards Of Canada (BOC)'s "Music Has The Right to" LP.  I have wanted to own this artifact on dubplate, acetate or plain record for more than 15 years. Now I have a dub vinyl. I use the term dub vinyl because there's little variation from the original pressing, but enough to keep it fresh.
The pressing quality is good. I got it from Truck Store Oxford. The vinyl sounds better than the digital. It's of course warmer, but very clear, at the same time. And punchy, too, but not so that the drums swamp the mix.

To me MHTRTC was always BOC's best album. There were two EPs before its official release in 1995. I think those were "Twoism" and "Hi Scores". Also very good releases. Especially for "Happy Cycling" and "Oirectine".

For me personally, the early stuff was when they were itchy, untamed and scratchy.
Then as they smoothed out, they got itchy and scratchy but were tamed by then.
It's also worth noting the type of anti-austerity mix and mash of the vinyl sides on this repressing 25 years on.

"Rhombuses And Triangles", one of the interleaves from Twoism EP, closes side 1 of 4. A fitting serenade. I wanted to provide audio linked in my post like I used to do, but YouTube's reliance on its subscription is beating me. So you'll have to make do with these words. It's all very well put together as incidental music sequences go.

Honestly, "Music has The Right" is one of the finest albums by older electronic musicians I've ever come across in life. It's just right. Like it has the right. And like that it uses that right. The right of music. Giving plans to children. Even if you never plan to raise children yourself (I don't want kids), Boards Of Canada provide a good working score. Sit back with a glass of water, a doctor's apple and a lime and sprinkle over your glass the essence of true British vim.
One for the home bodies.

Friday, 4 August 2017

285: Goldie - The Journeyman 3 CD Synopsis (Metal Heads / Cooking Vinyl Ltd. ) by Andy Popin

...official SubVersion review of Goldie - "The Journeyman 3CD", by Andy Popin

It's fine to comment on whole triple albums...and if you are reviewing for publication purposes other than self, it is just the kind of sheet you do, implicitly. But for me, there's something extra extra special about the closing (read: not bonus) third CD that concludes Cliffy 'Goldie''s best work since "Timeless" in his triple disc mother lode, "The Journeyman" on Metalheadz. Not only did it manage to make this hefty rockhead shed a few tears at recent exterior memories on my favourite piece of his whole album, the totally friggin terrific "Run Run Run" piano focused piece (yes it has piano, go figure) but "The Instra Suites", as this ascending journey disc spanning nearly eighty minutes and no less is titled, confirmed to me what I love best about Goldie - when he "actually finishes a tune".

Insult? No way. 

For anyone who knows Ciiffy, whether it's just journalistically from afar like me and the average Joe, the ethic of putting the kitchen sink in good and proper - on each tune - is clear, and that dialectic genius he has of one of the precious few which too much weed didn't mess up musically from the 1990s is as clear as day on, for me personally, and to agree with Goldie for once, a better opus effort than "Timeless", the album that garnered so much acclaim. 

Let's dispense with the long-winded verbals for a moment, and just appreciate the scene. Goldie has been around. God, is that an understatement? James Bond's assasin in The World Is Not Enough; the two left-footed Dad on Strictly Come Dancing; faux-thug on soapy depressant Eastbenders (pardon no pun); first-year psych workout Celebrity Big Brother glam points on a career spanning over three decades from the foundations of B-boy graff, Reinforced Records graft and London street seller grit and grime. It really shows on the closing dnb-turned-Detroit-tech cut "Redemption" at the end of disc three, a fiercely inventive swipe at the hangers-on of Jeff Mills, Frankie Knuckles Chicago-an House, Laurent Garnier acid techno Eiffels; his 'ardcore Rufige Cru life. Meanwhile as on the opener to this journey, "Natalie's Truth", "tomorrow lies in a sculpture", which points towards the Body Of Songs project "Electric Abyss" paradox-psychology of concept construction. 

Speaking of more close-to-home, hearty influences, the sounds of "Timeless" engineer Rob Playford (Omni Trio) are dotted all over the analog bass balm and early club warming up sounds of "Horizon". The bass pattern plays a simple trajectory; minor 7th addition to major 7th subtraction but the drum counterpoint reverses and kaleidoscopically explodes the flow. In addition, musically so, glimmers of light piano and Rhodes points to roads untravelled by liquid funk since Lincoln Barret and Dom of Calibre subtracted the stepper breakbeat multi-match and doused in the rinse-and-repeat club putty of rolling percussion. These sounds speak of the unspoken divide between the liquid funk sub genre and atmospheric techno, rotating their influences like a heart-on-sleeve pallbearer passing out pamphlets of multi-faith worship at a parish. In lesser terms, that does not normally happen. 

The next chapter takes us down into a Massive Attack and Portishead style meander - and a great one, with utmost focus - called "Mountains". It's too heavy for a strictly chill station; too light for a jungle tearout station. The best kind of description for stuff like this is "saturated hip hop", that Photek tune of the same name. This to me is better, and not just because it's more musical, it also has production balls, not saturated fat. "Ballad Of Celeste" takes that blueprint and adds violin, reducing (or rather transducing) the overall granular convolution that comes with forgetting memories on a journey as they start to happen. The album is low on lacular amnesia, to borrow from The Caretaker's titles; everything fits into place nicely, and is recollected as a memory pure, as it should be. Nice rice-grained harpsichord irons out the attention tenets of the time listening to "Celeste", which is "Mountains" romantic candour and counterpoint suggestion, also bookend with baby chuckles and samples of twinkling Poinsetta prettiness. "Castaway" ups the pace to around 162bpm by my internal heartbeat. 

For the first time in this CD, wind instruments are ferociously introduced, darting all over the beat like a moth caught in a circus lightshow. Echoes of the synth used on Seal's "Killer" ("solitary brother, is there still a part of you that wants to live? Soiitary sister, is there still a part of you that wants to give?") sprinkle in the background like a kind of confetti-coloured moss; a disguised past. And that's exactly what "The Journeyman" feels like, on the whole...and a "glorious future past". The transition from hardcore to dnb reimagined for a less nascent, more grown up audience. It's an absolute mind killer of a journey, to use that dnb buzz word; it takes me to spiritual and heavenly palaces of the eye andear without moving a finger, except those on the hand to put this in the CD player with. Everything fits into place, as I have stated throughout. 

It's like "The Journeyman" just came to show us that in tomorrow, and even yesterday, lies a sculpture of optimism...and that the journey of life never ends. 

Andy Popin

Tuesday, 27 June 2017

283: FR Retrograde Reviews - Mick Buckingham - Chihei Hatakeyama - Mirage (Room40, Kranky)

Chihei Hatakeyama, after a healthy decades good exposure in the ambient field as a torchbearer of peaceful drones and sibilance should he strike the strings of his delayed electric guitar, presents “Mirage”, an album in the vein of classics like “Saunter” from 2003 and “Light Drizzle” from 2009. Generally focussing on the possibilities of decay trails, Mirage moves with an unearthly abandon. Field recordings of industrial action and children’s play recalls Chris Dooks, while the ambience is alike to Tom Honey’s Gòod Weather For An Airstrike project.

A summary does never do Chihei Hatakeyama due justice. For all this time I have spent collecting his albums, since his major label releases (Room40, Hibernate, Nomadic Kids Republic I believe were sent demos when BVDub picked up the wings of underexposed drone exports and jet-packed them into real ambient consciousness). Wherever you picked up on Chihei – maybe even as mainstream as Wire magazine and Fluid Radio on the web...I have to assert he’s one of my top 10 droners. That list includes big names like Hakobune, Liz Harris (Grouper), Oophoi, Steve Roach, Stars Of The Lid, Simon Scott (Slowdive), Brian Eno, Harold Budd, Hammock...mmmhmmm...some of my fave “others”.
Opening with the bereft breath of “Sad Ocean”, one immediately realises this is simply breath taking music set to scenic views of ambient scenes. Car windows being opened; cool breezes blowing in; or an early morning 5am walk. Thus quality is athletic styled lather, and the soft emotional heft is rendered like real leather interior design, here lies the elasticity principle of Chihei’s sound. What is supple and you get lost in it just as you would the focus of this sentence if it curved into discussion about fabric only. I’m to question how this music collection is so important that it will soundtrack my entire life comfortably. And it does, it will, it can. This sense of comfort and familiarity one feels when taking a listen to these serene wafts of new ago atmosphere is the opposite of new age kitsch.
The answer to why “Mirage” works so well, lies in a somatic response slowness yet paradoxical freedom. Attitudinal its an escape from life’s stasis field – take the lighthouse beacon sound of “Starlight And Black Echo”. Chihei sounds like he was searching deep within when making this. The strange echoing surfeit calms the nerves and puts pay to the hauntological idea of our memories being captured and left to bounce between the speaker system. Like ghost code, it is an aural monologue...is that the meaning of the mirage, we wonder? Pulsing tones reach a refrain then ebb away into comparable dark matter. It is time to see the light, the gut feeling, the mirror; of really belonging.

Indeed this is an lp conjuring mainly lighter shades on the colour wheel of life. With a fine Eton Mess of strawberry creamed texture cranking the cooker DC until the electronics have buttered us up completely, “Distant Steam Train Whistle” introduces a atmospheric harpsichord to lay the table and create a conversation portal for less hazy, more smoky guitar. The whole thing stands up to criticism of going on too long, as to me about an hour is the perfect length for a drone fest. Given the subtle placations throughout, it is amazing the music sounds so peaceful. I’m truly in awe of its warmth.
When I consider drone benchmarks, I think Budd & Eno – The Pearl is comparable here. Nothing borders on creating non-environmental tuning – the music is subtly weaved, controlled, and never totally knockout visceral. The pastoral essence is bottled and releases in places like a effectively placed land mine...a gaseous land mind, excellently perfumed and fighting the bad odour of cheap petrol-heavy streets where everything gets recorded (unless Chihei really lives far out). Indeed, if made in the 60s, hippies would be getting high around a bong to sounds contained here.

With most of the morass a lost-phase, a haze-dream, a bushy-nature-reserve of ambient logic, the ambience throughout “Mirage” is ripe when viewed through the first year psychology topic of reverse psychology. Why is this? Because the drones are: dense, thick, organic, unfiltered, healthy and extremely nutritious in the context of the drone music lovers palette. Like the aforementioned comparison of Tom Honey’s work, “Anatolia Mirage” hums a short poem of tones – tone poetry, a melodic haiku, with drones that are rather not long-winded, instead they are carried by the wind.
The a plus transcendental introspection created by the soliptic stress-straining slipstreams cajoles the listener’s expectations like kale being filtered through a sieve. Or pillows before bedtime laid out for a siesta or long snooze. Perfect for night and day time, but cornerstone logic is for weightless contexts, in a nutshell. There needs to be music like this made, for certain. I would not mind betting Hatakeyama has a third life from production and field recording for nature program music.


If there is any weakness of “Mirage”, it is as such that it is not very energising. Some would say it is too samey. To me though, when you have mood music as classy as this, sideswipes like that become irrelevancies. It becomes meaningless. When the music is this inspiring and meaningful, on the other hand, your perspective changes. The little man in your head vanishes. At least it does mine. I’m tired of half-assed critics who don’t know what a good opus sounds like. Mark my words, there is no way any educated listener of taste could describe this music as bland.


May we see more fantastic mirages from Japanese artist Chihei in future. The lps on the Kranky repped Room40 imprint after all – it had to be something special. This to me is Chihei Hatakeyama’s most realised work to date – never disappointing, never ghostly...this time, the mirage is permanent.

Saturday, 8 April 2017

2K17 Mrb Poetry - Nature and death afflictions

Womb kicks

the blow is fetched on someone, the blow regains its power
storms blow and trespass in hemispheres
by the hourly tide 
you shone with your arms out wide
just perched there like a scarecrow
an innocent crucifix with no ribbons
and no bows. 
i would bow in your presence
but it would only sacrifice humility for pretense
the art of pompousness in portent
unrelenting destruction relating to conundrums of the soul
scoring an own goal, kicked off the pitch
wind blown in a ball, all the air kicked out of it
all the air kicked out of it
all the air
kicked out of the very thing that gave life its speed. 


Death waltz
The line
Drab
Inked into dust
Cast on the sky
A dusk constellation either way
Waltzing with sentient beings
Obsessed by atomic death
And clause by cryptographic clusters
Cloying to the mind's eye.
 Apartness
Apart you say
Who are we
Alluding to catastrophe
Dismay dismay dismay
The path seems rocky
Your bones will soon find
Frailty is not proposed by the wind
Nor is calamity produced by snow
Catastrophe, who are we
Dismay, dismay, dismay.
Apart from the seasons we experience treason
All down to psychiatric failure
No rhythm
No reason
Oh dismay
Are you fickle?
Are we a trickle
A raindrop
Dismay dismay
Oh, apart we turned to gray.
Convalescence
The transcription of wit
From an inked glass
Blotted like a murderer's paper
What are these deeds, you ask
A cornucopia caper
A trick of the devil
An illusion of relativity
Or a convalescence of greed.
The bright sun shines outside
Oh widow, won't you weep for me.
Affliction of the distinctive soul
Something comes from nothingness
Always from death to life
Pain to strife
Regenerating forwards and back like a marble lock
The smell of machinery gloats on the dock
Cogs in machines
Cogs in streams
Buried from view
Alligators swallowing marbles
Drowning the marbles of others
This ode to death cannot be recovered
It can only be docked
As a regeneration process from death to life
One which we all experience
At a later time in life.
Copyright Michael Robert Buckingham - MRB poetry 2017 all rights reserved.

Wednesday, 5 October 2016

Retrograde Reviews: Bonnie Prince Billy & Bitchin' Bajas

"Nature, makes us, for ourselves".

The music on Bonnie Prince Billy's latest rustic folk outing starts melodically enough, before embracing woodwind and the suitably gentile lines "may life throw you a pleasant curve". It's on the second track that the rhythmic focus really kicks into gear, loosening the weight of a breathy introduction. "Nature, makes us, for ourselves".

You see, with a track title aim to be storyteliing meets self-help-provoking, this album can be taken kindly to from the first listen. The meanings spread out like fireflies, meeting a warming destination, a natural concave. Bonnie Prince is ast as the governor of a hundred baritones; instruments serve his plans to assist us in becoming calmer, getting happier.

Much of the sound palette is pure rustic folk, a Johnny Cash meets Joanna Newsome quirkiness abounds throughout. There are no female vocals though, only a journeyman's horn of plenty with guitar chops to match. I first heard about BPB, not so humbly around 10 years ago, so I know he's been about the field for a long time. But at the same time, it's as if he's trod a heavy path through folk and country, meaning he understands how to not complicate a tune.

This is most evident on euphoric closing piece "Your Hard Work Is About To Pay Off. Keep On Keeping On". Incidentally the ending is abrupt, leaving the listener craving a second shot of the honey-whiskeyed atmosphere Bitchin Bajas and Billy create. That's how the record feels essentially, like whisky. It's so addictive I can drown in it, but for the luck of the draw, it's only my sorrows that are cleansed.

Mick R. Buckingham

Sunday, 24 January 2016

SubVersion Stop 261: subversive titles in Oxfordshire

I have been doing a little disc-tribut-ion of material on disc at Rapture, Witney, hometown of David Cameron and less built up connector between where I live and Oxford city.

So far, the following artwork CD-Rs have been handed over:

1. Carbonara Porcupine EP (includes commissioned remix of Kid Moxie's "The Bailor").
2. Early Riser LP (vocal guitar and piano/synth/bongo half dozen instrument proper mastered disc).

And if I can get proper pass for my reinterpretations (total remix with lyrics from the original) of tracks on this new Internal Dialogue LP - but then this one would be a free giveaway disc in respect of the creators.

A fresh Foci's Left CD-R that I'd need proper copyrights checking to release. It won't happen overnight, but I can share the continuous improvised sounds LP for free on CD.

I find it interesting how larger companies are under such legislation that remixes and reinterpretations don't automatically pass clause 4.0 of copyright, which means when we hsve bought or interpreted music, it's the same as when we sell it. We are performing it, we are living and breathing it, spinning a new web from it, creating our own version, discomputing the score and starting afresh.

And at the same time, we are paying tribute to the creators of the very music that inspired us. It's a healthy relationship if machinery grants you easy access to copying and henceforth disctribution - if it doesn't, maybe things should stay that way.