Despite the unfortunate title, Diaper Island is an amazing, heady mix of reverbed mood woven with a voice that at times seems barely strong enough to sustain the weight of the sometimes sad words sung. I had somehow missed the boat on finding him through any of his previous three releases, but I’m more than happy with what I’ve found. The album is a tender mix of beautifully paranoid and touching songwriting, all articulated with a delicacy that few can match.

Though off of 2008′s Soft Airplane, the tremendous ‘Rabid Bits of Time’ was featured on the soundtrack of the 2011 film Norman and sums up all that is beautiful and fragile about VanGaalen’s songwriting:

I can count on one hand, the number of times that I listened to Isam this year but it still deserves a place on this year-end tally. The album is a solid listen, best with a nice pair of headphones to appreciate the intricacies of the production, but the best way to experience the album is in a far less intimate context: live. The limited tour cycle for Isam landed it showing at 2011′s Moogfest and the fact that this was part of the lineup was my primary reason for attending the festival. Despite being stuck in the middle of cluster of teenage drug vacuums chattering through most of the set, Isam was still one of the best live music experiences I’ve ever seen. The mix of incredible texture mapping, lush CG and body enveloping bass was nearly perfect, winding a very loose sci-fi narrative through the wordless breaks. Isam doesn’t rely purely on psychedelic overload; instead moves the music through massive space ships, broken wastelands and syncopated geometric concoctions that…I hate this phrase, but it’s true…must be seen to be believed.

If Amon Tobin ever decides to take this display on the road again, definitely go out of your way to see it.

A snippet of the show:

A look at the planning and design of Isam:

The halting stumble of Bowser’s beats combined with the cryptic chip melodies makes for a complicated but rewarding listen. Born out of LA’s Low End Theory scene, the album encompasses the best of the electronic weird and serves as a great example of the genre recently tagged as ‘futurebeats.’ The highlight of the album is the track ‘Andrew’ which mashes slivers of broken voice synthesis with a crisp headnodding beat. Perfect soundtrack to the endless boss battle that is daily life.

Though Galactic Melt suffers from touches of sameness, when it connects…everything bleeds together beautifully. It comes off like the Blade Runner soundtrack siphoned through a stack of records by Gary Numan and Flying Lotus. Crystal clear snares shuttle around on beds of dystopian synth stabs, presenting something that feels both sterile and warm at the same time. His sound is unique, you don’t often mistake a Com Truise track for the work of anyone else.

At first listen, I couldn’t find anything compelling about Active Child. I had breezed by “Hanging On”, which was offered up free as part of Adult Swim’s 2011 Singles Program, but no part of it clicked. At this year’s spectacular Moogfest, Active Child had the first slot of the final day, proceeding M83. In an effort to grab a nice spot for the second act and having maxed out the number of times I could eat at one of the best indian restaurants in existence, I swung by venue before their set. Half interested, I sat in front of the sound board for Active Child’s performance and live, the weird majesty of Pat Grossi’s voice blooms. His harp playing is certainly interesting, but the soaring banking of his falsetto is amazing. Additionally, the decision to have a live drummer playing a trigger kit added a much needed layer of complexity to the stage presence. There’s just something beneficial to having a guy assuming the role of a ‘drummer’ in the band context rather than someone punching buttons on hard to see box. (To be fair, I’m a big fan of MPC wizards like Jel and Araabmuzk, though that works best as a solo venture)

Anyhoo, after returning home, I gave the album another shot and the ghostly melodies from the show had worked their way into my brain. The album clicked and I found it was all I felt like listening to. The charm of their sound lies in the hazy atmospherics that arise when you blend Grossi’s bizarrely enchanting voice with the minimal electronic percussion and plucked harp. There are moments when I could definitely fault the lyrical content for a few moments of mopey melodrama, but it falls to the wayside when blended into the mix. Ultimately, the biggest draw of You Are All I See is one of the most interesting releases of the year and well worth the cost of admission live.

You can grab the CFCF remix of “High Priestess” from the label’s soundcloud:

And, seriously, if you find yourself in Asheville, NC for Moogfest or otherwise, please do go eat a meal at Chai Pani. It’s probably some of the best indian food in the country.

Technically, Strike Hard, Young Diamond came out in November of 2010, but it occupied much of my listening during early 2011. When this site was more active and I got more random e-blasts from bands, I did my best to sample a bit of each I received. Wildlife was a find through some successful PR assault; offering up a few song sampler via their bandcamp. At a quick glance, I was content enough in the fact that lead singer Dean Povinsky’s voice has a similar tone to Sunset Rubdown’s Spencer Krug. There’s also similarities to Apologies To Queen Mary-era Wolf Parade, something dear to my heart. For those reasons, I gave the full album my attention and found that it’s gleeful, exuberant stuff that admittedly strays at times into flourishes of melodrama, but I love it still. Sometimes a band like this can ride so much on the energy that bristles through their music, carrying the listener along on the cacauphious rush.

Check out the live version of “Stand In the Water” below, though the standout track of Strike Hard, Young Diamond is “Brand New Weapon” which you can listen to here.

Every so often the blog world gloms onto something minimal and I’m pretty content with 2011′s idolatry of Hecker’s fantastic Ravedeath 1972. I personally have a long and sorted history with drone and minimalsim, spending much of my late teens immersed in it, though little in recent years has caught me. I got pretty excited for Blanck Mass, but didn’t find much to cling to upon digging in. Ravedeath, 1972 initially skirted my love as well, until I had the chance to take it in live. Experimental music is a sincere challenge in a live context, minimalism posting an even grater challenge than the harder stuff. Asheville’s Moogfest provided me with a chance see him perform, slotted before Amon Tobin’s immersive Isiam. Hecker’s visual presence was the stark opposite with Hecker barely visible enshrouded by gear and monitors on the massive civic center stage. Musically, the sounds of Ravedeath 1972 came to life, revealing layer after layer of lush undulation. Variation is key to the sustained enjoyment of experimental music and the strata of Hecker’s music bristled with energy in the live context. Ravedeath, 1972 stands as one of the best of the year; an opulent mass of resonance that is worth the time to explore.

For a rising hip-hop producer to position himself as Araabmuzik has done with his debut Electronic Dream, is a very questionable move. Taking the hard edge sound he’s cultivated in the tracks produced for Cam’ron & Busta Rhymes and melding it with a bizarre fetish for rare trance gems looks on paper like a a disturbing mess, but somehow Araabmuzik manages to make it coalesce. The hybrid concoction of razor sharp beats and cooing 90′s trance hooks makes for something wholly unique and strong enough to sustain repeated listens. The odd sandwich of sound will probably draw ire from fans of his previous production and struggle to find a good public venue to be played loudly, but the strength of his identity pours through each track. Should all else fail, he’s still doing killer live sets that draw from even odder source materials: muddling the same crisp beats with chopped samples of even more out of character metal riffs from the likes of Cannibal Corpse and occasionally slipping into pure abstract noise. Either way, his skills on the MPC are unrivaled and whatever he chooses to do next will be worth listening to.

Markus Popp has crafted some of the more interesting and complex minimal electro in recent years. The pinnacle of his earlier work came with the mid 90′s pair of releases Systemische and 94 Diskont, which rose to the pinnacle of pastoral glitchy soundscapes. Then a trio, the music was centered around worship of the accidental; they would take cds of crafted samples, scratch them up and re-sample the results. Through a heavy amount of processing, what could easily be incredibly harsh becomes a warm bath of digital tones backed by discreet rhythms made of pops and skips. Now primarily the sole work of Popp, with former bandmate Frank Metzger handling the design work, he’s back after nearly a decade off with a new spin on the Oval music.

The surprises some early in Oh, the most recent EP release from Oval, clearly detailed in the opening track ‘Hey’. After an initially calm 2 minutes of synth wash and glitchy tones bouncing around the track, a clear burst of drums rounds out the mix. Such distinct instrumentation was rarely found on earlier works, but the kinetic flourishes and free jazz fills match the energy of the lead melody and don’t come across as too jarring.

The third track ‘Grrr’ feels a bit darker, like a fax machine drunkenly crooning Standards-era Tortoise. Comparisons to the band are fair, as Popp is now labelmates wth Tortoise and much of the US probably first grew aware of Oval via their mid-ninties remixes for the band. Spazzy, almost digital interpretations of guitar fed through a variety of filters and finely chopped become the lead, making for something at once soothing and jarring,

The latter half of the EP is slightly more traditional Oval, featuring more abstract tone poems: as much meditations on style as they are functioning songs. Taking improvised sounding fret tapping and layering in digital elements, ultimately what is created is something that tricks the ear. Any attempt to consciously recognize what is organic and what is electronic becomes an empty quest and it’s best to simply be tugged along by the flow. Some of the shorter songs may feel like they end abruptly, but you’re left with a satisfying listen and some anticipation towards next month’s full length O.

Here’s one of less beat driven, more abstract songs from Oh:

OVAL – KASTELL 4

The cover art, affixed as a hand glued card to the 1,000 piece limited run vinyl comes from a still of ‘From Here To Ear’ (2007) by French artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot, Video of the piece made the blog rounds earlier this year:

The installation is a walk through of an aviary populated by Zebra finches and plugged in electric guitars. As the birds do what birds do, as well react to the passing guests, they muck about with strings and frets doing their best to cover early Sonic Youth. There’s some correlation between Boursier-Mougenot’s piece and both the technical approach and tonal structure of Oval. The random flecks of tone and the abstract routes melody take can be found thoughout Popp’s catalog as well in ‘From Here To Ear’. The use of a still from the piece is the only connection however, as Disquet found out from a Thrill Jockey rep that Boursier-Mougenot has no involvement with the music and he just allowed use of the image.

While I’m on the subject, take a look at Hanes Broecker’s ‘Drink Away The Art,’ a piece which pretty much functions as the title implies while still remaining interesting.

Oh was released June 15th, 2010 via Thrill Jockey. The first pressing of the EP, which was pressed on 150 gram white vinyl and featured a hand glued still from Céleste Boursier-Mougenot’s ‘From Here To Ear’ has sold out. Check back with Thrill Jockey to see when it is repressed, though you can get it digitally from the label as well. Oval’s next release come in early September and will be a double disk/vinyl full length that will feature 70 songs, a sample of which can be found over at Disquet.

There’s a lot contained below the surface of Eskimo Snow and what’s underneath is not entirely an uplifting affair. The album, which was released in late September on Anticon Records, is almost completely devoid of the hip-hop sheen that glossed both Elephant Eyelash and Alopecia and what is left settles with much more heft and weight. Much of the humorous subtext is gone as well, though the wordplay left behind is no less clever. The album gives off the air of a defeated narrator, be it Yoni himself or the character he’s woven into the band’s three albums, someone who has laid down his arms in light of the arriving war. The first two albums settled a mixture of reaction to the world around him with wry commentary, Elephant Eyelash brimming with a bit more uptempo sadness followed by Alopecia’s growing frustration. Put in context, the core of Eskimo Snow, in both lyrics and music is something more introspective

I had the pleasure of interviewing Yoni back in early 2006 just before one of their opening shows for The Silver Jews at Chicago’s Double Door. The read I got off him then was a sincere one, as he was a genuinely kind and grounded guy who spoke with as much sincerity off the stage as he did in his lyrics. Between then and now, one has to assume that as you progress as a person of interest in the public eye, there is a divergence between the self you present in your art and the self you live. Over the course of the last two albums, it’s safe to guess that more of a ‘narrative interpretation of Yoni’ has crept into the lyrics. The process of exposing yourself through your art, especially to the extreme that he does can create two representations of one’s self. Even with those ideas are taken into account, Alopecia and Eskimo Snow were born of the same recording sessions, so to say that there’s an evolution over time could be a less than true guess.

Character analysis aside, when you take away the hip-hop sway and gloss humor, what’s left at the core is a dense affair. The same themes of morality, self image, and mortality run through the core of this record. The songs stand strong individually despite the brief length of some, like the hypnotic album opener These Hands. This pairs a rising coo of discordant backup vocals with Yoni’s comparison of his own life’s progress to his father’s. The deep reverb on his voice paired with the lonely piano chords makes for something that creeps under the skin and at under two minutes is gone before you really recognize what is going on.

Why? – These Hands

Another highlight rests with Into The Shadows Of My Embrace, which leans on a swirl of keyboards and xylophone as it marches toward an almost melodramatic musical and lyrical peak where he sings about the extreme of his confessional nature. The kind of straight pop style that he uses in songs like this and Alopecia’s Simeon’s Dilemma and Brook & Waxing were a shift in style that I had to really wrap my head around, but the way they’re executed it grows on you.

Why? – Into the Shadows of My Embrace

With the tour supporting this album, there was a pretty interesting shift in the band’s setup. My last show in Portland was them with the charmingly enigmatic Phil Elverum, this time doing what could best be described as epic Anacortes sludge metal. Why?’s live setup for this tour featured Andrew Broder and Mark Erickson of Fog, so that the full band that participated in the Eskimo Snow and Alopecia recording sessions was present. Earlier tours, they’d shift up the arrangement and subtract elements to perform the songs live, but the full roster of folks on stage allowed for a pretty fair recreation of the album’s sound, down to the barely there backup vocals on Against Me which I always chalked up to reverb. Usually, Yoni would have a setup of a snare drum and a keyboard hooked up to a few effects pedals, but now he was able to function more as a lead man, free to move around the stage untethered. Overall, the show was the most solid and confidant I’ve seen them yet, a reflection on the changes musically and lyrically on the album.

Ultimately, Eskimo Snow chopped up snippets of someone’s life, very much not my own, but the emotion behind it all rings true with me. The feeling of frustration and exhaustion, that I feel a lot of people are suffering through as the world lets loose what could only be described as a massive economic sigh. The emotional pull of the album is more important than the specifics of musical influences or which track hides the cleverest lyric, as Eskimo Snow yields a rewarding listen weather you take the stories as truth or fragments of Mr. Wolf’s own mythos.

Eskimo Snow was released by Anticon Records on September 22nd 2009