Part three of the TVD Record Store Club’s look at the new and reissued releases presently in stores for September 2020. Part one is here and part two is here.
NEW RELEASE PICKS: Profligate, Too Numb to Know (Wharf Cat) Although three volumes of demo tapes have been released since, the last “new” full-length from Profligate, which is the work of songwriter Noah Anthony, was Somewhere Else, released in January 2018, his first for Wharf Cat. That record found him working in territory comparable to synth-pop but with injections of abrasiveness and a general mood that was nearer to darkwave (which isn’t 1,000 miles away from synth-pop, but still), and it was a strong enough effort to receive a new release pick in this column. Well, the writing of Anthony’s latest, which began in Philadelphia, continued after a move to Los Angeles, and then following the theft of a laptop, was restarted in Cleveland, makes significant inroads into the realms of songs over electronic environments, though Too Numb to Know is still aptly categorized as synth-pop (but with some rewardingly atypical use of electric guitar). However, as the title might suggest, the attitude (one could even say atmosphere) is nearer to dour than sunshiny, and that’s A-OK with me, bud. A-
Christopher Parker & Kelley Hurt, No Tears Suite (Mahakala Music) This CD features pianist Parker and vocalist Hurt’s composition, initially written in commemoration and celebration of the 60th anniversary of the Little Rock Nine’s historic enrollment in their city’s Central High School. It’s a work of substantial richness and power that is only heightened by its connection to the Arkansas community, as Parker was born in North Little Rock. Additionally, the piece was composed for the literary magazine Oxford American, which is based in the city. It premiered in 2017 with a strong band that featured Parker, Hurt, Marc Franklin on trumpet, Chad Fowler on alto, Bobby LaVell on tenor, Bill Huntington on bass, and Brian Blade on drums, the lineup heard on the disc, which comes in an attractive, informative 6 panel package.
Fitting for its conception as a historical act of tribute and remembrance, No Tears Suite is a journey deep into the heart of jazz greatness as established by the form’s masterworks of the mid-20th century. Indeed, it’s almost scholarly in comportment, as Parker has studied and taught extensively, but that’s no fault, as there is also crucial warmth and verve. Consistently accessible throughout, Hurt’s contribution, which can described as serving a narrative function, is as pleasing to the ear as it is informative, and deepens the suite’s distinctiveness as the music is at times reminiscent of Mingus, Duke, Benny Golson’s work with Art Farmer, and Max Roach’s with Abbey Lincoln. Also, the release of No Tears Suite will be accompanied by a free streaming listen of the 2019 live performance from Little Rock featuring the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra and with arrangements by the great bassist Rufus Reid. For the curious, it’ll serve as a fine introduction to Parker and Hurt’s work and will stand as a splendidly robust and wholly satisfying expansion for those who choose to immediately scoop up the studio recording. A / A
REISSUE/ARCHIVAL PICK: Rüstəm Quliyev, Azerbaijani Gitara (Bongo Joe) Born in 1969 in the village of Kosalar, Nagorno Karabakh, in the Republic of Azerbaijan (formerly part of the USSR), Quliyev’s music is a sweet find, well, a bittersweet find as he died young after a battle with lung cancer. Encountering the guitar while doing military service in Russia, but wasted no time in mastering it upon returning to Azerbaijan (he was already proficient on the tar and the saz), where he recorded frequently on cassettes released by small local labels, as well as playing weddings and appearing in TV. This is his first international release, made with the approval and input of Quliyev’s family, and it details a personal style that is assessed as a step (or steps) beyond the “already idiosyncratic” Azerbaijani guitar scene. Launching from his country’s traditional music, Quliyev incorporated a wealth of outside influences (Indian, Afghan, Iranian, Spanish) for an expansive, and dare I say psychedelic, ride. And after getting acclimated to the sound, “Yaniq Kerem” (track seven) hits the ear, and it’s like, “aww, yes…” A-
NEW RELEASE PICKS: Osees, Protean Threat (Castle Face) Having undertaken yet another shift in moniker (which actually commenced with the release of the two-song “The 12” Synth” EP late last year), this highly productive Cali band (most prominently known as OCS and then a handful of variations on The Oh Sees) puts another full-length in the bins with nary a trace of creative fatigue. The contents are less prog-tastic than on their last couple, as they more often tap into a blend of art-punk and heavy psych but with a focus on grooves that can, at times, become considerably funky and less Krautrock-derived than on prior records. Plus, there is persistent synth gurgle and splatter that on a few occasions had me thinking of Chrome. Opening with enough speed and fuzz to give a room full of hardcore freaks a squeeze right where they want it, this aggressive forward motion gets alternated with some post-Wavoid herky-jerk spazz, but highly muscular, as is the Osees way. Things just roll from there. The record’s initial conception as a flowing, continuous piece is still quite tangible, and that’s just fine. A-
Jon Hassell, Seeing Through Sound (Pentimento Volume Two) (Ndeya) This set’s predecessor, Listening To Pictures (Pentimento Volume One), came out in June of 2018 and was the groundbreaking trumpeter’s first album in nine years; it also launched Hassell’s own label, which brought out a sterling vinyl reissue of Vernal Equinox, his 1977 debut, in March of this year. And so, Hassell’s achievements have been impacting my consciousness lately (Flash of the Spirit, his 1988 collab with Burkina Faso group Farafina, was reissued in February), but what’s foremost in my mind after soaking up Seeing Through Sound is how the man has not only not lost a step in terms of quality, but additionally, how fresh this album is in the context of the ambient genre in general and as a continuation of his Fourth World ethos more specifically. Occasionally, pioneering musicians end up getting overtaken by subsequent advancements from the hoards they influenced, but that’s not the case with Hassell, in part because his work is so eclectic that it remains resistant to imitation. That’s why Seeing Through Sound is up top. A-
REISSUE/ARCHIVAL PICK: V/A, The Missing Link: How Gus Haenschen Got Us From Joplin to Jazz and Shaped the Music Business (Archeophone) Of the three Archeophone releases covered in this column this week (which shape up the label’s Spring 2020 entries to their catalog), this one is the most purely enjoyable while simultaneously providing revelatory insight into the recorded history of early jazz, so it gets the archival pick even though it’s CD-only. It does come with a 31-page booklet loaded with info from essayist Colin Hancock, the text detailing Gus Haenschen’s long career in music, which started in St. Louis with tutelage from Scott Joplin shortly after the turn of the 20
NEW RELEASE PICKS: Grex, Everything You Said Was Wrong (Geomancy) To begin, this album’s release is being celebrated with the Lockdown Festival 3 livestream on Saturday September 5 at 4pm-9pm PDT, which will be streaming on 
Jesse Draxler, Reigning Cement (Federal Prisoner) Each of the 22 tracks here is credited to a different person, collaboration or group, so this can be described as a compilation, but it’s better assessed as an audio-visual/ conceptual art project that combines a 100-pg book of Draxler’s photographs and collages, noted as location-specific (Los Angeles), with a vinyl record of music by artists all handpicked by Draxler. To get a little deeper, the musicians were all provided with the same 34 sonic elements recorded by Drexler with which to create their piece; the only additional ingredient allowed was vocals if they so desired. Rather than include the entire list of contributors here, I’ll just say that much of the contents belong to the noise camp, with some entries abstract and others structural in a manner reminiscent of the Industrial genre at its most sonically extreme, but also, Japanoise purveyors like Masonna and Merzbow. However, some selections do depart from a tendency for surliness and abrasion, emitting dance thump and even a few poppish turns. It’s all dark, though. Vinyl+book in an edition of 500. A-
Emily Barker, A Dark Murmuration of Words (Thirty Tigers) This is Barker’s fourth solo album, though she has more than doubled that number of releases as a member of groups and in collaborations spanning back to 2003. A native of Australia, she’s resided in the UK for a while now, and her work has occasionally been tagged as Americana; Barker’s last album, 2017’s Sweet Kind of Blue, was recorded in Memphis at Sam Phillips’ joint. Her work on this follow-up can just as easily be categorized as folk, with the string arrangements (by Barker, Misha Law, and Emily Hall) emphasizing Britishness that’s contrasted by the desire for a more contemporary sound, though this aim should be contextualized as possessing tastefulness, restraint mingled with boldness, and a simultaneous desire to extend from folk classicism as a reservoir of beauty. Barker is a fine singer, her songs carry emotional heft, the playing is rich and instrumentally diverse, and “Machines” even kicks up a little racket. Very nice. A-
Andrew Wasylyk, Fugitive Light and Themes of Consolation (Athens of the North) This is the third in a trio of instrumental records from multi-instrumentalist Wasylyk, who was (and is likely still) a member (as Andrew Mitchell) of The Hazey Janes, a Scottish indie pop act of whom my impression has been mostly positive (he’s also played in Idlewild). The stated intent with these three records is to evoke the Eastern Scottish landscape, and without ever having been there, I’ll say he’s done a solid job of it, The selections on Fugitive Light, as on the prior entries, can be described as cinematic (one might also draw a subtle connection to post-rock). Wasylyk mostly plays guitars and keyboards across these ten selections, but also notably harp in the album highlight “(Half-Light Of) The Cadmium Moon,” which reinforces the influence of Alice Coltrane. As on the prior installment The Paralian from last year, Pete Harvey of King Creosote and Modern Studies contributes string arrangements, but it’s Wasylyk’s input that registers most strongly, and I’ll conclude by saying this is the best of his solo conceptual bunch. A-
Released in 1971, New Direction is essentially a piano trio, with drums by Steve Clover and bass by either Henry Franklin or Larry Gates, and the lineup augmented on a few tracks with congas, notably played by drummer Tony Williams. The album consists entirely of cover selections, and has a decidedly soul-jazz feel; on one hand, it can be described as a blend of Ahmad Jamal, Red Garland and Ramsey Lewis, but with a welcome predilection for bluesy numbers.
At a glance it would seem that Judy Dyble is uncommonly familiar with the precipice of fame. To begin, she was replaced in Fairport Convention by Sandy Denny before the group broke big (in context). But if overshadowed her contribution was far from negligible; there’s the sunshiny psych-folk of the debut single’s “If I Had a Ribbon Bow” plus two Joni Mitchell interpretations, “I Don’t Know Where I Stand” and “Chelsea Morning,” strengthening the eponymous first album. She also co-wrote the nifty instrumental “Portfolio” with Ashley Hutchings.
NEW RELEASE PICK: Fay Wildhagen, Leave Me to the Moon (Live in Oslo) (Warner Music Norway) While she’s tersely described as a Norwegian folk-pop singer-songwriter, that shortchanges the strength of Wildhagen’s vocalizing and doesn’t even touch upon her guitar skills, which are considerable. There is also a grand, dare I say Nordic, sweep to her work, that on this performance document spills forth with a flowing continuity eschewing the familiar trappings of a live recording (at least in the audio I was provided); there’s no explication or conversation, but also a lack of applause, which gets back to the flow, or as said, the sweep, of the music as it progresses. There are a few spots where this sweep borders on becoming too grand (and in a manner akin to other music from Wildhagen’s geographical region), but this impulse is ultimately kept in check, and overall, Leave Me to the Moon serves as a highly engaging introduction to the artist. B+
REISSUE/ARCHIVAL PICKS: Galaxie 500, Copenhagen (20/20/20) Having been lucky enough to catch a show by this band at the old, dank 9:30 Club in Washington, DC (with Velocity Girl opening) on their tour for their final studio album This is Our Music, I was truly gassed when this live recording hit stores in 1997, particularly as offering selections from all three of their LPs on the last show of their final European tour, it was roughly of the same vintage as the show I witnessed. After spending time with Copenhagen back then, I was pleased but also struck by the air of a fantastic band nearing the end of their time together, something I hadn’t picked up on as they played in front of me, or after; I walked out onto 14th St. that night elated that they’d encored with “Ceremony.” Over time, the bittersweet feeling inspired by Copenhagen subsided and I was left with some fine music. It’s hard to pick a favorite from the set, but Wareham’s guitar in “Summertime” is massive. A-
Ned Lagin, Seastones: Set 4 and Set 5 (Important) Jerry Garcia, Phil Lesh, and Mickey Hart all contribute to this LP, with Round Records, the short-lived label founded by Garcia and Ron Rakow, having initially released it in 1975, so it’s kind of impossible to contemplate this serving of experimental electronics without also thinking about the Grateful Dead. But hey, David Crosby, Spencer Dryden, Grace Slick, and David Frieberg are here, too. I can recall hitting this record store in Northern VA a few times a year in the early 1990s, and on every visit, I’d see the same copy of this LP. Due to the title I assumed it was just ocean sounds and paid it no further mind. Well, I bring it up because that record is not this record. The covers are different, sure, but so is the music, as this edition assembles 18 tracks from the Seastones undertaking (which totals 83, the whole bunch self-released by Lagin on 2CD in 2018), some from the original LP, some not. Academics were in Lagin’s background, but his sounds encompass more than conservatory-spawned electronic abstraction. Much more, including proto-New Age and space drift. A-
V/A, The Land of Sensations & Delights: The Psych Pop Sounds of White Whale Records, 1965–1970 (Craft Recordings) My introduction to White Whale came by sponging up second-hand copies of The Turtles’ back catalog, and I suspect I’m not alone in this route of discovery. Well, The Turtles aren’t on this comp, as after a long stretch of bad litigiousness on the part of White Whale’s operators, Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman own their catalog. Craft currently owns the rest of the discography, and they’ve put together a doozy of a 2LP here, with the contents really illuminating the label’s multipronged specialties of garage-rock, pop-psych, sunshine-pop, baroque-pop, and even borderline bubblegum. Not every non-Turtles killer the label put out is here, which bodes well for an additional installment or even two, but The Laughing Gravy’s cover of The Beach Boys’ “Vegetables” is, and so is The Clique’s “Superman.” But there are 24 more, and it suffices to say that anybody who’s ever gotten gooseflesh while listening to “Care of Cell 44” should be satisfied with this one. A-
NEW RELEASE PICKS: Daniel Blumberg, On&On (Mute) A record exceeding my expectations is always a wonderful thing. Not that my anticipation gauge was set low for this effort by Blumberg, it’s just that I missed his 2018 debut for Mute, Minus, and mainly knew him as the former guitarist for the band Yuck. Now, I thought Yuck was just fine, but in my experience, they were ultimately just one band amongst many, and the scoop with On&On is that in an even larger field of singer-songwriters, Blumberg stands apart. It’s worth noting that Blumberg left Yuck after their first album (before that, he was in Cajun Dance Party, whom I don’t think I’ve ever heard), and subsequent to his departure, he’s been up to some interesting things, though I learned of these activities only after being struck by the quality of his newest record. That On&On was released by Mute was enough for me to cue up the music without further PR browsing.
V/A, Total 20 (Kompakt) This is indeed volume 20 in Kompakt’s annual series of techno compilations, and as electronic dance music is a genre where high quality and longevity aren’t commonly shared traits, that Total 20 maintains the standard established across the prior two decades is worthy of note alongside deserved anniversary commemoration. But here’s something else; the music that fortifies the Total series (and by extension, the Kompakt label overall) is club music at its impetus, which is kind of an obvious thing to say, but I had to be reminded of it, or more specifically, that 2020, while a horrendous year with a little over four months to go, has been especially hard on club culture. With this in mind, Total 20 flicks my switch with a little more gusto than usual, but I can also detach from the sentimentality of Kompakt’s persistence and say that the bangers in this nearly three-hour run-time are doing more than just banging, while the pop-angled numbers are inventive and inspired. Kudos! A-
Alan Braufman, The Fire Still Burns (Valley of Search) Alto saxophonist Braufman’s Valley of Search, which was released in 1975 by the India Navigation label and reissued to much acclaim (including my long review for TVD) in 2018, is a rediscovered gem of loft-era NYC free jazz gush, and this new set, with Braufman’s longtime friend and collaborator Cooper-Moore returning on piano from the earlier recording, is clearly intended as an extension of aesthetic principles, with the very title driving this home. However, Braufman has grown compositionally (all the pieces are his) in the decades since and embraced a few accessible melodic motifs, hitting an apex in this regard with “Alone Again,” and with finale “City Nights” even dishing a borderline groove cooker. These developments set this LP apart, but ultimately for the better, even as I’m likely to always prefer the wildness of ’75.
Split, the fourth album from UK blues-rockers The Groundhogs, wasn’t quite as ambitious as their prior set, 1970’s Thank Christ for the Bomb, but the first side of this ’71 effort does consist of the title track in four (distinct) parts, so it’s not like they regressed into 12-bar hackery. Christ was reissued by Fire last year along with a second disc of material, and as the full title Split + Extras should make clear, the generosity is repeated here.
Solo albums generally work best when they provide some sort of departure from the artist’s main gig, and Alan Vega surely fits that bill. Suicide’s second album (titled Suicide: Alan Vega and Martin Rev), illuminates the duo’s connection to synth-pop and electronica; Alan Vega was released shortly afterward, and is succinctly described as an off kilter early rock ‘n’ roll experience, landing halfway between revamp and throwback.
NEW RELEASE PICKS: Guided by Voices, Mirrored Aztec (GBV Inc) The Guided by Voices recipe consists of classic ingredients: hypothetically, that crotchety uncle of yours who hasn’t bought a new record since Steel Wheels should be a huge fan, but you know your uncle; he’s not down with GBV. In the early days, it was exceedingly short songs and lo-fi atmospheres that kept Pollard and crew from being mistaken as neo-trad pop-rock, but as time wore on and something resembling normalcy set in, the appealing eccentricities of the leader’s personal approach set matters apart right up to that long farewell lap in 2004. Post-comeback, much of the discussion has been about Pollard’s freakish prolificacy and consistency of goodness, of which there is really no precedent, except maybe for a while, The Fall. The big diff is Bob’s Warholian quality grip on distilling those classic elements (possibly another reason your uncle doesn’t like GBV) so they’re recognizable, but not the same. So it is with Mirrored Aztec. A-
Erasure, The Neon (Mute) I’m old enough to recall Vince Clarke and Andy Bell, the duo comprising Erasure, bursting onto the ’80s synth-pop scene, and while I enjoyed them back then I’ll confess to not keeping up…well, I really haven’t kept up, as The Neon is their 18th studio album. I can’t say I’ve heard more than six, but I do own the first three, and this tidy set retains, against considerable odds, the inspired, effervescent appeal of their early work. Something I’ve always admired about Clarke, going all the way back to Depeche Mode’s Speak & Spell, is his unabashed preference for pop in a classic tradition, dealing lyrically in tried-and-true themes minus angst, while as a singer, he’s a crooner at heart (which works well as maturity sets in). Not only are the songs surprisingly sturdy on this set, they get a little stronger as the finale approaches, with the best two sequenced at the end. Overall, in pure synth-pop terms, The Neon can serve as a tutorial for the style’s endless Johnnies and Janes come lately. A-
REISSUE/ARCHIVAL PICKS: Tom Tom Club, S/T (Real Gone) The 1981 debut from Chris Franz’s and Tina Weymouth’s side-project in downtime from Talking Heads has been reissued on wax numerous times by Real Gone, so this could be considered a lazy choice for pick status, but this go-round, which is on tropical yellow and red vinyl as a tribute to the recording’s location of Barbados, is already listed as sold out on the label’s website, and the release date isn’t until Aug 21. This obviously underscores the love that’s accrued for the record over the years (which is interesting, as my recollection from the late ’80s is that many at the time, at least out in the ‘burbs, considered it something of a curiosity), but it also reflects its influence. I’ve positively reviewed a slew of releases that are frankly unimaginable without Tom Tom Club’s existence, and I feel like a stupe for not giving it more props. A robust dose of Downtown NYC, with deep cuts that don’t falter. I adore “Under the Boardwalk.” A
Alan Wakeman, The Octet Broadcasts 1969 and 1979 (Gearbox) In rock circles, and specifically the prog sphere, saxophonist Alan Wakeman is recognized for his playing in Soft Machine, appearing on the 1976 album Softs, and for playing on a string of records by his countryman, David “Rock On” Essex. But I’m guessing aficionados of British jazz will know him best for his work in the groups of Mike Westbrook, Graham Collier, Johnny Dankworth, and Barry Guy. However, as this release makes clear, he also led his own band, with these previously unreleased radio broadcasts for the BBC a delightful surprise, featuring two different octets across two discs on LP (and a single CD) with a bunch of notables on hand including reedman Mike Osborne (’69), drummer Paul Lytton (’69), tenor saxophonist Art Theman (’79), and pianist Gordon Beck (’79).
Blending together the budding Philly soul sound of the era, elements of Motown-ish psychedelia, a decidedly Family Stone-like tendency (a la organ and stinging rock guitar), and as the moniker indicates, a heaping helping of socially inclined themes, the record unwinds enjoyably enough, with the (possibly faux) sitar injections lending distinctiveness and the vocal harmonies strong throughout (Major Harris, later of the Delfonics, was a member).
