MUSIC REVIEWS
Caspar Broetzmann - Kiksofen
Dead Can Dance - Into The Labyrinth
Club Foot Orchestra - Wild Beasts Kidnapped and More
Charles Mingus - Thirteen Pictures: The Charles Mingus Anthology
His Name Is Alive - Mouth By Mouth
MassakerHomestead
Guitarist Broetzmann and his Massaker rework noise elements into epic song forms. Broetzmann's pop (the relation, not the style), Peter, is a master sax blower of the post-Ayler school, so Caspar's a chip off a noisy block. Within long, pulsing trio structures, Broetzmann wracks his guitar, sometimes playing sheet-like chords, mostly wrenching out terse crackles, volatile explosions, and rich, bell-like tones. The "traditions" of Einstuerzende Neubauten, Borbetomagus, and George Crumb mesh into a thick rhythmic stew of dark poetry and deftly controlled guitar/amplifier creations.
A&M Records
Mezcal Head accelerates with straight-ahead, infectious grooves in a way Raise never did. A tad poppier and less whiny than that first LP, this is angst-free, violence-free rock at its best, bursting with The Swervie's own brand of distortion, mood, and catchy melody. Next time you see one of those cool Futuras with a 20-something driver speeding down a dusky suburban dirt road, windows down, stereo blasting, listen closely. You'll probably hear the strains of Mezcal Head hanging in the air amidst the dust.
4AD Records
Through a preternatural, primal forest waft transcendent lyrical strains and the thumps of a thousand heartbeats. A blending of cultures, epochs, and influences - and the culmination of three years of rural meditation in the far reaches of Ireland and the mountains of Australia - Into The Labyrinth graciously leads the listener through a richly tonal forest of multicolored mists. Slithering through the branches are Indian, Irish, English, and modern musical sensibilities, artfully blended and skillfully crafted. The forest's dense ancestry expands with each listen.
Reprise
The idea was a cool one: a sci-fi theme album by someone other than a heavy metal or art rock band. The execution is tepid at best. This eight-song cycle paints a retro-futuristic world in which Fagen's '50s nostalgia meets high-tech millennialism. But the problem's in the music. It's a tired retread of the studio-intensive blues-rock, white-bred-funk that made Steely Dan, and later Night Fly, so successful. Nothing new here, and certainly little to fulfill the promise of the album's lyrics and overall concept.
Rastascan
Slippery as a sizzlin' sausage, the nine-to-thirteen-piece Club Foot Orchestra weaves a complex web of melody and texture around skitchy polyrhythms and butt-thumpin' shuffles. Originally a dance band, the Orchestra currently performs live soundtracks to silent films, but this re- issue includes their first two LPs and then some - a digital document of loopily energetic stuff: sharp arrangements, crisp drumming, and the occasional fanciful, fluttering solo. Perfect for the swank occasion or the twenty-hour drive, this is egalitarian neo-populist swing for the next millennium.
Real World
You may have seen Kenyan Ayub Ogada a couple of years ago - busking in the London Underground. You were mesmerized by his pure voice, his spare nyatiti picking. Minimalist. Spiritual. Reminiscent of Brazil's Milton Nascimento and Nana Vasconcelos. A different kind of trance music. Now, thanks to Peter Gabriel's Real World Records, you can enjoy Ogada in your local underground. Adjust your WalkMan. Close your eyes. Relax - you are floating in the soft swells of the blood-warm Indian Ocean off Mombassa.
Rhino Records
The remarkable Charles Mingus, who died in 1979, left behind a large recorded legacy spanning 35 years and nearly a dozen record labels. This two-CD collection can only scratch the surface, but it presents a good introduction to the Mingus oeuvre. A master instrumentalist, Mingus's real genius lay in composition. His unique style continues to blur the distinction between notated music and improvisation. Selections offer solo piano, small combos, and larger ensembles, with many talented, notable sidemen, and even cuts with Duke Ellington, and drummer Max Roach.
4AD Records
HNIA attracts with its music: short, simple melodies that weave siren-like vocals around minimal drums and dozens of guitar samples - a refreshing jangle of pop noise and folk, with an Alex Chilton cover a la Vaughan Oliver graphics. Once inside, however, lyrics are either so poetically dada as to deny interpretation, or startlingly violent with hacked-off ears and washed-up corpses on beaches, that Mouth's once beckoning floral beauty mutates into a Venus flytrap, capable of devouring with the same sweet nectar that lured.
