lost in a sea of sound

Listen! Can you hear the sonic fluid filling the space between us? Waves are not crashing in a deafening roar on the shallow shore, nor are they placid with annoying repetitive ripples. This sonic medium is a spring fed pool, massive volumes of water moving up through the ground, the clear blue and cold water making a run to the land beyond in timeless silence. Century Plants is a first magnitude spring and Intrinsic Geometry Vol. 1 is the refracted penetrating sunlight traveling to the farthest depths. This composition pulls loose ends together, a oneness within itself emitting pure aural sustain. An inner journey so focused and heavy, the distractions of thing around us, either too loud or softly annoying are droned out with welcome delight.  Thoughts are submerged in the endless mixture of ambient ice melt and studios strings. Century Plants pulling from ancient currents and the ever evolving life they carry. Countless generations are born as equal lives cycle in temporal impermanen

When listening to If You've Got the Hammer for the first time, one thought kept surfacing. The first time the Minutemen opened for Black Flag, the crowd spit on them and even in later shows they were booed off stage. The audience consensus was, the Minutemen were just not punk. An interesting new thought, what if Coach Campa opened up for Black Flag back then? It would be extremely difficult to deny the intensity, speed and drum patterns of Ethan Campa. They are anything less then the fastest and most annihilating sounds a Black Flag crowd would have ever heard. The fellow band members, Chris Dunaway, Jared Flores, Jacob Gonzalez, Abel Gonzalez, Stephen Flores, blur the lines with bass, guitars, ukulele, and trumpet. A sonic offering blowing apart one genre, fragments found across the the musical spectrum.   This is a quick composition in a few ways. Eight tracks in the span of fifteen minutes mostly played with a metronome working so feverishly, the vibrations causing it to fall t

C. Worth is thinking deep somewhere. From our infinitesimal presence in the cosmos to the connection this holds with everything, a vast spectrum for the conscious to continually explore. C. Worth has traveled somewhere within these loosely described bounds and brought back something precious. Emotion fueled by new perspectives, realization of presence and strong memories, all connected and woven into the tapestry we perceive. Passions glow with vibrant energy, the source of transformation into sonic articulation.    Titled "Three Sentimental Scenes", a composition of ethereal guitar pieces, curated from recordings in time gone by. Beautiful and brief, C. Worth elicits welcoming tones for listener's thoughts to expand upon. Track titles reflecting the overall sentimentality, "Still My Girl", "Hello, Baby" and "Goodbye, Friend". Each selection quickly passing like daydreams in awakened state.    Issued by Unread Records & Tapes on a single

A world of so many facets. Sounds pouring though space with infinite attributes. Cadence, chaos, harmony, purpose, sometimes these conditions stand alone and in other instances the aural field is tossed together. Indochina Soundscraps is representative of the conglomeration of the world of sound. From the rhythmic clanking of train wheels rolling on tracks, to the simple ancient flute of ancestral music, these recordings weave the sonic spectrum with concise fluidity. Abigail Smith recorded these passages about four years ago. Origins are from Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia. Just last year Justin Rhody edited and processed everything, turning Indochina Soundscraps into a beautiful sonic tapestry. Drums, strings, voice, harmony and tons of timeless grooves, with forty minutes of material, Indochina Soundscraps has room to be patient and explore it's world in depth. Beginning and ending with the nostalgia of the railroad, ceremonial drums escort the conscious through school rooms and st

Perched on a tight power line, a row of birds sit whispering in an unknown tongue. Innocence is in flight or in a pair together, this many all facing in one direction causes concern. Nearby and also under tension, is an aged rope bridge spanning the deep gorge, no the planks are not broken, only a gathering of birds on the south braided handrail. They are facing inward and whispering again. Cables pulled until dangerously taunt, a single pluck or external strike causing a wavering vibration, only diminishing after traveling unseen distances. A bird landing on the power line or bridge has a mass so small, the vibrations they create would seem negligible, but the realty is far from the truth. A micro sound wave is set forth, messages in unknown form. It could be methods for species propagation, but the tones are far more sinister. Dennis Young has tapped into something truly unique. Sounds from the wires, cryptic and disquieting, beautiful but harboring timbre that warps the consciousnes

In the dissolving darkness of the earliest part of the morning, the still quietness is effortlessly interrupted. In an almost unnoticeable amount, the aural blanket is pulled from the landscape it covers. What once was a soundscape of timeless naturalness, now becomes exponentially infiltrated by civilizations peculiarities. Natures drone fights back during the coarse of the day, at unexpected intervals of both time and place. These moments of reflection sporadically provide solace from voices and machinery. Until the sun falls, "progress" becomes tired, and the ambience of countless eons returns again.  Angel Archer bends sonic worlds. From horns of tribal ceremonies to atmospheric debris pinging across the mesosphere, melodies blend and merge together. Drone parting like swiftly moving clouds as notes flood the sky. Angel Archer is rich with texture and this is distributed with patience across four long tracks. An extremely well composed album taking sonic extremities into

The conscious is pulled past man made lines, through windows and walls. These are tethers, holding the drift to the vast depths of what still awaits discovery. Cumulus clouds sleeping in the distance, thousands of feet high and still expanding, energy is building behind the puffy veil. The suns illumination through the dry air creating white silhouettes on top of vibrant blue. Thoughts are drawn to these clouds, like mountains in the sky offering endless opportunities to explore sonic form. Aural sustenance extending through atmospheric shades, pure sublime vitality for thoughts to dilate and disappear with.  Protection is aptly named. In a world of disagreement, a time when morality is subject to being placed on hold, the ability to step away from our thoughts is precious. These sounds are a shield of vibrating energy. An unassuming force so pure, listening provides protection from chaotic outside disturbances. This is an ambient album with an exponential number hidden off to the side

A steady rhythm finds its way across temporal space. Through spiritual trance, German Army consistently channels this underlying groove. Slow and melodically mysterious, reproduction of sonic energy is a continual endeavor for German Army. The timbre swirls with aural heaviness, releasing a strong pressing necessity for these passages to be heard. German Army accurately reflecting this serious aspect. Heavy pressure, sounds resonating with Hurculean weight. A Case Study in Neglect winds it's way through fifteen tracks. In fascinating stereo, one channel pulls from the past while the other channel reaches into the future. A simultaneous barrage on the mind causing thoughts to reach back to the early eighties, then wander forward, to distant influences and their origins. From the opening selection titled Canarian, voices echo in the energy sparked mist, the rhythm begins with a trance like pulse. The following tracks continue on the prowl, burning pop sounds, feigning ambient drones

Pressure escaping from contained mediums, a pipe organ with valves sparkling in prismatic chaos. WARM ENOUGH fills the aural space with an inner sense of ecstasy. Ambient melodies hanging like glistening droplets of water after the sun returns from a brief rain. A natural rhythm begins, insects with timeless pronunciations of their locations, reptiles following suite. For SELVEDGE, a pattern of strings croaking in low groovy lilt. The drone takes hold again, humid heat interfered by slender icicles bursting in air. The foundational colors of a turning kaleidoscope disappearing for an intense moment of oneness with the viewing eye. SELVEDGE burns like a dancing sonic flame. Ten tracks oscillating with endless energy, melodies effortlessly illuminating thoughts. Each track title harkening to the grip of winter, its isolationism and monotonous nature. WARM ENOUGH has some aspects of drone rationed away, but the strong pulse of the crystalline formations steadily falls into the conscious

A half century ago, there were some strong sonic vibes unearthing the hidden location of Pleasure Center. The process was slow and time consuming. Those with high fortitude made good headway and came close, but these were individual efforts. Contributors to the research were consistently redirected by fancy fast tracked beats augmented by hypnotizing lights and dusty white speed. Eventually the push to discover pleasure center was forgotten and disbanded for the most part. The emission of a subsonic message of ageless groovy baselines continued over the next five decades bringing us to the present. There were few who could hear it or truly understood. Adrian Knight has changed this condition. With a grant for research and development from the GALTTA Records Exploratory Company, Pleasure Center has been located.  Nine tracks, all unlocking casual rhythms sparkling in the starlight. Follow the secret staircase leading down to a cave. Use your coded invitation from GALTTA when purchasing

Reaching back for a sound, influence or feeling, adding energy cultivated by passion of the present, this is Take Away From Me The Noise Of Your Songs. With a plethora of skilled and impassioned musicians in this lineup, Benjamin Schurr as Br'er composes an intense album of beautiful pieces. The heaviness of the songwriting is perfectly matched by the music, a fierce scorching of love constrained by mortality, forceful rhythms rowing across the river Styx. Comparisons are double edged, there is so much more to Benjamin Schurr's compositions, one or two "it sounds like this" might not be appropriate to include. There is one band that comes to mind matching protracted dreadfulness, and this is Scratch Acid. But unlike these powerful clashing sounds of the late 80's, Take Away From Me The Noise Of Your Songs has many more avenues to travel.  Beautiful voice reciting tenebrous passages to Dark Angels. Drums pound in some ceremonial testament, vibrating open the fabric