Wind and Wire to be resurrected?

I have no idea if anyone is reading this blog any more, but if you are, here's an important update. I am seriously contemplating re-launching Wind and Wire, in its original format, i.e. all sorts of reviews, not just ambient and electronica. Yeah, that means "new age" so if that makes you upset, well, bite me. I like reviewing new age too.

This blog would no longer serve as a "mirror" of the review site, but as a "signpost" allowing folks who want to subscribe for updates to find out when reviews upload, which I anticipate will be monthly. This blog would also feature all kinds of fun rants, op-ed pieces, and other commentary by you know who, which makes it more like a blog. Some of the entries will be about the music I review, e.g. what's with all the sucky cover art?, and other posts might be film reviews, political or social culture musings, or who knows what the hell I might be inclined to throw up on the WWW.

Why, against all sanity and logic am I doing such a foolhardy thing? Because, I need to write a lot of reviews for all the older releases I haven't gotten around to, and I think if I resurrect W and W, and tell myself, once and for all, that I have permission to write SHORTER and more concise reviews, and more importantly, CRITICAL reviews, I can handle this. I will not be leaving my review posts at either Zone Music Reporter or New Age Retailer but merely supplementing those venues with shorter, and more critically-angled reviews.

For too many years, I was afraid of pissing folks off. It's time I realized that it's just my opinion and if the artist or you fans can't handle my saying "What the fuck is up with this release?" well, tough for you. I have been at this for 13 years. If I don't have the street cred to be negative about an album by now, what does a poor Joe like me HAVE to do, fer Crissakes?

And, hell, if nothing else, just consider that I am doing it for the lulz!

Wish me luck - whenever the hell I launch the sumbitch!

REVIEW: KEVOZ - Digital

KevOz
Digital
Self-released (2007)
Rating: B+

An homage of sorts to the many faces of EM, KevOz's (Kevin R. Osborn) Digital is one flat out fun album, a recording with little if any pretension, which the opening "Whoo!" emphasizes with its chunky funky rhythm track and fake audience cheers. Unlike the artist's previous more mainstream new age music type recordings (e.g. Return to Lakefront) or the stylized SF-themed Into Orbit, this CD is pure electronica, laced throughout with nostalgic touches, a dash of whimsy, and more influential nods to music from the '70s through the '90s than can be recounted here. However, this isn't a mere throwback imitation. There are contemporary wrinkles scattered among the 15 tracks and top notch production quality flows through the entire album. The artist traverses an assortment of EM subgenre territories: laid back chill-out ("Unheard Wishes") bass-heavy funk ("Debonair," which also contains some interesting jazz riffs and a dash of spacemusic too), pulsing break-beat dance tunes ("Bliss"), moody echoed piano set against cinematic synth textures and chilled beats that ends on a Vangelis-like fanfare ("You're Not Here"), and even a track that sounds like it's from the soundtrack to the film Breakin' ("Dueling Dreams"). Another influence that I heard more than once was the film music of John Carpenter and Alan Howarth on tracks such as "Revolver" and the latter part of "Hypnosis" (echoes of Big Trouble in Little China), as well as occasional flirtations with Berlin school ("Spooky" and various other spots on the CD, basically wherever sequencers and certain synth sounds are heard). While this review may make Digital sound somewhat disjointed, it's actually anything but (no doubt because Osborn intended - and achieved - a unifying motif of sorts, one that's easily discerned despite the myriad influences). With this CD, KevOz reveals a whole other side of his musical personality, an aspect that I, for one, heartily endorse and look forward (hopefully) to hearing much more from in the future.

REVIEW: DEBORAH MARTIN AND J ARIF VERNER - Anno Domini

DEBORAH MARTIN AND J. ARIF VERNER
Anno Domini
Spotted Peccary (2007)
Rating: B+

Given Deborah Martin's past affinity (as I interpret it) for reflecting some spiritual influence in her brand of ambient music (on recordings such as Tibet, Under the Moon and Ancient Power), it might be inevitable that she would train her artistic eye on mining the ages-old traditions of Western sacred music. And that's exactly what she and fellow Peccary artist J. Arif Verner do on Anno Domini, a fascinating integration of the ultra-contemporary with the ancient, featuring state of the art synthesizers (as well as guitars, loops, percussion, and drums) sometimes serving as accompaniment to Latin vocals and other times weaving an ambient-spiritual spell all by their instrument-only selves. However, don't come to this party expecting a chill-out/club atmosphere Enigma-clone. Martin and Verner are plugged into something much deeper, more sacred and infinitely more somber than Gregorian chants blended with high-hats and beats. After just the first track, the beautiful and haunting "Kyrie," listeners will hear that this is definitively drifting ambient music, but occasionally accompanied by Martin's subdued (and heartbreakingly pretty) vocal refrains. All but one of the remaining six tracks are cast in this mold, i.e. somber yet beautiful drifting soundscapes, sometimes suffused with the musical motifs of sacred hymns (long sustained chords/notes, minor key melodies, and a palpable yet muted sensation of awe and majesty). Not all the tracks contain vocals, in case any of you are concerned about that, by the way. One instrumental selection is "Spiritus" which features layers of synths (both upper and lower register), bell trees, and crystalline shimmering tones, along with wordless chorals. "Anno Domini" is a vocal track, though, and Martin's sublime voice calls out from the dark backdrop of flowing minor-key synth washes and deep bassy drones. "Illuminata" contains a gently throbbing bass rhythm underneath celestial synth pads, eventually folding in hand drums and percussion, morphing into a piece that combines the previous musical motifs with those of entho-tribal ambient. "Dona Nobis Pacem" brings guitar into the mix along with the most pronounced drama and power present on the CD. This track borders on sounding more akin to label-mates Jon Jenkins and David Helpling's release Treasure (the track does stand out stylistically from the rest of the album for this reason, especially at its conclusion when things get uncharacteristically loud amid some thundering crescendos). "Inter Astrum" then concludes the CD in a celestial spacemusic vein.

I preferred the first five tracks more than the last two, but that's more my preference than anything else (although I wonder how the louder passages on "Dona Nobis Pacem" are received by listeners who prefer a more consistent musical message). One doesn't need to have either a predilection for or a knowledge of sacred liturgical music in order to enjoy Anno Domini, because when you get right down to it, it's more of an ambient/spacemusic recording than an outright homage to Catholic hymns (despite the all Latin language titles). However, an appreciation for hymns will likely result in a more fulfilling reaction to this recommended disc.

Status of the official Wind and Wire site

It's been brought ot my attention that the parent site for this blog, Wind and Wire, is down. I think this is because I forgot to renew my domain (happens almost every year for me). I've emailed the person who hosts the site and inquired if I can get it back online. For the time being, the music reviews will post here and no where else. I'd be interested in opinions on whether it makes sense to keep Wind and Wire active or if this blog is enough, especially since the reviews have slowed to a trickle (to say the least). Please post your opinions on this subject. And more reviews will be coming at a steady pace now, I hope.

And if you think it's time to pull the plug on all ambient reviews since I've so little time, please let me know that as well.

REVIEW: BETWEEN INTERVAL - Autumn Continent

BETWEEN INTERVAL
Autumn Continent
Spotted Peccary (2006)
Rating: B+

Stefan Jönsson (Between Interval) walks a path between two distinctly different ambient worlds on Autumn Continent: brooding dark ambient soundscapes and gently pulsing warmer rhythmic affairs. For myself, I prefer the latter, although Jönsson infuses even the more sinister and melancholic aspects of the former with human feeling so that even the drone oriented pieces here (such as the opening "Autumn Continent 2" and track 3 "Hidden Wastelands") flow with the organic fluidity of deep spacemusic (the latter of the two tracks could even be heard as a shadowy version of Telomere's work). However, it's when the artist introduces either more overt melodic components (the gentle resonant lower register bell tones on "Submerged" that percolate lightly over layers of luxurious synth washes) or when he allows rhythms to surface (the wonderful quasi-Berlin sequencing present on "The Tides of Time" imparts of sensation of movement underneath the oh-so-delicate reverberating tones, faintly melancholic whistling synth notes and echoed piano-like refrain) that this relatively new artist shines brightest. "Early Life Remainings" dials up the energy to a low boil, reminiscent of tracks such as Tangerine Dream's "Love on a Train," in blending a subtle yet throbbing beat with haunting and evocative synth pads. Make no mistake, though, that the drone pieces do dominate Autumn Continent, and while I would have preferred more of the other stuff, his skill at crafting deep spacemusic is such that even I was mesmerized most of the time, especially on the closing "Autumn Continent 2" a great track that fuses a deep sighing reflection of resignation with a gentleness and beauty that cushions the blow of the melancholy. The title Autumn Continent fits this CD like a glove since the overall morose and somber atmosphere of the music (especially the drones) paints with the appropriate colors for the season when one's thoughts turn inward and the world goes to sleep. Solidly recommended.

Reviews...WTF happened???

To paraphrase a line from one of my favorite movies....when Jimmy Chitwood decides it's time to start playing basketball in the film Hoosiers he states: "I don't know if it'll make a difference, but I figured it's time for me to start playing ball." Well, I don't know if it'll make a difference, but I figgered it's about time I started reviewing ambient and electronic music again. Look for reviews soon. I promise! I know I been gone a long time....and reasons or excuses don't count for shit. So, I decided that any content is better than no content. I can't abandon this genre jes' yet. :-)

See you soon.

REVIEW: DARSHAN AMBIENT- from pale hands to weary skies

DARSHAN AMBIENT
from pale hands to weary skies
Lotuspike (2008)
11 tracks: 56:53
Rating: A

After a three-year absence from the ambient recording scene, Michael Allison (Darshan Ambient) has resurfaced with his most ambitious and multifaceted release yet, from pale hands to weary skies. Before getting to the meat of the review, I’d like to first give thanks to all who helped him pull through his gravely serious illness back in April of 2007, most notably his wife, Nicky. More info about this is available as part of the album’s liner notes, but suffice it to say that I was relieved and thrilled when Nicky notified me that Michael had emerged from his coma, was recovering, and eventually rejoined the living, reuniting with his loved ones. The possibility of future music from him was, frankly, the furthest thing from my mind. Now, however, as this new recording sees the light of day, it’s like a bonus for the ambient music community since not only is Michael back with us, but he has apparently tapped into a wellspring of inspiration that has let loose a flood of creativity and innovation. From near tragedy springs newfound wonder and beauty.

Musically, the eleven songs on from pale hands to weary skies probably encompass more of Allison’s rhythmic side (e.g. as heard on Autumn’s Apple and re: Karma) than his more pastoral drifting soundscapes (e.g. The Zen Master’s Diary and Providence), although some tracks manage to meld elements of both, yielding an amalgam of the artist’s two disparate “personalities.” Even though I enjoy Allison’s duality, on this particular release I think I prefer his cheerful peppy percolating beat-driven pieces a bit more. The thing about Allison’s version of glitchy/rhythmic ambient music is that, unlike many contemporaries, it’s essentially “happy” music, not mired in moribund solemnity or shadowy darkness. However, it’s also not airy, puffy or insubstantial. By putting his reverbed/sustained piano against a backdrop of shimmering textures and punctuated by skittering rhythms and/or hand drum percussion, he achieves a pluralistic impact. The listener can’t help but smile with childlike delight, yet the warmth of the music permeates the soul with a calming sense of contentment.

Spotlighting tracks on the CD is difficult because describing the music itself would require a fair amount of detail, as Allison features an wide assortment of beats/rhythms and melodic structure (e.g. the hand percussion on the opening “The Furniture of Time” leads into the more glitchy rhythms of “Slowly Toward the North”). And not all songs have rhythms, as I indicated earlier. “The Look of Amber” (co-written by Jourdan Laik) layers guitar ambient textures in a lazy-hazy collage evoking summery sensations while “Suffering Softens Stones” reminds me of the minimal piano and soundscape beauty of previous releases such as Autumn Light (which I think is sadly out of print). “I Await You” is simplicity incarnate with sedate classically inflected piano set against swashes of atmospheric guitar.

But it’s the percolating pieces here that make me want to play from pale hands to weary skies over and over. The skitching rhythms of “Palace of The Windowed Rocks” skip lightly over sustained guitar, gently plaintive piano notes and occasional sighs of muted chorals. More propulsive insistent bassy beats march underneath an assortment of quirky electronics and textures on “Multiplication of the Arcs,” while “The Rapidity of Sleep” (another song co-written by Laik) features pseudo-tribal percussion mixed with more contemporary electronica beats.

Since there is no detail listed about the album’s specific instrumentation, I’m assuming what I hear that sounds like guitar is, in fact, guitar, but in today’s recording world, who really knows. What I do know is that from pale hands to weary skies is a triumphant return for one of the more under-appreciated ambient artists out there. While Michael Allison believes this is his best work to date, I can’t wholly agree but only because I’d be hard pressed to make that statement about any of his releases since, frankly, so many of them are uniformly excellent. However, this CD is, to my ears, his most complex from a musical standpoint. He’s really pushed his personal envelope. I certainly wish he and his loved ones hadn’t had to suffer what he and they went through but all of us can take some measure of comfort that Michael came through the darkness into the light and this album is a testament to him and the power of love from those who surrounded him in his time of need. Bravo, Michael, and Welcome Back!

REVIEW: JEFF PEARCE - Rainshadow Sky

JEFF PEARCE
Rainshadow Sky
Jeff Pearce Music (2008)
12 tracks: 48:34
Rating: A+

Culled from direct-to-computer recordings made at assorted “house concerts” from 2007 and 2008, Jeff Pearce’s Rainshadow Sky stands as a notable achievement for two reasons. One is, as on Lingering Light, all the music here comes from a sole instrument, the Chapman Stick. Per the liner notes, no post-production fixing was done, no after-concert enhancement is heard throughout the CD’s twelve tracks. I’ve always considered Pearce a bit of a musical genius ever since first hearing The Hidden Rift (No synths on that album? Yeah, right!), and this stellar recording may be the final piece of the puzzle which illustrates clearly the artist’s brilliance (I can almost feel him grimace as Jeff is way too modest about his talent). The other aspect of Rainshadow Sky that bears mentioning is the music itself, which is damn bloody beautiful. I didn’t think he could top the gentle subdued nuance and deep-seated emotion of Lingering Light, but he has done so and with considerable ease. Without reading any further, if you loved LL, you’ll fall for this album from the first minute of the opening title song, a slightly jaunty affair with cascading notes “raining” down over a bed of naturally sustained Chapman textures. Gorgeous!

All but two songs here are originals. The two “reworked tunes” are the achingly sad “A Secret to Hide” and the gently minimalist “Through Tears.” One of the new tunes even harkens back to Pearce’s more ambient-ish “soundscape” era, the darkly droning “Harvest Storms.” I had to specifically ask Jeff, via email, if he didn’t sneak a guitar song onto this CD, but nope, this is still just Chapman Stick. I stand corrected and flabbergasted.

While Pearce, in his well-written and revealing liner notes, states that “The music on this release covers quite a few moods and textures…” I would offer a semi-contrary opinion, only to the degree that this is still very much late night music, a lot of it colored in grey and brown tones, much like the incredible cover photo of a wheat field beneath a stormcloud-filled sky. While nothing here is cheery, per se, in deference to the artist’s view, I admit that this is not the descent into melancholy that Lingering Light was or the aching grief of Bleed (neither of which is a bad thing since I loved both those albums, too).

“Autumn Clouds” has a lazy semi-blues thing going on while “The Last Warm Day in October” bears some resemblance to the autumnal minimalism of Will Ackerman’s solo work. “And we Prayed for Rain” is a gentle meditation on variations of a musical theme while “Ashes of Grace” has a delicate sense of beauty…fragile like crystal refracting a sunbeam. “Deluge” is inarguably the most “active” track on the CD, again featuring a cascading effect of notes shimmering against what sounds like a myriad of background textures (one Chapman Stick, one man…shaking my head in disbelief).

While Pearce fans who long for his previous more pastoral efforts (The Light Beyond or To The Shores Of Heaven) or his darker more foreboding textural works (Vestiges, Daylight Slowly) may muse “When is he gonna go back to his gee-tar?” I’m too busy luxuriating in Rainshadow Sky’s evocative sensitive wonders. Jeff Pearce is surely one of the most talented yet also most humble guys walking the Earth. While he himself mentions not being prolific when it comes to releasing music, I say “Better to uncover one diamond every three years than be unimpressed by numerous cubic zirconia found laying about!”

REVIEW: MICO NONET - The Marmalade Balloon

MICO NONET
The Marmalade Balloon
Mico Nonet Records (2007)
13 tracks: 36:42
Grade: A

Mico Nonet is a self-described “ambient chamber” ensemble and their debut release is The Marmalade Balloon, a CD somewhat difficult to slot into a single genre. Essentially, it’s a classical music album featuring chamber music played on viola (Carrie Dennis), cello (Efe Baltacigil), French horn (Paul LaFollette) and oboe (Katherine Needleman). All of these four people play professionally for various orchestras from Berlin to Philadelphia to Baltimore to Richmond, by the way. However, labeling it “classical” doesn’t take into account that, layered amidst the elegant string and wind instruments, are Joshua Lee Kramer’s subtle yet evocative analogue synthesizer textures. You may not always be consciously aware of them (even with attentive headphone listening, Kramer’s washes, pads, and shadings are discrete and under the surface). Yet, however slight the electronics may be, they add a dimension to the music that would otherwise be missing. For many ambient fans, though, The Marmalade Balloon may hew too closely to “long hair” music. That’s a shame because this is a beautiful and deeply moving work, unique without being abstract, frequently suffused with tangible melancholy.

“Rüya” opens the album and here the electronic effects are more pronounced, with ponging-like noises bouncing lazily amidst the cello, French horn and viola, the latter three wending their way somewhat cheerily amidst the synthesizer effects. “Kaika” features oboe prominently at the outset, and the piece has a rural/pastoral feel, with the synth shading being textural in nature, comprised of an occasional analogue-sounding wash in the background. “Maloja Pass” morphs the recording to a more mournful or introspective mood. Cello, viola and oboe are buoyed by soft electronic effects, quiet drones and what sound like tape loops.

Most of the album’s tracks are short (between two and four minutes long, with the exception of the nearly six-minute “Darana.”); in fact, three are under two minutes, including the somber elegiac “The Woolgatherer” and the solemn “Notturno” with its deep bassy synths rumbling underneath viola. “Gloaming” opens in a dark haunting vein with subtly glistening synth tones and bass drone-like washes upon which viola and cello mournfully “sing.” “Paper Sailboat” flirts with a playful mood (but still tinted with shades of grey) as flighty oboe is juxtaposed with soft swirling synths and semi-abstract effects which jump out now and then amidst the oboe’s melody. The title track hews closely to more traditional chamber music, swaying ever so slightly and again shining with a palpable yet gentle pastoral glow, gradually increasing in volume and drama as more instruments come join in the mix.

While there are obvious similarities between Mico Nonet’s music and, for example, Tim Story’s The Perfect Flaw or perhaps Kevin Keller’s Santiago’s Dream, the prominence in both the latter cases of piano as the main instrument and the more overt use of electronics means the similarities are relatively superficial. The Marmalade Balloon is, more than anything else, rooted firmly in chamber music aesthetics yet Kramer infuses enough electronics and synthesizers to differentiate it from a straight-up classical recording (“Hammock” for a good example of this combination of the two elements). More than anything else, what wowed me about this CD from the first playing was not just the emotional power and weight of the melancholic somber music but also that it’s all exercised with such grace and subtlety. This must be credited to Joshua Lee Kramer who is the driving force of Mico Nonet and the producer of this startlingly beautiful recording, although of course the quality of the performances of the four classical musicians can’t be overstated either. The Marmalade Balloon was one of the finest albums released in 2007 and I hope that it won’t be the last we hear from these five talented people.

REVIEW: KURT MICHAELS - Outer Worlds

KURT MICHAELS
Outer Worlds
Umbrello Records (2007)
6 tracks: 75:26
Grade: B-

Culled from an assortment of live shows, Outer Worlds from guitarist Kurt Michaels (joined by two different keyboard players and an electronic wind player on one track) falls somewhat outside the normal spectrum of what I review here at Wind and Wire, but it’s certainly an interesting and well-done recording, one that I think you readers might be intrigued by and some of you even enjoy. Featuring a plethora of retro keyboards and synths on the six tracks here and with Michaels playing electric guitar throughout, the overall category of the music is probably closer to progressive fusion or even progressive rock at times (minus drums). However, Michael’s music seldom, if ever, descends into bombast or over-the-top aural assault, i.e. when Michaels solos, it’s with taste, discretion, even delicacy and grace, not blazing away with outrageous noodling and pyrotechnics. Plus, the keyboard players (Jim Gully on tracks 1-4 and John Melnick on the opus-length 44 minute closing track “One”) really know what the hell they are doing. Whether soaring through the air on smooth washes and pads, dropping in tasty moog solos, adding a dash of jazzy fusion here and there, sprinkling in classic spacemusic flourishes, percolating with quasi-Berlin textures and effects, or even adding some Asian flavors on “Jade Princess,” Gully and Melnick display both abundant talent and technical chops aplenty. Michaels is no slouch either, exhibiting self-control (as mentioned above) but also stepping out and strutting his stuff via power chords, nimble licks, soaring textural lead lines, and various permutations of musical sounds on his electric guitar.

Track length varies widely. The opening thirteen minute-plus “Senor Wences” is followed by “Lamb Chop” (5:44), “Chucky” (2:23), “Jade Princess” (6:01) and “Hitch Hiker on Venus” (3:56), then wrapping things up with the aforementioned gargantuan “One” which clocks in at 43:46! “Senor Wences” has a mysterious air to it, accented by twinkling synths and low-key but still fiery electric guitar lines and eventually evolves into flowing washes over a bed of percussive beats peppered with Frippertonic-like notes. “Lamb Chop” is kinda playful and giddy with a non-stop cavalcade of lead lines and tone-like (almost kalimba-ish) keyboards. “Jade Princess” has that subtle but unmistakable Asian influence, although the stinging guitar solos undercut the spicy flavor at times (too bad). It goes without saying that trying to accurately sum up, in words, the monstrously long “One” is pointless. Suffice it say that when Michaels describes Melnick (in the liner notes) as a “legendary Chicago session musician” it’s easy to see why he uses those words. This track should certainly hold appeal for retro-EM fans who enjoy guitar interlaced with tons of vintage synthesizers. Swinging from powerful to ethereal (the spacemusic bell tones that emerge at 8:00 are ultra-tasty) to psychedelic to somewhat semi-abstract and winding down to a hushed whisper, the track simply has to be heard to be believed.

Outer Worlds may be not my usual cup of tea, but I admit that listening to it on headphones makes it hard to resist its charms at times. As weird as it may sound, I actually enjoyed “One” the most of anything here. But the entire CD is recommendable if what I’ve described piques your interest.