Bill's Hyperbolic Music Reviews #3: Oval- "94 Diskont"

Alright, gang, for my third review I thought I'd try and write about an album that people still might not have heard of before, but might actually enjoy listening to (key word: might). Oval is basically the project of one Markus Popp, a mad techno-genius who takes CDs, mutilates them by drawing on them with marker or scratching them, processes the skips and glitches that result with editing software, and releases the tracks he makes with them on new CDs that are likely to confuse and/or piss off any impulse buyer as they still sound like they're skipping. His original sources are very difficult to identify because he uses tiny little loops and processes the hell out of them, but the first track here, the 25-minute (or side-long, if you're an asshole who buys vinyl) "Do While", was supposedly constructed from a Steve Reich piece, and as a huge Reich fan, I can tell you that this is probably true, because it has vibraphones and marimbas and shit on it. Also, there's a radio-static-y noise on the third track, "Line Extension", which sounds like the same static Tortoise uses in "Djed", but that's not really likely except that the two albums were RELEASED ON THE SAME LABEL OH MY GOD THE ILLUMINATI LIZARD PEOPLE RECORDED BOTH ALBUMS TO COMMUNICATE WITH EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEIR MOTHER TONGUE IS CRACKLY WHITE NOISE.

So, in conclusion, Markus Popp is a Jew who works for the World Bank and also founded the Freemasons.

Sorry, I let David Icke write those last few sentences. When will I ever learn? Anyway, what you really need to know is that this stuff is usually mesmerizing, sometimes beautiful, occasionally irritating electronica constructed from sources that are not Oval's own but that become totally new, fully-fledged compositions under the creative direction of a weird German guy. Also, there's a really unnecessary short reprise of "Do While" that ends the album, which one would think could be a radio edit if not for the fact that glitch music hasn't been played on the radio since never.

Bill's Hyperbolic Music Reviews #2: U Totem- "Strange Attractors"

U Totem is a collaboration between members of the two bands 5uu's and Motor Totemist Guild, both "difficult" "art" bands led by multi-instrumentalist composers. In the 5uu's case, it's Dave Kerman, and in Motor Totemist Guild's, it's James Grigsby, both of whom wrote music for U Totem, though on this disc it's solely Grigsby.

This album falls mostly under the umbrella of avant-prog, a pretentious subgenre of progressive rock that actually isn't quite pretentious enough for this record, as Strange Attractors boasts perhaps too much modern classical influence to be strictly in the "rock" canon. This ain't Stockhausen or anything, though, so don't be as frightened as you would be by, say, Klavierstucke. There's drums and guitar and shit on this, and the vocals, which, despite being mostly irritating because most of them are sung by some chick who should've been making the other band members a nice pot roast or something instead of shrieking over the top of everything, still aren't far gone into primal howling or whatever the hell it is Phil Minton does. I'm just saying that facts like the predominant use of faggy woodwinds like the flute and bassoon, the continual intervallic and metric dissonance, and the lack of any FUCKIN' KILLER RIFFS, DUDE!!!! might push this into chamber-music territory as much as anything else.

Thankfully, though, none of this is simply scattershot noodling, probably because Grigsby doesn't have a tendency towards aleatoric bullshit like some other composers I could mention. This is all tightly-composed, generally rhythm-section-led stuff, and the jump-cutting motifs always seem controlled and never just random. Some of the less experimental pieces really are your everyday Rock in Opposition-ish material that seems to give Belgian music nerds wet dreams (sorry, that was a pretty obscure quasi-joke, although actually it might be a bit frivolous to apologize for that at this point, as I've made probably a half-dozen of those already. This one was the worst, though, so I guess I'll keep this bit in.) and keeps American music nerds like me from getting laid because I enjoy it too much and so spend my Saturday nights listening to Henry Cow instead of smoking the reefer or whatever it is you damn kids do these days. In conclusion, stay the hell off my lawn!

Bill's Hyperbolic Music Reviews #1: Gregg Bendian's Interzone- "Myriad"

In my last post, I promised that I would begin posting weekly (or, whatever denomination of time. It's all an illusion anyway, man) installments of Bill's Hyperbolic Music Reviews, a.k.a. "Bill rips off renowned Internet music critic Mark Prindle, badly", in which I would rip off renowned Internet music critic Mark Prindle, badly, as I reviewed whatever the hell album/cassingle/audio-only Laser Disc I felt like, and then gave it a percent grade. I didn't promise most of this, actually, but it's what I'm delivering. Just like a politician! Hahahaha, look at me! I'm a regular satire guy!

Anyway, onto the review.

This is one of the greatest jazz albums of all time. Now, that's a bold statement, one that I'm certain the band members themselves would vehemently disagree with me on, but this just wouldn't be a Bill's Hyperbolic Music Review without at least one ill-informed assertion, now would it? Anyway, here are the two reasons that I will use to support this proclamation.

1. Gregg Bendian plays vibraphone in a style very similar to

the one I used to use after school in the band hall to try

and piss off my fellow band students with.

B. Nels Cline is on it, and, as if his mere presence wasn't

enough, he also busts out my very favorite guitar solo

ever on the last track.

Now, my .7 readers (including me) are probably going to demand a little more explanation, so, as a precaution, here we go with that.

A. I'm not going to say that Gregg Bendian sat down, wrote

a bunch of intricately-phrased, odd-metered "heads" (as

the jazzers call 'em) and then just drew penises on the

rest of the charts. But one listen to any of those

offensively dissonant tone clusters he likes to

clomp around on, and you might start to wonder.

This is high praise, by the way.

2. Nels Cline is a god among men. He's made sure that

the same Wilco responsible for the band's two shittiest

albums to date is also a live tour de force thanks to his

guitar prowess, and also, even though he's like 54

or 80 or dead or something, he still likes dicking around

with banks of effects pedals worth the GDP of

Latvia, instead of just playing boringass, tepid-beer

rock like certain Wilco bandmates of his named Jeff

Tweedy. Also, his solo on "Tactics" literally gave me

an eargasm. Yes, I actually came through my

ears, and my headphones are ruined because of it,

but it was worth it.

Bottom line: This album features Gregg Bendian, Nels Cline, Alex Cline, and some shitty bass player who sucks because he's a bass player.

Grade: 97%