Various Artists – Alrealon Musique Presents: New Sonic Strategies (None)

Various Artists - Alrealon Musique Presents: New Sonic Strategies

I hope you don’t mind, I just booked our vacation. I got a great deal on this cool compilation!

Artists: Various
Title: Alrealon Musique Presents: New Sonic Strategies
Label: Alrealon Musique
Cat#: None
Keywords: Classical, Drone, Dub, Experimental, Avantgarde, Hip Hop, Instrumental, Post-Rock
Reviewer: Alex Spalding

Oh, the places we’ll go; oh, the things we will see! Oh, yes, all our wand’rings shall fill you with glee! You might have just noticed I wrote that in rhyme? This, too, you’ll realize is written in time. A bar or a metre, a measure, a song. (I only wrote that verse to use the word thong). Yes, my review is all written like this. At least, so I hope, or I’m taking the piss.

Tonight we’ll be list’ning to this compilation. The sounds on this disc will provide titillation. It’s from All-Ree-Uh-Lon Musique, you know? A fantastic label as I will soon show. Before we begin, as is customary…

… I’ll sit here a moment and say something scary. Did you ever hear of that travelers tale? The one about travelers (duh, right?) on sail? Who each disappeared without leaving a trace? Well, except for those tiny red chunks of their face? They’d each gotten lost on their travels one day. What happened to them, well… nobody can say. And the same fabled path as those long disappeared? That’s the one we are soon to be on, as I feared. So, we should try to be careful, is all. If the stories be true, we should stay on the ball.

Without further ado, let us start right away. The longer we tarry, the longer the day! The first track, by Blue Sausage Infant, is here. The name doesn’t sound very… nice… to my ear. The title’s ‘Afflicted By The Wind Disease’. Well, which one is that (does it travel by sneeze)? Listening to it, we hear a guitar. It pans, echoes like it was taped in a jar. A creeping low dirge rises up, gets infected. A discordant snap of the frets is injected. Rhythmic, repetitive, all very mental. A little bit rough, but it still sounds so gentle. The textural pads now begin to evolve. I listen intently, heart filled with resolve. Bagpipes are swelling, my brain floats away. Those synthesized bass tones and string plucks are cray.

Next is Black Saturn with ‘The Blessing Tree’! It says it’s Exclusive, and so mote it be. It blasts me with breakbeats and gritty low bass. The warpish panned synth sound gets up in my face. The feel of this track is like self-conscious rap… sparely laid vocals, like beat poet crap. No, crap’s not the word, ’cause I’m digging this track. It’s dark and it’s heavy, but really laid back. The thick sampled groove then begins to collapse…

… so… now where are we (I’ll look at the maps). Oh, yes, that’s right, we’re on ‘Commercial Space’! It’s by PAS Musique and it sells us a vase! A vase filled with lovely, bright flowers of sound. Something you’ll later be happy you found! It’s like a bird’s egg with its mottled blue shell. Beautifully patterned, and crafted so well. These intricate patterns divide and unfold. Ah, this analogy’s getting quite old. But, still I am loving the vibe of this track. And I loved it once, too, just a short while back. Reviewed it right here when it shipped to my door. So, I really don’t think I can say too much more.

Oh, have you heard of Big Brother On Acid? No, not your sibling, who’s probably flaccid. Ah, I didn’t intend to offend you that time! It’s just that some words should be kept out of rhyme. Their track, ‘Friday Night’, is a pretty cool piece. It begins with some really strange sequential grease. The oeuvre of ecstatic, acidic drones… eventually breaks into dubsteppish groans. A massive and head-crushing groove is in store. It shakes us until we are nothing but gore.

Now, moving on, we have come to track 5. It sounds really dry so I know it’s not live. It’s by The Use, features Rachel, uh, Mason. It must be Masonic, the music we’re chasin’. The title is ‘Bird Song’, it sounds very crunchy! Fried chicken, perhaps, for a flavourful lunch-y! It feels like old techno that they have chop’t up… and ground to a powder, and placed in a cup… and smelted into a reduction, like soup — I ate a bit much, and now I must poop. Anyway, soon enough, we will then hear… what sounds like acoustical energy here. Then, Rachel’s voice floats out into the track… surrounded by the scattered, reflective stack… of noises and bass and bizarre percolation. The rhythms stay cool the entire duration. B)

Did you ever receive the ‘Gramo Memo’? It didn’t sound anything like a demo. It was by Ebinger, or so it looks. Says it right here, in all of these books. Or travel brochures… that’s what I meant. Got, like, a hundred of these, all for rent. The beginning is deep, with acoustic bass. A flute, a bit raspy, soon joins the race. I hear a voice and it’s very shaky. Could be nervous, or it could be achy. I feel like I may be reading a tome… at the bottom of some great sea or at home… listening to jazz from a David Lynch movie… except that this is way more groovy. Then, an electro beat comes in… sounding like it’s made of tin. Very marvelous, this whole track… evilly shredding, not cutting no slack (yeah, that’s a twist of a lyric or line… from TNMT, so sue me, that’s fine). The shuffling patterns of rhythm are sick… the way they’re produced is so super slick. It’s almost tribal, ‘cept for those drops… the 808 bass-hit that suddenly pops.

‘Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained’: The gain for pain to which we are chained. Philippe Petit & Friends have said… that nothing can be got for nothing instead! Wondrous trumpet fills the air. The muted frets make quite a pair. But lasers and noise come in as well… so many sounds, in this track, dwell. A static charge in the airways work… to give this track a lot of quirk. It sounds as if at any time… someone will hand me a shot glass and lime… to fill with tequila and line with salt… that would seem the whole gestalt. Except that then I’d be shot down… by a group of aliens wearing a frown.

The JazzFakers enter with ‘Weise Horn’. Why the horn, you ask, forlorn? May be that it sounds so sweet. Could be that it moves your feet. The music, though, sounds rather shrill. The horn comes off a sharpened drill. Stereo bubble oscillations… like erratic palpitations. This is free jazz, I am sure… we listen to the sax’s purr. Drums come in, with incision. Wah guitar creates a fission. ‘Lectric dead frets strum and throb… might be playing with his knob? It ends darkly, very nice… yes, this track, it will suffice.

Moving on now, further still… track 9’s like a window sill. We look out, at Rasplyn’s pain. ’14 Black Clouds’ hang low and rain. Way to ruin my vacation! Gotta seek a sheltered station… from the noise, it sounds so dark… we’ll never find a place to park. Melancholic, sprightly score… and yes! — this sound, I so adore. It’s fantastic, like a page… from a musical or piece for stage. Rasplyn’s composition stuns… and my imagination runs. So far this is my favourite one… on this album, so much fun!

Next we’ll hear from Jurica Jellic. Hm, yeah, that sounds psychedelic! ‘On Rainy Sunset’, drops of rain… some glitchy clips go down the drain. The cello seems as if it’s melted. All this glitchy noise is welted… to the mix, like leather strips. Then, an ambiance just rips. Kinda creepy, kind of nice… served up cold, as if on ice. Percussive cracks begin to show, yellow veins upon the snow. Trickles pissing down our thigh… surely, now the end is nigh?

KINE brings ‘Meditation 4’… another song I’ve heard before! No, not here, but elsewhere, sure… I think we’ll go nowhere we were…

Philippe Petit! Don’t smell my feet! The stench is strong… this started wrong. Gonna find my flow again… can feel it dripping off my chin. Outside ‘Baba Yaga’s yurt… on chicken legs, standing inert. This is an exclusive score… just like track 2 long before. Musically it blows right in… noises like a rowdy pen. Rumbling garbage can lid noise! A world filled up with broken toys. Steely, jarring, rusty too… then he plays guitar for you! Overdriven acid wash. It’s the opposite of posh.

‘Alter’ is exclusive, yes… Philippe Petit, you are da bess! Here he’s with ASVA. Just sit back and smoke a j. Bass and then guitar come in… feeling like I just might grin. Is this maybe called post-rock? Hope you’re creaming in a sock. Underneath, sinister strings… better gather all our things! This journey surely won’t end well… may find ourselves burning in hell. Tape or fire crackles away… now an organ starts to play! I vote that we all just flee… after all, I’m not Bruce Lee.

Next one’s called ‘God’s Holy Fire’… guess that means we’re on the pyre. Guilty by association, with the devil’s conflagration. JOHN 3:16, god’s special ops… soon, I hope this madness stops! What have we here, a low dark groove? Like a lynx that’s on the move! Feels like driving through the night… someplace dark without much light. Slamming snare drum hits so often. Then, angelic choirs soften… everything appears to swell, an overture to leaving hell. Channeling the spirits bliss… soundtrack to that final kiss.

FluiD brings us ‘Guardian’. Now we’re really partyin’! Or not, it sounds a little dreary. The guitar may even be quite teary. Though there’s an electric beat… it’s not the sort you’d like to meet… on the dance-floor, in the club… especially if you love wub. But, I say, it’s really pretty. Bit morose, but not real shitty. The strings and gloomy melodies, are like a very gentle breeze. They freshen hope in what’s to come, while sitting here sounding all glum.

Ah, and now it can be seen… we’ve come at last to track 16! It’s the final one, it’s true. Try not to cry or feel too blue. ‘Confrontations’ are in store. [ówt krì]’s opened up that door. First, you’re battered by guitar. Then, a drone, but from afar. Paints a pretty atmosphere. One that’s simple, but so dear. Feedback stings my inner ear. Who am I, why am I here? Oh, and that’s a lovely tone! Ambient and all alone. Then it ends, so suddenly… well, all I guess, we’ll see…

… that wasn’t dangerous at all! We made it through without a stall. That tale of how the lost were killed… must be something someone spilled, trying to scare the tourists off, so they could all stand ’round and scoff!

Oh no, who is that… oh, this really can’t be!? A man with a hook, and a bloody right knee!? Run for your lives, if you have one to spare! We can try to escape through the link down there…

… and all that was found of poor Alex that night… were just bloody pieces of face (what a sight!)

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