DNT MAILORDER IS CLOSED FOR THE SUMMER. THIS NOTE WILL BE REMOVED WHEN WE REOPEN. NOTHING ORDERED DURING THIS TIME WILL BE MAILED UNTIL AUGUST. YOU CAN PURCHASE DNT RELEASES FROM MANY FINE DISTROS
DNT056 - Sean McCann "Chances Are Staying" LP $12/$13/$18ppd US/Canada/World *international, if ordering lps from the distro too, choose the US price instead
Debut vinyl release from Californian droniac Sean McCann. Recorded in the summer of 2009, this album was meant to be a continuation of the kaleidoscopic sound of his first albums, "Phylum Sigh" (DNT051) and "Frame Of Mind" (Stunned no.34). While still beaming with beauty and grace, this record demands a bit more from the listener than his other works. The first side of Chance Are Staying explores stringed melodic minimalism ala Tony Conrad, yet with much more poignant and somber motifs. The second side displays the ambit of his sound, from rapturous (and even … grooving?!) violin and saxophone blurs to ecstatic mind-warps. This record stands as a pillar in the dawn of this young man's career. Guaranteed to make your heart shine with memories of affection and glimpses of an uncertain future. Full color matte jackets with insert - in a hand-numbered edition of 400 mastered by Pete Swanson.
*************************************************************************************** DNT060 - "Birthdaze Haze" VHS SOLD OUT. try tomentosa, eclipse, discriminate, or mimaroglu in about a week
Four more years! Four more years! Seriously, it's hard to believe DNT has been around this long. When do I get my cake?? Four year anniversary VHS with new videos by Pod Blotz, Sam Goldberg, Xiiphiidae, Sean McCann, and Nomen Dubium. Limited to 50 copies with paint-splattered covers on purple NTSC tapes.
******************************************************* DNT053 - Carl Calm/Flower Man "The Sag"/"The Breslin Wayside Rotary" split double cassette SOLD OUT. try tomentosa, eclipse, discriminate, or mimaroglu in about a week
Brand new double cassette set highlighting the solo work of Caboladies masterminds Chris Bush and Eric Lanham. "The Sag" represents a fascinating first glimpse into the pointalist minimal techno collage world of Caboladies co-conspirator Eric “Carl Calm” Lanham. With the Sag, Carl Calm lays out a crisp collection of constantly unfolding electronic nuance that strikes the balance between surgical precision and hype ambiance. Steady pulses expand on harmonic webs of complex time collapse techniques, repeat morphs, and other occult party mob tweaks. Definitely a new calculus for the minimal techno idiom.
"The Breslin Wayside Rotary", the newest addition in the ongoing bedroom synth/confusion electronics saga of Chris “Flower Man” Bush finds the operator wrangling jungle worship drums, meta-communicative bird speak, and a number of other warped synthetic imaginations. There is a certain “narrative” quality at play on the Breslin Wayside Rotary whose broad trajectory begins with amnesia and ends with fewer answers than it started with. Safe to say, delirium abounds over the course of this bizarre, yet carefully considered musical tour.
Edition of 100 pro-dubbed cassettes housed in separate cases with covers designed by CC & FM. Caboladies LP to follow this summer.
******************************************************* DNT047 - Deep Magic "Soul Vibration" c60 cassette SOLD OUT. try tomentosa, eclipse, discriminate, or mimaroglu in about a week
This hour-long ambient voyage will take you through time and space, float you past the constellations, and softly place you on a far distant planet where all of your troubles & worries are easily forgotten and every muscle in your body begins to slowly relax. Your only concern is for the moment the music stops, as you know it will catapult you back into reality. Edition of 100 pro-dubbed blue-shelled cassettes with cardstock covers designed by Mr. Gray.
******************************************************* DNT059 - Ättestupa "1867" 12" $10ppd/$12ppd US/Canada *international please order from Release the Bats (Sweden) or order records from the distro and add this one*
Northern Europe 1867: A winter so harsh, a spring so cold and a summer so late. A dead harvest. The failure of the crop meant starvation and thousands and thousands of people died. Bark bread, lichen gruel and families slowly fading away. This bleak period, ended in 1869, resulted in that more Swedes than ever emigrated to Northern America and other places for a better life. Based around those years, Gothenburg's Ättestupa here creates an absolutely terrific soundtrack to this misery with their new 3-song EP. Exploring the dark past of their native country Sweden, this is a well-executed journey into the neverending well of hopelessness. Into the struggle of nature and mankind. You'll recognize the sound from the RTB LP from last year and the Abisko tape, but here they are taking everything up a notch. The unique production is getting close to perfection, a raw and disgusting thick sonic bliss with a continuous crunch. A sharpened blend of noise, kraut and black metal with a crude melancholic atmosphere. Vocals buried deep under the soil and guitars being more prominent. Organs, screeching metal junk, tape loops. Pounding drums. The recording reeks of bad times and tremendous coldness and it's hard to grasp for air. No hope and definitely no joy. Recorded during the first three months of 2009. Limited to 330 copies on black vinyl.
"The last great famine of pre-industrial Europe, localized in Finland and Northern Sweden and peaking in 1867, led to the deaths of between one and two hundred thousand people. Interpreting this moment, Swedes Ättestupa present a bleak yet empathic trilogy of methodical scum rock. Divulged in layers, the music becomes slowly evident in delicate strands from beneath a black sonic brusque like the dug grooves of the vinyl (at 45rpm, a complimentary definition to this intensely granular sound). Made of trebly percussion, feedback squalls, and full-breasted vocal harmonies, the performance is frequently subverted by looping manipulations which emulate and dissemble the song structure. Given its chronologic orientation, the musical time seems always to be marching, drawing focus to the segues in which no music seems to move but merely sounds that stall. After the robust struggle of “Missväxt”, the organ fugue (I wouldn’t assume an actual organ at play) of “Halshuggarnatten” is a cultured goodbye and an end-coming-near. On the reverse, “Storsvagåret” eeks vacant oscillations as though the rhythm of this desolate sphere is all that remains. And from this statement, a coda of sorts: a spectral march of heavy brood footfalls pound relentlessly, forever, with blearing colors of distorted guitars and the constant exhale of a mighty wind whipping through the soundscape. Blistering back to grotesque life in the final moments, a manic electronic whistling is something of an afterthought which over-plays this particular historical moment, or else emits as a byproduct of so much hazardous alchemy. Presenting the aesthetic of doom without the genre of metal, ‘1867’ attests to a cultural and historical place of creation which cannot but express what so many others apply as tropes - a startling, but not enviable position to be in. Limited to 330 copies on black vinyl with blank sleeves. Mastered by Pete Swanson. Recommended." -Animal Psi
"Coming totally out of left field, DNT brings this Swedish crew overseas to share their blackened, famine-inspired racket and I'm digging it. The full page insert is all in Swedish I presume so I'm letting the music do the talking and it's whispering unsettling things.
"Missväxt," the first of three tracks on the 45rpm LP, starts the record off in fierce, serrated fashion. There's bad vibes from across the spectrum at work here. There's a heavy dose of noise (whether it stems from harsh noise or Big Black is anyone's guess) and live percussion that plays like a meat packing plant but what really makes the jam so killer is an even heavier dose of Jesus Lizard-esque loping, dead-eyed intensity. The groaning vocalist is so deep in despair he isn't even trying to be heard above the din. The band establishes the structure of the jam right off the bat and then builds it continually into a greater and greater cacophony until it can't support itself any longer and lapses into weird gnarled loops. It's great; maximum cerebral blastitude or whatever. "Halshuggarnatten" begins with an instrumental intro with some rather nice organ juxtaposed with crunchy percussion loops. Minimal, measured drumming and lethargic vocals enter turning the song into a bizarre, queasy, slo-motion flurry. The seasick vibes continue onto "Storsvagåret" which takes up the full b-side. A whirring organ produces a series of bent-out-of-shape pitches over distorted clanks and whatnot. This section continues for a little bit until Ättestupa shift into a deliberate trash rock stomp, lead by the organ. There's a phenomenal counter-melody with a music box/toy piano timbre that really seals it for me, though it's nearly crushed by the blown out drums. It's totally unexpected and heightens the sinister mood with its duplicitous, "good-natured" melody. For some reason this piece seems even more zoned out than the other side. A continual bleary-eyed trudge through a smoldering nightmare world. That is until the track begins to smolder itself, cannibalizing itself with static-laden, manipulated loops. Excuse me while I flip the record back over.
I'm not totally sure how to classify this, they've got their fingers in a couple different cookie jars. Noise rock is the most inclusive tag you could give it, but there definitely seems to be some inspiration in noise, drone and not-shitty industrial music, particularly for atmosphere. I've never really heard such elements combined in this way, or least they haven't achieved such an effect. The effect, I would vaguely define as, inescapable dread without fear. Something is rotten in Sweden, for sure." -Auxiliary Out
"Another one from the vaults, this time hearkening from the DNT camp a ways back via Sweden. A little out of left field for the DNT label, this EP is by a mystery unit that in some way features (recently reviewed here) Sewer Election's Dan Johansson. Apparently titled after a year of brutal starvation in Sweden, this offering is a soundtrack of sorts, produced to ultra dismal effect in homage to staggering suffering and desperation.
Thing kicks off in brutal fashion on "Missväxt," whose clashing drum lines and guitar meld with deeply drowned vocals for a graveside call to arms. Total thrashing punk/goth/motorik material here that grinds on before dwindling out to wheezes and windz that blubber on long enough to drown it out. The following "Halshuggarnatten" goes heavy on the crud lurch with a nice funereal organ line mingling over top. Sounds like a morgue service next to a construction site, and the dichotomy is too good to ignore. Like kids playing hopscotch at the cemetery using headstones for humdingers while ghastly vocals dig dirges in the draperies. Real killer sound that's super dismal and down and out, the organ line just right above it all while the vocals are backstage screaming through an aquarium full of cyanide.
Flip side features the lone "Storsvagåret," which starts out nice and meddling as chairs are dragged over linoleum tiling and the hum of stench looms outward slow and steady. Really reads like a playground full of poltergeists taking over in the name of decay. Super steady slow mo degradation here. Industrial meets circuit twisting meets grind meets slime. Rusty as hell and going nowhere fast before it opens up with a hunkered down, face to the floor organ and drum line that wiggles itself free from the mulch. Sick, head banging and dilapidated stuff, ultra mechanic in its stuttered organics. Heavy ride all around, mastered by Yellow Swans own Pete Swanson and well worth the price of admission. Dig the stripped back presentation here too, with the typed up Swedish liners (I'm assuming) detailing the event in all its ugliness. Grab it before it turns to ash. " -ear conditioned nightmare
*************************************************************************************** DNT055 - Plankton Wat "Dawn of the Golden Eternity" $12ppd/$13ppd US/Canada *international please order from a distro close to you or order records from the distro and add this one*
Debut solo LP by Dewey Mahood of Portland psych-jammers Eternal Tapestry. Ten songs recorded at the Owl House basement last winter on cassette 4-track. The LP encompasses a vast array of sounds and moods, from blissed-out drone punk rippers to super chill deep space folk. Total late night stoney textures, and radiant sun anthems. Acoustic and electric guitar, drums, banjo, mbira, and some singing, all mega tripped with syrupy analogy delay. Really beautiful heavy zoners. Hand drawn covers and insert by Dewmah. Edition of 500 on marbled red vinyl.
"Debut solo LP from Dewey Mahood of psych monsters Eternal Tapestry, with a range of styles that is as beautifully fucked as The Faust Tapes. Some searing lead guitar, some reflective looped string work that has a whiff of Mark McGuire’s six-string alchemy, doomy acid folk and some cranky Kraut grooves, pretty much what you were hoping for." -volcanic tongue
"Here's a bomb. After what felt like an ample hiatus--just starting to mourn the loss in the form of frequent checks to the website--DNT has returned not with a fully loaded batch but with one ultra focused and fondly constructed LP from Dewey Mahood's Plankton Wat project. Probably better known as a member of Eternal Tapestry, Mahood's solo ventures have actually already been captured on the DNT imprint via a cassette from a ways back.
While that one was an ultra-serene pleasure cruise though, this one pushes against the shores a bit more. Opening with the flanging guitar of the "The Magic Citadel," a kind of paired down Burnt Hills psych number with real focus and drive, the piece is a call to arms for the rest of the album, which presents nine semi-miniatures in which one idea is essentially worked out and through and over. The title track, whose clattering free drums and guitar drift splay themselves out like the arched arms of illuminated cacti, segues beautifully into the Delta sproing and pan flute pitterings of "Song of Winter Death," whose Fahey allusions extend far beyond mere use of finger-picking. He somehow conjures the underlying weirdness as well, the uncertainties. "Shrouded Path of Enchantment Occult Blues" is a solo guitar venture that allows Mahood's spare caution to flower into a raga Renaissance blues style whose patient sense of time and restraint display a maturity far beyond the usual in this field, evolving incrementally as each successive leaf drifts to the floor. Closing out the side, "The Exiled Wanderer" finds parallel vocal and banjo lines sliding effortlessly into a sacred netherworld of Tibetan Appalachia, closing the side out with an emptiness immediately filled upon the flip.
"Sphere Within the Lotus," like the opener of the album, harkens in the side with gusto never again reached on the side. Splashes of guitars and frolicking drums mix with bells, vocals and Harper Mahood's flute for a brief cleansing of the palette before "While the Clouds Gather" takes delayed guitar into meditative drone worlds ripe with atmospherics and tender thematic painting via harp-like gracings over the strings. Resonating hairs strum by fingers as it meanders into warm winded vocal glides over the tundra on "Other Realms," building a humble cathedral of its resonant rainfall guitar before teetering inward for a bask in the light projected on the floor. Closing it out is "Voyage of the Night Pavilion," a drone and guitar piece firmly pointing toward the eternal beginning. A beautiful one from DNT and company, and a real accomplishment for Mahood. Killer package all around, glad to have DNT back. " -ear conditioned nightmare
"1-man gtr-psych debut, at its best approaching early-mid Six Organs instrumental styles" -blastitude
"To enter the home of avant-garde veteran Dewey Mahood is to walk into a kind of domestic bliss that is distinctly Southeast Portland: In the basement, he and his girlfriend, Loni, have two separate workstations; she for her clothing design business, he a makeshift recording studio. It was down here, in the winter months of 2008, that Mahood created Dawn of the Golden Eternity, a hazy, blissful, almost entirely improvised album set to be released under his solo moniker, Plankton Wat. While his still ongoing band projects, also mostly improvised, tend toward the loud and aggressive, this is the product of a different frame of mind, one that’s closer to his reality as a father: He would usually record after putting his 7-year-old daughter, Harper, to sleep.
“This is more of a late-night, I’m getting tired, I’m getting ready for bed, so I’ll record for a while [kind of thing],” he says, “once the energy is going down a bit.”
Indeed, Dawn of the Golden Eternity is a record that feels born after-hours. Its 10 tracks, a melding of various instruments including guitar, banjo, African thumb piano, harmonium and at least one flute solo from Harper, coalesce into a heavenly, temple-massaging drone. Sonically, it is a far cry from the sound of his other groups—the revivalist ’80s hardcore of Bloodbiker and the distorted krautrock of Eternal Tapestry—but philosophically, it keeps with what Mahood has been doing since he moved to Portland from Northern California in the early ’90s.
“I was just doing pretty much all experimental, improv-type stuff, which has a good following now, but back then it was the smallest group of people,” the 38-year-old says. “Most people just did it at their houses. No venue would really have you.”
Of course, things change. And for somebody who has been messing with sound as long as Mahood, it’s a welcome shift.
“When I first started doing this and giving people tapes, I’d always get a funny reaction from people. They’d just be like, ‘What is this?’” he says. “Now it seems people are a lot more excited about it.”" - Matthew Singer/Willamette Week
"First of all, I must note how beautiful this record looks. Dewey Mahood (Plankton Wat) contributed great artwork from the sleeve to the labels and DNT main man Tynan Krakoff put it all together beautifully with lovely ruby red marbled vinyl. Damn, I just couldn't believe my eyes when I opened it up.
Last I heard from Plankton Wat was last year's tape on DNT. It was a great psych slow burner but Mahood has tweaked his sound just a bit for this LP and topped himself in the process. The first of ten, "The Magic Citadel," caught me off guard as it's a total fist pumper. Glistening waves of guitar set in with raucous tambourine hits before Mahood just starts burning up the fretboard. It's probably only about a minute and a half but it gets your heart racing. The title track cools things down a bit with airy, looped layers of guitar and free drumming. The drums really control the dynamics of the track cause when they're mellow cymbal rolls it's a pretty piece but when they get hectic so does the whole track. "Song of Winter Death" features more great, and completely different, drumming. Hollow, thudding toms make a semi-hypnotic base for acoustic slide guitar and flute to do their thing. "Shrouded Path of Enchantment" reminds me a bit of that DNT tape with stark and brooding acoustic guitar arpeggios. There's a second guitar that provides subtle plucks of the root note occasionally and it creates a strange sensation, the sonic equivalent of an undertow. A single, skeletal melody is doubled by banjo and voice on "Occult Blues." It's short but pretty profoundly eerie. "The Exiled Wanderer" is an awesome rhythmically driven track. Each instrument is used to percussive ends but Mahood deftly weaves flickers of melody from mbira and other instruments within the tangled web of rhythms.
The second side kicks off with "Sphere within the Lotus" and I'm not sure if it's possible to give a song a more "psychedelic" name. It fits cause it's a squall of a song drenched in glorious, or copious, amounts of fuzz and wah, depending on your viewpoint. Mahood is even rocking wind chimes harder than they've ever been rocked before. Sadly, the piece is pretty short. "While the Clouds Gather" is a mellow number, and there's not too much to say other than it's supremely, if unassumingly, gorgeous. It sneaks up on you. "Other Realms" is the default epic of the side, marking the return of Mahood's wordless vocals paired this time with guitar. The track drifts for a while until a slamming groove comes out of nowhere making everything get real good real quick. "Voyage of the Night Pavilion" finds acoustic and electric guitars making a great team, the former handling the melody and the latter producing a fuzzy fog and chiming in on the melody when it feels like it. Its a perfect outro cause of the gently lilting vibe, though it heats up near the end with a melting guitar lead.
Dawn of the Golden Eternity is another great installment of Mahood's 4-track psych excursions. I like that he kept most tracks pretty short so he could cover a lot of ground, but I wish he'd given the openers of both sides a bit more time to jam it out. If you dig Mahood's stuff this definitely worth the pickup and if you don't know it, this is a fine place to start." -auxiliary out blog
"i’m impressed both by the range (backwards, faust-ian chug & sandy bull-esque raga guitar ... but also 60a-lineage guitar loops & free drums & the kind(s) of muted hand-percussion boggle of the finnish scene) & the quality of playing/production herein ; something of a sampler-pack / dabbler-manifesto, sure, but all done w/ a laudable grasp of each discrete mode’s myriad inflections ..." -mimaroglu music sales
$12ppd US
$13ppd Canada
********************************************************** DNT042 - Family Underground "Helium Rug" 1-sided LP $10
10 COPIES BACK IN STOCK!!
Denmark's drone demons release another one. A helium rug would float, which is exactly what your melted mind will do while listening to this record. Whistling blown by the birds of hell. This has been in the works for quite some time. Originally intended to come out last summer on their US tour, but we didn't want to flood the market (they already had 3 LPs coming out the same time). Edition of 299 on black vinyl with bi-color stencil on b-side. The front cover is what you will look like after listening to this. Your mind will split open unleashing the helium rug from within. Screenprinted covers. Artwork by Zachary Fleming.
"Edition of 299 copies limited edition LP w/screenprinted covers from these Danish heads, driving a spike through the sound of post-Velvets fuzz-dosed oblivion and levitating a whole warehouse full of singing drone via electronics, guitar and tunnels of subterranean wow. Heavy Kosmiche-via-UK bedroom vibe to this which is extremely sticky." -volcanic tongue
"The best thing to come out of Denmark other than pastries is are droners Family Underground (Phil would argue bacon too but I don't dig on swine). So the Family have a top one sided LP on DNT. 'Helium Rug' comes in a mouth watering silk screened sleeves. One side of the record has been sprayed with spray paint and the other has some way out psychedelic shit going off. They take it way beyond the drone with swirling harmonics and super freaky furry alien sounds. Pretty damn sweet..." (norman records)
"Spindly, tense drone from the Family, rattling with a mechanical anxiety throughout one side of a 12” record. The piece takes a little while to reach its full impact, but is fairly busy and interesting once it gets there, as guitar-based tones give way to pit yowling and a semblance of rhythm beating against the walls of the silo that holds it. 299 numbered copies, silkscreened sleeve, painted B-side; ultimately one more patch for the many holes in your life." -dusted
"Denmark dronesters Family Underground are an elusive bunch, but their consistently dazed fields of industrial lurch are prominent enough. With releases all over the map (Not Not Fun, Weird Forest, all over really...) the group has a way with dense, thickly metallic drone works that manage to boil the mind right over.Helium Rug is a single-sided effort for DNT that especially hits the mark as far as these folks are concerned. This is rich and vibrant stuff that manages to both sound mechanic and utterly organic at the same time. Mixing thick, silver drones with rattling maraca, steady hand drum, and vocal moans, the side manages to pull of the same sort of time-bent delirium that some of MV/EE's stuff does, only through utterly disparate means. The percussive backbone, to which the drones and vocals seem to pay no mind, gives the track a kind of tribal vibe despite its imagery conjuring something closer to stealth jets cruising overhead. The Skaters-y vocal yalps, heavily effected, mesh beautifully as the piece slowly bends itself into less propulsive territory. The whole thing actually morphs into a pretty messy cosmic stew, burning away in total delirium. Everything is off here, the percussion playing among themselves while shelves of drone melt across each other over top and odd cat calls blend into some alternate space the likes of which few drone artists are able to carve out for themselves.Walloping organ drones start to fill the mix, initiating a new slant for the side that starts to sound a bit like James Ferraro covering the Fugs. Weird stuff, but these guys sure have a grip on what they're doing. Absolutely beautiful screened cover art too, some of DNT's best, not to mention the pink spray job on side 2. Sure to get your money's worth too, as this single side is looong so's you can get lost in it right proper. Well worth finding." -ear conditioned nightmare
"I hadn’t heard anything for a little while from Copenhagen’s Family Underground, certainly one my favorite drone acts ever, so it was good to see what these three have been up to. The first sound that jumps out of Helium Rug is a very metallic flickering of frequencies. I don’t know it for a fact but this sounds like live-style Family Underground—heavy vibrations and a non-drum but percussive presence (usually a guitar). I really like the percussive element here, there’s a looped pattern of hollow-sounding noises as well as a slashing metallic clanging which sounds to me like what a home-made hi-hat would sound like. After a minute or two the layers and layers of drones lock in with the groove and further, vocal-sounding layers are added. At some point the record hits a locked groove in middle, though I’m not sure if that’s intentional or not.
I’ve always liked that the Family use varying sound sources—guitars, pedals, vocals, other—and pull out very analogous, complementing sounds that all combine in a sweltering feast of noise. Most of their recent stuff I’m recalling had a pretty dense, round low-end tunneling quality but this piece has a bright tonal quality with a lot of rough edges. It’s like a garage drone band or something. Towards the end a pulsing bit of electronics pushes things along nicely and the piece has a rather modest but significant conclusion. This record is worth checking out if only for the documentation of this phase of their sound. They still sound undoubtedly “Family Underground” but this represents a contrast to the vibe of a lot of their other works in my opinion.
Helium Rug came out in an edition 299 and is sold out at source but I’m sure you could still scrounge up a copy somewhere with a little bit of effort. The art is great, and fitting for Family Underground, the cover is a screen printed clusterfuck of lines and the back has minimal info stamped in smeared metallic gold ink. Also the non-playable side of the LP is spray painted with neon crop circles or something." -auxillary out
************************************************************************************** DNT046 - Steve Gunn/Shawn Mcmillon "End of the City" split LP $10 10 COPIES BACK IN STOCK!!
This record showcases two very talented musicians in their prime. Steve's side clearly displays his guitar wizardry, while remaining honest and heartfelt. After several years with GHQ, Steve has sharpened his skills and it really shows. If you've had the pleasure of seeing him perform live, you know exactly what I mean. Shawn's recent collaborations with Warmer Milks seep through on his side of the album. Bleaker and darker than Steve's side, Shawn tells his tale through guitar, piano, synth and tape manipulation. It's completely engrossing. With it's many crooked bends and turns, it will lead you to a sort of discomforting fulfillment that gets more intense with each listen. Edition of 500 on black vinyl in a pro-printed jacket with full color artwork by Mary Kidd. Co-released with Abandon Ship & Abaddon.
"Excellent split LP featuring GHQ's Steve Gunn on one side with an acoustic guitar figure, heavy on repetition and with a gorgeous warm sound. The sound around the guitar builds up with bowed strings and electric guitar into a lovely piece of hypnotic American blues / folk. Shawn David McMillen is a member / ex-member of Ash Castles on the Ghost, Friday Group and Iron Kite. His side explores ethnic and primitive folk in a more experimental way with barbiturate spiked accumulations of strings and metal." -boa melody bar
"The first side belongs to Gunn, whose done some great solo work as well as stuff with GHQ and Zac Davis along the way. This is easily the best and most complete example of his vision yet though, subtly mixing folk guitar ramblings with drone, percussion, and an almost jammy bluegrass vibe that isn't so much about drifting through space and reaching towards the cosmos as it is about slowing the pace and reaching for the cosmos (the beverage that is...). Actually naw, that's not true, this is way more lie back in the field with scotch in hand material. The whole work takes its time too, building toward a gentle intersection of lines looped over and through one another with ad eft compositional touch. Almost a Moby Grape vibe here with the guitar angles, but far less song-based and more patient. A relaxing and rambling summer hummer that'll have you reaching for the wheat grass and the weed grass all at once. Gunn definitely has a knack for sounding like no one else, and he never subscribes to standard modes of "experimental" guitar, instead appearing for more focused on perfecting his distinct sound, and it's refreshing to here an artist with such a voice further pursuing his vision.
If Gunn's side was a slow-mo stomper for the coming months, McMillen's is the incoming Winter air which, when meshed with the warmth, is sure to cause some odd weather patterns. Not strictly using guitar, McMillen (who's played with Warmer Milks) also pulls from piano, tapes, synth, and from the sounds of it some small percussion tactics to create a weird and disparate little composition that goes through a ton of zones. One moment there's a strange synth garble below some almost Chopin-style piano flourishes (though far more aimless of course...) before getting increasingly distorted with an incoming choir of both people and bird chirps. A lot of weird spaces here, none of it is too claustrophobic which keeps it eerie without slipping into cliched modes. Some of this stuff even gets a bit dream-like, as shimmering sounds and voices meld together in building toward some distant and odd realm. Really effective stuff, and a great opposition to the single-minded side of Gunn. Despite its differences though, it feels just as carefully constructed and cared for, ultimately displaying just as effective and complete a voice as the counterpart on side one." -ear conditioned nightmare
GHQ’s Steve Gunn sidles up to Shawn McMillen for the split release ‘End of the City’ (split not only by artist but by label as well, the product of three aspiring houses Abaddon, Abandon Ship, and DNT). Like one of Jackie-O Motherfucker’s live U-Sound captures, Gunn’s side is a finger-picked master's piece of acoustic guitar set aloft a warm Om ring-spun from near eastern cousins that arc effortlessly between the polarities of Fahey and Shankar (or whichever name you prefer to drop in their stead). From my perspective a brilliantly sound construction of the leanest material, rhythmic notes are plucked like from a golden mean to reinforce the rambling though rounded melody. Delving into regular refrain, the piece continually renews its warmth in the ascension, and reifies Gunn as a rising pastoral guitarist. Conversely, McMillen’s side is total collage of four or five dominant patches of electronic malaise and captured sounds cohered (though regularly transcended into the realm of the “musical”) by piano miniatures understating more than a little talent. Strings wail and motors oscillate, guitar wheezes and harmonica breathes, voices blather self-important, and all the while a thread persists. Like the frustrated musings of a prodigy, these nineteen minutes remove the flattering shell from virtuosity to reveal an elegant though often terrifying design beneath. Harkening to one of my favorite split formulas, specifically the Growing/Mark Evan Burden (and the sonic similarity to McMillen’s side), and generally the dynamic of steady façade to a flipside of algorithmic - for sake of ignorance - abstraction, the pairing serves not only to telegraph the disparate approaches in between these oppositions but to compliment smooth physiognomy with messy genome in this weird modernity of ‘music’. Thematically, I can’t detect which city we may be bordering within/out, or what “city” really has to do with any of this (other than a glib deconstruction), but it’s good enough to say this point may be ignored to no ill effect. On black vinyl, and so very professional in every way. Edition of 500 copies." -Animal Psi
*************************************************************************************** DNT024 - Gay Beast "Disrobics" LP $10 10 COPIES BACK IN STOCK!!
Somebody give me some dope. (Just kidding mom) DNT has finally entered the LP realm--and all this time you thought we were only going to release cdrs and cassettes. "Disrobics" was originally self-released on CD by the band, but I felt it needed to be heard on vinyl. Gay Beast are a skronky neo-wave group of kiddos from Minneapolis, Minnesota. Silk screened covers and black vinyl. Hand numbered pressing of 500.
"Gay Beast are from Minneapolis and claim a “neo-wave” which is about a decade and a few hundred miles removed from Chicago’s now wave “explosion”, and they use that time and distance to their advantage. While I can quibble with some of the prog moments here (which come dangerously close to math rock), as a whole, Disrobics is an exciting record. At times I am reminded of Karate Party, Devo, Brianiac, Lovely Little Girls, and Lake of Dracula, but that recall comes in tiny pieces, small chunks in a bigger platter. And all that is good, and better that Gay Beast studiously avoids aural polish. There is a nice film of filth on this recording. If this is how they sound live: Wow!" -SS (Z-Gun http://z-gun.org)
"Like their first foray into vinyl for the Shearing Pinx 7” of DNT no. 3, the label saves their most definitive statements for wax debut, the latest from Gay Beast truly a statement of what may very well become the “DNT sound”. At the moment, they have left to conquer Lovepump United for this particular genre tract, an electro-heavy, integrated nor wave of the sort French Kiss would have liked to emit had they less promo bills to pay and proto-yuppies to feed. Sympathetic to labelmates HEALTH with a healthier attention-span, within the lineage ‘Disrobics’ leans decidedly toward a DNA sensibility with more macrobiotic flavor of Ex Models and Love Life (en particular their second, ‘Here is Night, Brothers’), though toward a more indulgent sing-song than the former and more reliable shine than the latter. The band denies the rigid kraftworks of electric keys with the many quivering bleats of a weak current (how much of this is due to my dying turntable motor, I cannot say), aggravating this by the all-to-human spontaneity of overanxious percussion. The sound is of regular irregularity such that, on the indiscriminate plane of the vinyl side (the gaps inter-song are no match for the intra-song), the songs flow into a homogeneous party like a house band, or better yet, a house record of skittled beats (particularly true of my second side, unfortunately warped to a thousand single grooves); the tracks only significantly differentiated when, at uneven intervals, new verses emerge to express an altered melodic pattern. In this sense, the instrumentation doesn’t always agree with the verses, and in fact more often crowds out the singer’s voice – my biggest gripe – though he manages to hold his own within the sirocco, the charming croon of damaged vocals emerging at odd signature. We meet in earnest on third track and ‘NOW That’s What I Call Music!’-worthy “Mama, Wrap My Coffin in the AIDS Quilt Cuz It’s Cold in Hell”, the devastating hook coming on like the waft of a pie on a sill following a non-committal build-up of channel surfing bleepbloop and Devo scat-lines, the chorus accompanied by interchange of rattled percussion and electrified guitar rubbings. The bratty exchange of “Good Government” recalls the Monorchid, and through the intense, full-band pummeling appears as the closest coalescence of players thusfar. “Cry” continues this evolution as the band continually tightens, brightening notes and inserting a more regular vocal presence to narrate the dance party, bleeding into the most overtly-hostile track, the title-track and closer “Disrobics”, a final call to bare arms. I know nothing of the band, but given the explicit-enough subtext of the band, I desire the lead at least to embody the gay beast – and here I picture a queer Zen Guerilla or a seven foot no wave Mukilteo Fairies. I want head-dresses and a sexually-aggressive stage presence. Make it so. Sleeve has two, three-color screen-jobs on fancy paper, with a sharp looking insert printed on gold stock. Black vinyl, limited to 500 moveable units. Get one!" (Animalpsi.com)
"There are too many bands out there futzing around with progressive rock, with “no wave”/”now wave” tropes, with neon-colored wackiness; bands that aren't putting the music out front; bands that have slid down the slope of being “off” (a slope which descends into Mike Patton's open mouth). Gay Beast, a guitar/synth/drums trio from Minneapolis, is not one of these bands, yet they play with all those parts in full swing, a real platespinning act of dynamics, abrasion, and genuine melodic innovation. All mistakes are studiously avoided and pratfalls are timed for maximum effect. All comedic qualities of the band are insular and intrinsic. Their attack is vicious and weird, processing their robotic fortunes under sheets of electronic duress, but their balance is impeccable. Bands like Gay Beast used to get me excited, but none have had such a gloriously bent and creative batch of songs to match up with the innovation. If handled correctly, Gay beast should tap into, then later usurp, the whacking off of outfits like Hella or Lightning Bolt or Deerhoof, or at least play in the same league. Very, very exciting stuff here, which hides its hand with masterful skill, and which plays down that which could easily wreck a less-capable band. Vinyl edition of 500 numbered copies in a silkscreened sleeve." (Dusted)
"Gay Beast is a trio of guitar, synthesizer, drums of Minneapolis. Music therefore gay. But to play the mad service, unsure whether the ideal soundtrack. Or very big crazy neurotic. Top meaning of abstraction. It would end 70 in New York, it is taxed no-wave. However, the wave, there a. From broken, the spray. It is hysterical, anti-melodic, it'll happen over by cutting slices is not far from having neither head nor tail. A packed for a music tapette. Each gives the impression of playing his score alone in his corner. It becomes almost trash the Flying Luttenbachers on Pairs of eye. But singing tampered not change the situation poorly, referring to a nonsense continued to Devo or Brainiac while Danimal Mal (the nickname of the singer) randomly its poor keyboard. It is vicious, strange, with a red wire not obvious to follow. Gay beast loves péter between your hands, elusive, thirty-six neon lighting in a torrid fireworks. Prepare your high heels and your postiches, it will be your birthday tonight." (translated from french..poor translation probably) (http://www.perteetfracas.org/zine/kros2007/kros_g/gaybeast.htm)
"Gay Beast hails from Minnesota and is a trio of drums, keyboard and guitar I believe. “What You Want” sets the tone for the rest of the record. Gay Beast play very angularly, almost mathy. Though the mathiness doesn’t sound “prog” at all, it’s more akin to a band like Ex Models where songs are complex rhythmically but come off as seeming tightly crafted rather than showy. “What You Want” is one of the better tracks on the album and is a great example of what I like about Gay Beast, that is they know how to hit the sweet spot. After a frenetic flailabout the guys lock in and play a really fantastically melodic chorus. One of things I like is when they hit their choruses it doesn’t feel like a different song. Instead of something like “let’s play a jerky verse and then play a pop song chorus” where the result seems awkwardly mismatched, Gay Beast’s tracks always remain consistent and authentic no matter what sorts of musical tricks they pull. Anyway, sorry for the digression. “Cock” has been in a head to head battle with “Good Government” (which I’ll get to in a minute) for favorite track on the album, and it probably has the edge. “Cock” has a stronger bass presence than the other tracks which really works, the pairing of the guitar’s and keyboard’s lead lines is perfect and there’s a rad chorus that’s catchy as hell. It’s a fantastic song, and at under two minutes it never ceases to leave me wanting more. “Mama, Wrap My Coffin in the A.I.D.S. Quilt Cuz It’s Cold in Hell” is another standout but in a much different way than “Cock”. It’s probably the weirdest track on the album to me because the arrangement and rhythms are quite off-kilter and all the directions the track goes in are hard to follow but, inexplicably, Gay Beast pulls you along making the lack of hooks totally catchy. “Good Government” closes out the A side and is, for sure, one of the best tracks on the record. It takes about 20 seconds or so to cast its spell but after that, man, am I hooked. Keyboard and guitar play unison lines to great effect before an absolutely beautiful keyboard lead jumps out and grabs you by the head. They then proceed to deconstruct their track, before giving the fan’s what they want and sneaking in a quick chorus before the groove runs its course.
“Cyclops” opens the second side and it’s a jittery affair anchored by a guitar arpeggio in the track’s second half. “3 Pairs of Eyes: Brown, Brown, Blue” would almost seem bouncy if it didn’t obliterate my brain. There’s a great guitar parts in here but none of them seem to last for more than a few seconds. “I.D. Politic” is a relatively straightforward track and Gay Beast sound awesome playing the role of the straight man (no pun intended). Regardless of all the changes the track moves through, it’s just a strong, well composed rock song at heart. The same could be said for the next song “Cry” though it barely lasts long enough to write something down about it. The title-track closes the record in frantic fashion. That reminds me, “Disrobics” is the perfect title for this record because it’s relentlessly on the move but only in a way adverbs starting with “dis…” can describe i.e. “disjointedly”, “discombobulated-ly” etc. It’s a cool record, and definitely one that sinks its claws in you a little deeper each listen. The Gay Beast record has fantastic artwork/screenprintwork (I dig the sparkling gold) and comes with an insert and LP labels, Tynan did an excellent job with his first LP." -auxillary out blog
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