R.I.P MIDNIGHT

...''in death i've found the answer
in death i live again
fear not the reaper's blade
it does not mean the end
it never really ends....''
TRANSCENDENCE

R . I . P


















Miami-based sound wizard Dino Felipe has made a lot of records-- more than 30 in the past decade, if you count his various groups and compilation appearances-- but very few of them sound alike. His primary M.O. is electronic noise, but he's also good at droning ambience, fractured punk, sample-heavy frivolity, and weirdo bedroom pop. He's made a subterranean career out of dodging definition, so it figures that his first record for No Fun, the noise label run by his friend and colleague Carlos Giffoni, would be his poppiest to date. It may not also be his best, but it's up there.
Of course, pop is a relative term when it comes to Felipe. There are melodic, structured songs here, but his approach is still hazy, off-kilter, and weird. Most of his tunes sport skewed hooks and off-key riffs which get dipped in fuzz and echo, half-hidden by distortion, pitch shifting, and ghostly distance. This puts No Fun Demo in the same ballpark as the AM-radio lo-fi of Ariel Pink, but Felipe's songs are more sturdy, and the album is more consistent than any Pink record save the underrated House Arrest. In that sense, its title is deceptive: These tracks may initially sound like four-track demos made alone in a basement, but they hold up as well-crafted songs, the kind that couldn't have been whipped up in a single lonesome evening.
Take "Found 2 Photos"-- its mid-tempo drum machine, loping bass line, and two-chord organ seem to follow one simple idea. But a closer listen reveals clever guitar flourishes, random percussion, and a vocal line that sounds like Silver Jews filled with helium. The same goes for "Working on Not", a looping electronic piece that's like a pop take on Can or Excepter, and "Rabbit Head", whose sneaky melody at first seems lethargic, but eventually becomes energetic and almost tight.
A few of Felipe's songs are just flat-out, unfiltered pop. "I Wanna Feel Better" bends and twists around a syrupy hook, while the bouncing "Chandeliers" (a Haunted House cover) features scorched chanting over a driving piano line. Felipe only falters when he gets too retro-clever-- check the blatant 80s-synth exercise "What's Wrong With Me?"-- or repeats himself (a few of the slower pieces feel identical). But at least No Fun Demo is stylistically consistent. Felipe rarely deviates from his own oddball logic, and if his worst sin is not enough variety to give his music a wider appeal, well, maybe that's just another feather in his bulging cap.
(manand)







This welcome reissue of Mount Vernon Arts Lab’s 2001 album suggests that the progressively groovy Ghost Box label is now so far advanced into the future that they’re prepared to bring the past along with them. The brainchild of composer Drew Mulholland, the project’s title alone twitches and seethes with enough occult and pop cult references to set the senses reeling. As featured in Nigel Kneale’s TV series Quatermass and the Pit, Hobs Lane was the site of numerous disturbing apparitions, where ghosts and goblins didn’t even wait for the formality of a séance to start showing up.
Mulholland’s visionary approach to London’s hidden spaces and uncanny secrets embraces skewed references to Sir Francis Dashwood and The Hellfire Club and old submarine yards on the Thames just upstream from Hammersmith Bridge. Everything is darkly alive, and with VCS3 synthesizer, theremin and guitar he conjures up sinister whirring vibrations that seem to come from deep beneath the ground. Adrian Utley’s analogue synth on "Warminster 4" recalls Glynis Jones’s work at the BBC Radiophonic Workshop in Maida Vale during the early 1970s, while the rolling reverberations of "The Mandrake Club" echo Tristram Cary’s soundtrack to the 1967 film version of Quatermass and the Pit, created at the Royal College of Music. Remixes from Coil and Barry 7 of Add N to (X) manage to suggest where the music is going as well as where it’s been.
(manand)




Eric Zann manipulates ancient oscillators, radios and found sounds in an attempt to tune in to voices beyond the veil. An electroacoustic journey through stark, echoing soundscapes that offer fleeting glimpses of the light and beauty beyond.
Eric Zann creates cavernous echoing music from vintage oscillators and scraps of found sound. Zann’s soundscapes are haunted by half heard voices and weird amorphous entities, but he sometimes affords us fleeting glimpses of the light and beauty beyond
