Tag Archives: Electronic

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Kris Keyser

In how I’ve ended up writing this blog post, this has been a real different experience in terms of anything I write about. Probably about as vague as a sentence as I’ve ever put to document on my site, but hear me out. I mean this in two senses. The first is my working environment at the time of writing. Something that has blossomed and grown significantly mainly from the confines of my own bedroom, has been bought back to its very humble beginnings at my university’s library. Origins colliding with the future if it were. Leading to the second sense I’m talking about: culture clash. My main passions in life revolve entirely around music and video games and the fusion of the two resulted in the birth of chiptune, a genre of which I’m almost ashamed to say I’ve invested very little time in, since its inception in what seems like a lifetime ago. College honestly feels like it was that long ago to me. A lot has changed in that time. So like a proverbial mole, I’m burying deeper into the mass of soundcard-generated marvels ripped from the arcades of 1985. One of the stand out maestros on my traversal is New York’s Kris Keyser, a gentleman whom when not composing rousing 8-bit symphonies of destruction, has his digits on electronic festivals, software and unsurprisingly soundtracks. The thing that strikes me most about his music is just how endlessly energetic it is, a sugar rush of chirps and bleeps all pieced together in a revolving corridor of vibrant tints and hues. The best example of this that lurches forth from Keyser’s 2013 self-titled EP, his most recent output committed to digital distribution is Batsly Labs. While giving an honourable nod to Only, a soundscape invoking a giant mechanoid’s final stand against the oncoming onslaught of missiles aimed at the Earth, it’s the happy-go-lucky retro rampage of what can be described as Godzilla taking a leisurely stroll through a densely populated city, that implants its colourful melodies most memorably. You start with low-pitched bloops and warm pitch-bends of single notes, building up the tension much like opening credits of a side-scrolling fistfight, before you drop your change into the coin-op slot and childhood innocence all comes flooding back, punctuated by a pulsing bass drum and bright computerised chirps. Quite the wall of distortion is interwoven between the lovingly recreated melody, emphasising that inner degree of fury that compliments the cheerful demeanour so well, as a result of corrupted audio or carefully engineered detail I’m not entirely sure. But the experience is paced just as well as any arcade narrative has ever been. As any enjoyable but brief romp, the journey translates through different landscapes and climates, changing tempo to match that progression to the next stage, all leading to that satisfying ending and calmly winding down to the credits. The real childlike delight of revisiting the past to bring music into the present day, especially how I resonate with video games making up a huge portion of my childhood to bring pleasure to my aural channels as I write this, is a truly underrated art form, and one that feels like I’ve really under-appreciated. Kris Keyser sits as a shining jewel amongst a treasure chest of sterling producers making a charming collection of tunes, harking back to that time of purity and artistic integrity in your craft.

Anything that Kris Keyser has ever created can be located on his Bandcamp page on a pay-whatever-you-feel basis, though I do heartily encourage a small fee for his work definitely. Otherwise, his music can be purchased from most respectable music retailers. Else wise, anything and everything you could want to know about the guy can be found on his personal website.

Go hug him on social media:

https://www.facebook.com/kriskeyser/?fref=ts

And if you really want to, you can go hug me on social media, or subscribe to this blog, entirely up to you:

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Mechanical Vampires

I’m semi-proud of this post, as I feel like I’m near the very front of the line for a group on the cusp of their emergence into the wider world of underground music. This is about as new and exciting as I have possibly ever gotten to a write-up of a group I have had next to zero interaction with previously, bar a chance encounter on Instagram. Like my namesake suggests, I do my homework and have laid in wait ever since. Seriously, the name isn’t just for show ladies and gents. It’s a lifestyle. If you interact with me over social media, even if you work on a follow-for-follow mentality, I do pay attention. Anyway, I digress. New Jersey’s Mechanical Vampires, after a promising ambient-industrial etched teaser known only as The Lynchpin and what seems like months of masterminding since early this year, finally unveiled their first full length song in Gemini and I sit here only 24 hours or so later, telling you why you should be excited by this enthralling new duo in the doorway of electro-industrial. If the minute of freezing cold keys against harsh distortion and air-tight percussion in The Lynchpin didn’t whet your appetite, then Gemini is by far the entrée you should be sinking your teeth into, literally. Obviously it fleshes out the icy atmosphere to a greater dimension, being nearly three minutes longer than The Lynchpin, but there’s a contagious pop undertone that partners so well with the thundering beats and muted abrasion from the guitar too. Sawtooth synth stabs enter like footsteps through that aforementioned doorway before bursting into life from dense percussion, echoing strong enough to hit straight through you, soft arpeggios to give some frostbite to the ambience and bass that rumbles the pit of your stomach. A male voice of reassurance cuts through the soundscape, but suits this colder, darker electronic manifestation perfectly, truly doing the scale of this track justice as gigantic as it becomes. There’s something about his spoken demeanour that is as soothing as it is inspiring, bringing a mesmerising human warmth to a mostly frozen atmosphere. And when it comes to that chorus, it glows brightly enough to bask in. Adding that vocal hook into the mix also, is just one more reason for Gemini to seep deep into your skin. The effect only becomes greater with each listen until it reaches maximum infatuation point. You could make a lazy comparison and claim that Mechanical Vampires are a more industrial-sounding PVRIS, but whilst PVRIS resemble an electronic-tainted Paramore, Mechanical Vampires already breach atmospheric and emotional depths far greater than they realise on the strength on a single song. Gemini is a stunning composition, a beautifully produced electronic master stroke that delicately reaches beyond the barriers of both industrial and pop music and seduces any onlookers with its alluring gaze. When is more on the way?

Despite being developed over the course of the year, Mechanical Vampires is still a project in its infancy, so they need all the support they can get. Gemini can be bought from CDBaby for a hardly change bothering sum, or they are generously giving it away for free from here at the exchange of sharing the song, which you should definitely be doing anyway.

Go send some love in their direction:

https://www.facebook.com/mechanicalvampires?fref=ts
https://twitter.com/MechVamps

And if you are feeling especially generous, why not consider sending some love in my direction too? You don’t have to, entirely optional:

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Track of The Week: Does It Offend You, Yeah? – Eyes All Over Me

Let me take you back a few years, to the turbulent time of 2009-2010. I was at sixth-form, but arguably the most critically influential time in my life for music. My listening habits in these years I can safely say have contributed enormously to not just my tastes, but my personality and identity as a twenty-something male living in the United Kingdom.  I have always been a bit of an oddball, and in time, I have come to accept my quirks, my eccentricity and flaws and have learned to love myself as the person I have become. And I am proud of that person I have become, 90% of the time at least. I can safely say that there was a lot of albums, probably far too many to recall right now, that had an effect and an influence on what I grew to like musically, but without a shadow of a doubt, on what has become one of my all-time favourite albums, You Have No Idea What You’re Getting Yourself Into remains as important as it ever has to me. Sure, I was a little late to this party at first, but there’s something about their blend of electro-punk ferocity and rhythmic indie deliveries that still stays inspiring, ever since its inception in 2008. A true hybrid style if one could be deciphered into.

2011’s Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You was a mellower affair granted, a more mature evolution if you will if being mentored by The Prodigy’s Liam Howlett has anything to do with it, but still contained some thumping anthems nestled within. I cannot thank them enough for making Wrestler, one of my eternal DJ set staples and dancefloor annihilators. But, after two years or so touring the album and travelling around the world in incredibly high profile support slots, they turned the project off at the switch to focus on other endeavours. DJ sets under the band alias happened during that hiatus but fans had always hungered for a full return one day. Fast forward to 27th July 2015, and prayers to various deities were answered. Sort of. A one-off show was announced for December and excitement clamoured around all corners of the globe for a ticket release. Myself and friends of mine, along with around 1,000 other lucky recipients are fortunate enough to be able to be in attendance for their Electric Ballroom show. But while they hype their show, something of an added bonus, is that unreleased tracks are making their way to the light of day also.

Bringing us here, to All Eyes Over Me, technically the second song after I See Lights On The Horizon, informally referred to as With A Heavy Heart Part 2. The reward for whomever was able to correctly identify the exact clips and order of the montage in I See Lights Over The Horizon. Whatever you may be expecting from the band if you know of their previous material, disregard that completely. The only vague comparison point is their hip-hop short Wondering featuring their collaboration with Trip, and even so is a complete far cry from anything they’ve ever released or produced. You can tell just from the very instance of quiet hi-hat against complete silence, this will be an entirely different experience far from the bombast we’ve grown akin to. Bursts of bass lead in a very ambient, chilled and minimal pseudo-trip-hop beat, shaken percussion coolly sitting behind it as if waiting for a story to be recited. But that spoken word never really materialises. Instead we get a high-pitched refrain of ‘Eyes all over me,’ altered and manipulated through the course of the track to provide an additional melody to the bare bones exhibit. Something has to be said of the synth ambience too. The brightness and breeze that flows through it, kinda makes feel it as powerful and emotionally investing as watching ascension or a resurrection. Sonically though, the tone seems darker, far more cloaked in shadow than the fire, intensity and occasional introspective we know of their entire back catalogue before it. This doesn’t mean that it’s exempt from some of their trademark quirks and sound effect interjections, as some do squeeze their way in there. I’d be very interested to know when this track was actually written, as it would answer a lot of questions I feel the track raises. Not everything should have to have context, but certainly intriguing.

Understandably, as people are finding out about this track, a lot of fans are disappointed by it, dare I say, offended by it. But they’re disappointed by it, because it’s not another We Are Rockstars or The Monkeys Are Coming. Unfortunately for those, we’re never getting another You Have No Idea… and could never get any more material at all if they make good on their word of disbanding in December. You could tell that from buying Don’t Say We Didn’t Warn You. We never could’ve had this track whatsoever if it wasn’t for the kind gesture of the competition winner, so big props to Drew Rogers for letting this track surface in the first place. What I appreciate about this track is how understated its beauty is, it does such a stellar job of invoking a reaction with minimal elements. For me, despite being a relaxing listen, there’s a sense of melancholy or soul-searching done in this track, and one that hasn’t been anywhere near as effective in any song they’ve written previously. Honestly, if I’d have written this, I’d be proud to have written it. Art. Art is the only thing more I can say. Judge for yourselves.

Eyes All Over Me, courtesy of the generous Drew Rogers and of course Does It Offend You, Yeah? can be downloaded for free from his Soundcloud. Does It Offend You, Yeah? supported by the superb Hounds and Them & Us play their final show at the Electric Ballroom on 12th December. There are still tickets available the last time I checked, so go get because it’s going to be incredible.

Go show them some love:

https://www.facebook.com/doesitoffendyou?fref=ts

https://instagram.com/doesitoffendyouyeah/

And if you think I’ve done any justice to this band or this track, you can also show me some love too if you so wish, entirely your call:

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The .Invalid

Technology always finds a way to astound us as human beings. It seems that however our civilisation conducts ourselves, there is something beyond our imagination that we hadn’t considered or we didn’t believe was possible. That is whether a new mechanical marvel or edging nearer photo-realistic graphics in a video game, just to name two examples of possibilities, constant breakthroughs or refinements, or even building something entirely from the ground upwards keeps us on our toes, wondering what is next to come. I find my relationship with electronic music is very much a similar affair. Only you occasionally have to excavate producers or musicians who dare to innovate or engineer like no one before them. That certainly seemed the case with the one man electro-industrial project The .Invalid, a true beacon of hope in the bland landfill of harsh distorted vocals and overly intense synthesisers. The vision of Edinburgh resident Seamus Bradd, The .Invalid ties together dual vocals leaning on a metal sensibility of clean and screamed, but atop a mountain of utterly breathtaking ambience and jaw-dropping production values, especially for a debut LP. For something titled The Aesthetics Of Failure however, unless in reference to the vast soundscape of emotions and moods linked to such that is explored on the album, the end result is nothing short of triumphant. Ranging from four to the floor soul-charged EBM stompers to atmospheric marvels to downtempo tugs of the heart, even more synth-pop orientated numbers, there seems to be very little the undeniably talented producer can’t do. In an album full of stellar, stand-out tracks, wittling down to a personal favourite seems incredibly unfair for undoubtedly one of the best albums I’ve heard last year. The honour does go to, as also indicated by my favourite songs of last year, Blind Myself for balancing everything that this album accomplishes so well into just over four minutes of EBM magnificence. From the introduction of rhythmic static, it leads in a beat engineered to thump you hard right in the chest, while warm arpeggios bubble beneath it, but never overpoweringly so. If anything is overpowering, it’s the euphoria from the emotional intensity from both sets of vocals, especially against the melody of the bright, airier synth in the chorus, which in its own right, hands down one of the most beautiful moments on the entire album. While lyrics are hard set on settling the score on a heartbreak, they really strengthen the impact of every intricacy and nuance in the sound design, no matter which tone is in use. The entire track is just the total package of what an unforgettable floorfiller should be: a memorable hook, a beat that shakes you to the core, perfectly complimenting layers of instrumentation, an atmosphere that expands any venue tenfold and the added emotional depth of a familiar life situation. Make no bones about it, the talent that this man has is unreal, and for a first LP, the energy and due care shown in his production defies vocabulary. This album is by far the most exciting injection of lifeblood into electro-industrial, in a very, very long time and broadcasts the emergence of an extremely capable producer, destined for greatness down to his extraordinary ability.

Traces of The .Invalid and Seamus Bradd appear to have disappeared from social media (apart from his personal Twitter account which I’m not gonna link to for privacy’s sake), he currently is now providing sound design for a new Halo mod, but please please please go listen to and buy The Aesthetics Of Failure from Bandcamp, it is an investment you will not regret. Also available at most respectable music retailers too, but just go give the man money.

And if you think I’ve done this gentleman justice, maybe you’d like to show me some support too by giving me a digital thumbs up, like, follow or subscription to the blog, all entirely optional of course:

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Ambra Red

To follow on from a point made in a previous post on this blog, although there are parts of the industry that are highly successful for women, there are some still in which women still struggle in, or there is a real lack of a presence in. Formerly I talked about rock and metal, now I’m talking about electronic music producers. There are some that have made substantial contributions to electronic music a la Ladytron’s Helen Marnie and Mira Aroyo or Freezpop’s Liz Enthusiasm and Marie ‘Christmas DIsco’ Sagan, that’s an indisputable fact. But I’m more referring to solo ventures, fearless females that near single-handedly produce all the content they make. Bjork is a famous example, as is Sister Bliss of Faithless fame, but they seem very far few and between prominence. I already have given notice to organic ambient maestro Hannah Davidson a.k.a. Mrs Jynx from Manchester previously on this blog, but it’s high time I gave plaudits to another. Enter Ambra Red from Sweden. It’s no secret that the European synth-pop scene is one of the strongest in the world, and despite disappearing off of the face of the earth, her collection of singles she produced in the period of time she was active is near an immaculate quality. Purposing producing lavish melodies like an arrow to the heart of popular music, while one foot strays into dancefloor territory and her tongue a sharp enough implement to slash at contemporary culture. Her career lasted an undisclosed amount of time, according to the shreds of evidence surrounding her on the internet, but long enough a timespan to produce 20 songs to be compiled onto what seems to be her only studio album, Electronic Creations For Special People. Many of her songs are impeccably written in the manner of synth-pop’s greatest, and Beauty 606 is personally one of the best the album has to offer. The twist of a radio dial into a punchy disco beat with a low-riding bass line starts the show, with Ambra’s hushed but sensual tones digging at perceived model beauty standards. Her calm, near reaching siren-esque demeanour makes her criticisms even more effective against the vibrant, cheery synths and layers upon layers of intricate percussion driving the track along. Special attention has to be given to the chorus’ inescapable hook line, as it’s one that burrows hard into your brain. Once its there. you’ll have a difficult time being rid of it as you’ll be whistling the melody for a good few days. As I said, an unsung hero of the modern synth-pop scene, with such carefully constructed, clean-sounding production and a midas touch for writing excellent pop songs that not only could seduce the dancefloor republic, but could nestle into any of the playbooks of the best to grace the mainstream with fingers on keyboards.

Having disappeared into the nether for around five years now, social media for her are hard to trace, but she still has a website up with links to where you can listen to and buy her works. So I’d highly recommend using that as your port of call, only because Amazon sold physical copies of her album beyond ridiculously prices.

And if you enjoyed this little piece, perhaps maybe show me a little love too, like, follow, subscribe to the blog with the button at the bottom, it’s all good but entirely optional:

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Eyes Of The Nightmare Jungle

There’s a stage in life, where I wish I were able to understand or sympathise with, where decades after establishing a band, making music, recording albums and seeing a little of the world before posthumously calling it quits, you can look back with a fondness on what you once did. General sensations such as hindsight and nostalgia are a similar thing, but I’m not a musician, so I can’t experience the same feelings associated with once having a short-lived band that had a mild success story. If your name is Russell Webster however, and you were the mastermind behind once one of the most influential independent recording studios in the country, and a cult status electro-goth rock band with notable club hits in central Europe, it’d be an achievement to be proud of. What Russell is now known for however is his work as a voiceover artist, having lent his voice to audio book and self-guides, on a one man crusade to make the world a better place. But what I admire from the small amount of research I’ve done, is that he is refreshingly honest about the success of his band Eyes Of The Nightmare Jungle. He claims that they bombed after their second album because they decided to be too clever, but in my opinion, they may have been a bit ahead of their time. Eyes Of The Nightmare Jungle are for the best part, your archetypical goth rock band taken very much from the 80’s, drum machine, heavily distorted guitars, grinding basslines to make the earth tremble, booming spoken word that later expands into gang chants, keyboard hooks that sit on top of the brain. But despite a sound getting on for thirty years old, it sounds like it hasn’t aged a day. In select circles, their calling card Shadow Dance is a club staple and it’s easy to understand why. From the effects-soaked chords of the beginning, leading in the endearing programmed beats and the haunted wail of the keyboard, there’s an overflow of deliciously dark melodies and smoke-filled atmosphere across the five minutes, that wrap you head-first into the spider’s lair and injects you with a euphoria, designed for the dancefloor. That keyboard, or guitar line, I’m not entirely sure which, is also worth its own mention, for in each appearance is a shimmering. delightful breeze that despite its twanginess, adds a real extra dimension to the track and the sheer infectiousness of it, elevates it beyond just being another streamlined goth floorfiller. Eyes Of The Nightmare Jungle were class songwriters, and with a producer at the top of his game at the helm of the project, it’s incredible to hear that it hasn’t aged a day since 1988. What’s more outstanding, is the appeal and allure that their excellent back catalogue awakens from not just the most hardy of all gothic fans, but from a much wider musical audience too.

Because we’re talking a band from over three decades ago that never had real mainstream recognition, you’d expect them not to have the latest and greatest in music dispensing tools. But digital and occasional physical copies of their work can be obtained at most respectable music retailers still, if this intrigues you as such.

Go give them a like on social media:

https://www.facebook.com/Eyes-Of-The-Nightmare-Jungle-150814181624559/timeline/

And if you liked this retrospective piece, why not sling some love in my direction, like follow, subscribe, however you want to, if you even want to at all:

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Formalin

I don’t know if those who are reading this right now are into science much, but if you ever need a go-to name for a band or musical project, chemistry more often than not, will not fail you. Alkaline Trio kinda leaps out at me straight away as the most well-known example of a chemical reference in mainstream music, as well as my personal favourite Bullets And Octane, but lurking deep within the realms of the musical underground, there are many names derived from the periodic table of elements, chemical reactions, biological chemistry and so on and so forth. Sometimes that name can stand out so much, it starts to become educational. In the origin of Formalin’s name however, it’s not only scientifically educational but culturally educational, if you are familiar with the works of a certain Damien Hurst. Formalin, is also known as formaldehyde solution, of which formaldehyde is responsible for Hirst’s notorious shark exhibit being preserved for as long as it has been. Sorry, you came here for music, not A Level Science. But the synthesis of formaldehyde into formalin, shares a common property with the band itself, in their music is obtained through the synthesis of wavelengths and frequencies to create a aesthetically darker electronic pop hybrid. The production duo from Berlin are a growing name on the European electro-industrial scene for their fusion of clean, air-tight percussion and gritty but entrancing synth lines, all drizzled with a little sleaze for dancefloor seduction. There are some nuances from EDM and commercialised dubstep in there too, just to give a little harder edge and sharpness to the electronics, but there’s a whole realm of lavish future-pop melodies to take command of the exquisite rhythms and atmosphere. This year’s Supercluster is a testament to how crisp every note, beat and vocal comes across from these gentlemen, and by far one of this year’s most enchanting synth-driven albums. The empowering Above The Sun is perhaps the strongest case for this argument, its deep, penetrating drum pulse powering the architecture and precision of each synth layer for maximum effect. Some sparkle, some twitch, some scream and shout, and some throb, but all thread together to move your body in ways you had no idea it could. Of course this all plays into the hands of the vocals which speak directly to your aural channel, playing the devil’s advocate if it were, persuasive in tone but with a devious intention. There’s true substance in the Formalin recipe, a dazzling but ocean-deep formula, complete with the marvels and menaces of the marine kingdom to boot. The duo from Berlin are providing a sterling addition to the electro-industrial underground, produced with laser-precision calibre and with an addictive sensibility that deserves to breach forth into the spotlight.

Formalin’s three albums, this year’s Supercluster, 2012’s Wasteland Manifesto and 2010’s Bodyminding are all available from most respectable music retailers. A select few of their tracks are available on Soundcloud for your listening pleasure and they are due to be touring later this year too.

https://www.facebook.com/formalin.music?fref=ts

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6 Bands I’m Learning Black Magic For To Resurrect Them

Affecting free will, or even reanimating the dead is a near impossible task to accomplish, unless you have lots of money. Maybe not so much the dead part though, if the deceased can come back to life from slamming a suitcase full of money on their coffin or ashes, then Michael Jackson and Elvis would still be touring now. Then again, holograms. The point is, there are circumstances out of our control that affect what we love on a day-to-day basis and as much as it hurts, you want to do whatever you can to make it better again. In my instance, it’s bands that are inactive, deceased or simply no longer exist any more. So I’ve assembled a cast of five semi-unknown bands and one famous that I would willingly unearth from the great musical cemetary, in no particular order:

  1. Ulterior
Photo source: The Quietus/Unknown

Photo source: The Quietus/Unknown

Press who are in the know about this London synth-rock/neo-goth outfit adore them, but their current whereabouts right now are unknown. All social media traces of them have disappeared bar their website, but even that only features a full-screen YouTube video. I can only assume they’ve disbanded, which is a tragedy for fans of icy, vengeful synth-dominated rock, that poured attitude and an arousal into the heart of darker electronica. I already have written about this band on three occasions, my personal favourite here. They chose three words: icecold, staticvenom and speedhate to describe their music and it’s spot on. While politically charged and taking square aim at mass media, there’s a lingering Sisters of Mercy flavour in their palette, yet the flirting with pseudo-industrial and the unmistakeable 80’s synth sound, there’s an anger but an addictive personality to their cold-hearted yet incredible songwriting.

Five of their best:




Everything else is via Bandcamp.

      2. Schoolyard Heroes

Photo source: Pop Matters/Unknown

Photo source: Pop Matters/Unknown

My case for Schoolyard Heroes isn’t even funny as they reformed last year for a one-off show in the States, but have no intentions for continuing on their cult appeal since calling it quits in 2009. The Seattle-based fearsome foursome were one of a kind and the fever around them has grown noticeably since their split. What Schoolyard Heroes essentially did best was a punk rock horror cabaret, splicing the struggles of teenage life with B-Movies and the macabre, resulting in an all out assault that could be glamorous as it could visceral. Although with three albums to their name, all completed well within their youth, you can only feel disappointed that their infectious punk parade didn’t spread like the plague. There’s so much to enjoy from their utter delight in matters most morbid and the exact kind of fun and insanity that modern music is missing.

Five of their best:
Children Of The Night
The Plastic Surgery Hall Of Fame
They Live
Contra
Bury The Tooth Of The Hydra And A Skeleton Army Will Arise

Social media is scarce bar Facebook, but their music is readily available from most respectable music retailers.

3. Working For A Nuclear Free City

Photo source: Indie On Bunnies/Unknown

Photo source: Indie For Bunnies/Unknown

Previous to Gary McClure’s new found success in lo-fi indie rock darling American Wrestlers, he was one fourth of an incredible Mancunian troupe of musicians and producers known as Working For A Nuclear Free City. What the status of the band is currently unsure as not long ago they were on the lookout for a video editor, possibly signalling new incoming material that never arrived. Those on the insider’s circle and were aware of Working For A Nuclear Free City’s existence knew of the vast creative capacity that they housed, but they never received the full acclaim they rightfully deserved. Mining from an inexhaustible bank of inspiration and influences, they put together three (four including the now-elusive rarities) albums of some of the most eclectic music I’ve ever encountered. An under-appreciated and true original band, hopefully to return one day.

Five of their best:
Rocket
Asleep At The Wheel
Quiet Place
Alphaville
Brown Owl

Social media works for them, even though their posts are sporadic via Facebook. I had no idea this song existed until I searched out of curiosity, but go buy this via Bandcamp and for everything else, go get their music via most respectable music retailers. Also if you’re into that sort of thing, go read this interview of theirs, it’s hilarious.

4. Pitchblend

Photo source: Altwall.net/Unknown

Photo source: Altwall.net/Unknown

This is one of the saddest stories on this list for me. As a band from Reading in the UK, a seasoned music city from a national perspective, to perform for 10 years, and to have next to zero recognition for what is a seminal sound and phenomenal emotional and spirtual journey, should be punishable under the country’s justice system. This is by no means their fault however, whether victims of circumstance or the cruel realities of life, people just weren’t in tune with their explosive wave of stunning post-rock exhibitionism. How beats me. Rarely can you hear so much passion and belief agonisingly pour out of every single note and word without fail. There is never a wasted moment on the entire Lines Of Unreason album and the fact this has stayed buried in the musical graveyard is a travesty. Words do so little to give merit to how excellent this album truly is.

Five of their best:
Sirens
Celsius
Revelation
Searching For Satellites
Somewhere I Could Never Find

There is a Facebook page for the band, though it is very much inactive. Their music is however available via most respectable music retailers.

5. Pure Reason Revolution

Photo source: NME/Press

Photo source: NME/Press

Boy, where do I even begin with these guys… There’s been very quiet rumblings yet incredible demand for a possible reunion for years, but no actual drive to capitalise on it since their demise in 2011. Whatever their reasons, Pure Reason Revolution were a breed unlike any others in their class. Marrying intelligent progressive rock with luscious pop harmonies that later stretched into deep electronica territory that still maintained their killer songwriting principles, the London musicians behind this monumental project rightfully gained a rabid cult following. But press tried in all their might to elevate the band to the height they deserved and shockingly, it was never reached. One day, one day, there’s a hope that they will return and their astonishing progressive masterpieces will conquer a new generation of fans.

Five of their best:
Bullitts Dominae
The Twyncyn/Trembling Willows
Deus Ex Machina
Black Mourning
Over The Top

Oddly, their Facebook updates occasionally, but not with Pure Reason Revolution news. Go show support if you enjoy them anyway. Their music is available at most respectable music retailers, buy all the copies.

and last but no means least…

    6. Type O Negative

Photo source: NY Rock/Unknown

Photo source: NY Rock/Unknown

While there is a remote hope for every band on this list to reform, chances here are far beyond impossible. Why? If you’re not familiar with the name Type O Negative, then you won’t be aware that vocalist, bassist and literal giant personality Peter Steele has been dead for five years, tragically passing away from the effects of an aortic aneurysm aged just 48. The music of Type O Negative has always had an air of severe gloom attached to it, oft with self-depreciating humour and self-loathing running through every fibre of their being, becoming synonymous with the band (they were nicknamed the ‘Drab Four,’ playing on the Beatles moniker). There’s an entire conversation for another time here which may arrive at a later date, but the long story short is, the irreplaceable black but beautiful expanding harmonies and inexplicable doom of one of goth rock’s best and beloved bands will seldom be replicated.

Five of their best:
Wolf Moon
Love You To Death
We Hate Everyone
I Don’t Wanna Be Me
Dead Again

Their Facebook updates are rare but relevant should you wish to get them, but worth showing support too. Their music as expected is also available via all respectable music retailers and the vast majority of merchandise can be obtained through their website.

Until I figure out a way to raise the dead, may all these bands rest in peace…

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Dirty Scarab

Sometimes, some musicians are enigmatic, not because they don’t want to be found, but building a mystery behind the incredible skill and production that goes into making memorable music compositions, creates an allure that music fans flock to. One of the most high profile cases of this was the mystery surrounding electronic producer Burial, who for years was a myth, aside from his untouchable production abilities and stunning musical invocations because he kept himself hidden from the public. But the second he pulled back the curtain, the hype began to fade. Talents never die, but enigmas certainly can. Dirty Scarab is no exception. Prior to writing this piece, there is next to no social media presence nor a website for this under-the-radar producer, but details did eventually emerge with a little further digging. Dirty Scarab is the brainchild of Ben Youngs, a Leicester man who currently resides stateside, that specialises in remixes and soundtracks, accumulating a wealth of independent movie credits and more impressively, Trent Reznor-endorsed Nine Inch Nail remixes. Such as his talent for excelling in sheer breadth of production, his only album, 2009’s First Stint, contains a playroom of eclectronic sights, sounds and sensations, to sate whatever aural desires your state of mind decides. Naturally, a single song doesn’t speak for this brilliant artist’s entire creative repertoire, but it can showcase an aspect that they are capable of and nothing else says blackened mechanical wasteland like The Brooding. Setting forth on a high-impact hip-hop pace, booms of bass nestle under the encroaching menace and what sounds like robotic gurgling. The danger then engulfs you and a blasting of pained sirens and rusted robotic limbs edging closer, with the padding of a deep rumbling bass wall is incredibly unsettling. Everything screams foreboding, but there’s a delicate light of hope in a small riff of bright, graceful synth that in its two appearances, banishes that intense darkness and more than completes this track. No wonder Ben Youngs is proficient in soundtrack work, such well-realised and crafted atmosphere could cradle a compelling visual scenario with absolute ease. Though I have taken aback the cover over Dirty Scarab’s persona, ending an albeit brief puzzle, his versatility and adeptness behind the production desk heighten his credentials as a sterling young electronic producer, as much as a social media face figure equivalent.

Dirty Scarab’s work can’t be traced on the usual modes of music discovery such as Bandcamp, but First Stint is available completely for free, with the option to donate for his work on Jamendo or you can find him on CDBaby and support him that way. Of course, his music can be found be on most respectable music retailers too.

http://www.last.fm/music/Dirty+Scarab

P.S. Eclectronic is a term I’ve decided to use, to give to artists that can make or excel in producing more than one kind of electronic music.

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Ice Cream Cathedral

It’s very rare that band names completely nail the sound of the music they make. After all, one of the best practices is to make a band name that entices a potential audience in, but still reflect in some respect the vision of the sounds they make, that will last their lifespan. Some bands do it spectacularly, some bands do it to create a sense of mystery around them, some bands do it mostly to catch your attention, while others… simply don’t try. I’m not going to go into semantics here, as there are plenty of cases for all of these camps, some which may form the basis of an article for the future even, but for now we turn our attention to the antics of Danish synthpop outfit Ice Cream Cathedral and what lurks beneath their exciting moniker. You can picture it. A pristine monument of textures and swirls, chilled and tranquil yet with a grandiose presence that takes your breath away. While this is merely a fantasy, the reality is none too different. Formed in Copenhagen in 2011, the dream state of luscious, sweet but not saccharine pop movements has taken hold of those willing to succumb to the sheer beauty of this music created.  Part of the charm lies in the timelessness of the instrumentation, the satisfying plonks, clicks, warm throbs and bass from analogue synthesisers, married with a simple but quietened drums and a soulful 60’s vocal delivery, all unite to form an abstract, space-travelling gem from yesteryear, yet taken from five minutes in the past. Amber Sail, taken from 2013’s The Drowsy Kingdom, taps into this golden formula, a sunshine glazed stroll of jaunty but bright keyboards and smoky ambience, with the echoes of female dulcet tones front and center, guiding a settling path through the near five minute journey. A moment of time is given to showcase each layer of synthesiser and programming, building up a carousel of colours, revolving before your very eyes before letting the vocals take reign once more. The marvel of the ice cream cathedral visual has taken a change recently as most recent album Sudden Anatomy from last year is a darker, icier endeavour, but The Drowsy Kingdom is undeniably the dawn to Sudden Anatomy’s dusk. The points still stands however, that this collective from Denmark are crystallising a blissful realm of pop music, and adorning it into a spectacle that remains cold to the touch, but utterly delicious to consume.

The back catalogue of Ice Cream Cathedral remains torn between their own Bandcamp page and Riot Factory Records’ Bandcamp page, all you should know is if you enjoyed this, it’s all available for a very reasonable fee.

https://www.facebook.com/icecreamcathedral?fref=ts