Holy Fuck tighten things up on their third album, bringing more focus to their psychedelic percussive workouts. Lucky is a prime example of this: a scratching riff melds with some darting electronics, combining to form a killer musical mutation: half-robot, half-Tom Morello and half-Parliament Funkadelic.
This dubious mathematical equation then combines with half-buried vocals and a driving, building rhythm section to create a tune that sticks a foot in your door, asking for no more than 5 minutes of your time. By the time it’s all over, you’re the proud owner of a ridiculously expensive vacuum and a new religion.
Well, it appears the Rotation will be a bit Heavier this week, what with RF’s massive contribution a few days ago, which brought some bizarre elements (metal, jazz) into the mix as well as some overt swipes at my musical tastes.
In other words, highly recommended.
If you haven’t checked it out yet, I recommend The Clean and The Pillows. Anything Could Happen is especially amazing.
So, then. You know the drill. Three links. Five tracks. (About two of them good…) Comments open. Volume way up.
[Also from the drill: Links open in a new window. Right-click on track names to download and save.]
We all remember I Write Like. Here’s some pretty thorough testing. (William Faulkner is like Margaret Mitchell. Steven King is like either Dan Brown or William Gibson, depending on number of paragraphs used…)
Growing – Innit.mp3
Straight outta Crooklyn, the 3-piece Growing lay down a piece of Fuck Buttons-esque pulsating psychedelia, staggered and gated throughout, building towards a climax that sounds not unlike a hornet’s nest filled with carillons. Requires a bit of patience and a whole lot of volume to pick up the nuances, but completely worth it.
Archive – Bullets.mp3
Massive UK post-rock collective (aren’t they all? Collectives, that is…) Archive drives powerful minor chords across a glistening, wet electronic pavement, trying in vain to outrun a pursuing storm. They can’t, of course, and it all collapses into a coda of crushed sequencers and rolling blackouts.
It all turns out to be much better than the sum of its parts, with both protagonists morphing into the audio equivalent of lipstick lesbians, who promptly head off and tag-team the conveniently placed stripper pole… musically-speaking.
(This is why I’m not allowed to write for any major music publication.)
Holy Fuck – SHT MTN.mp3
We’ve featured them before, but Holy Fuck are just so damn good. This one’s been getting repeated plays lately, weeks after the release of their amazing second album, Latin.
Raucous. Rocking. Two minutes and forty seconds of muscular drumming, bursts of impedence and rhythmic chanting. And for a few short seconds early on, you’ll be transported to a Quiet Riot.
This remix rocks hard, though, boosting up the stomping tempo and building a head of contemptuous, bluesy steam. It’s propulsive and infectious. And when the three-year old in your life says, “Sing it!” you had better start singing…
Well, I’ve been down so goddamn long
That it feels like up to me…
[Need a track removed? Taking me to task for my casual swearing and way more casual parenting? Donde esta el bano? Contact me at: firstname.lastname@example.org.]
You’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today. Well, I will cut to the chase. Mrs. Farnham passed on late last night, under the most suspicious of circumstances. At first it appeared to be nothing more than natural causes.
Closer inspection showed that her window had been opened from the outside. I also noted that the third finger of her left hand had been removed and used for a doorstop. I found trace amounts of ether and clown makeup on the adjacent pillow. Her Gideon Bible had been opened to a passage in Revelations and a cryptic note stating “Pick up drycleaning” could be made out when rubbed lightly with a pencil.
I will need a statement from each of you, going from oldest to youngest in reverse alphabetical order. Those of you with hypenated last names will need to choose one or the other. No more “keeping your options open.” I’m a little tired of watching line jumpers game the alphabet in this fashion.
It seems obvious, but I’ll mention it anyway: no one is to leave this room under all inquiries are finished. In the meantime, Jeeves will play some hand-selected tunes from his massive collection of 78s. Those of you with heart conditions are advised to lie down or curl into the nearest bassbin.
Holy Fuck – Lucky.mp3 Holy Fuck steps things up on their second album, bringing more focus to their psychedelic percussive workouts. Lucky is a prime example of this: a scratching riff melds with a some darting electronics, doing their best impression of a robotic Tom Morello jamming with the Parliament Funkadelic.
All of this combines with some half-buried (and mostly obscured) vocals and a driving, building rhythm section to creat a tune that sticks a foot in your door, asking for no more than 5 minutes of your time. By the time it’s all over, you’re the proud owner of a ridiculously expensive vacuum and a new religion.
As the elements jostle for position early on, you may feel that 2+2, while not actually stretching to “5”, is definitely riding the outer edge of “4.5”. But by the time the first chorus hits, the unlikely couple is locked into the same groove, getting along like Crips and Canadians. (They’re the peanut butter and chocolate of the gangster/nationality world.)
Young Boys – Bring Em Down.mp3
You know all that noise I make about A Place to Bury Strangers taking up the Jesus & Mary Chain’s “Joy of Feedback” cookbook and setting up shop at the local earbleedery? Well, the Young Boys (voted Most Likely to Google You Right Onto the NAMBLA Mailing List) take the fuzz and wah of the JAMC and run with it, making sure to pour on healthy amounts of burnt-out nihilism. (It’s like butter for music – makes everything instantly better.)
Something fucktacularly bad must have happened shortly thereafter. Their sophomore effort stomps all over the good vibes of their debut like a jackbooted biker “securing” a hippie at Altamont. Bitter, hard charging, feel-bad music to send out to the ones you used to love. Let them know how much their life will suck without you. How much they won’t be able to stop thinking about you.
Let me be
I’m not included
Not aware of any feelings
I see changes
Empty words on endless pages
I’m not alive
I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead
But I’ll come back to haunt you
I’ll be back to get you
I will not forget you
Showing what our dad would call “intestinal fortitude,” Frost briefly forsakes his minimal techno stylings for something that unabashedly forsakes the grey matter and heads right for the ass, which will soon be headed to the nearest dancing surface, with no regard for your better judgement/dancing ability. The beefed-up thump would make Bonham proud, if only he weren’t so busy rolling in his grave. Coverdale/Page, indeed.
Oh, and in a bit of blogging singularity, young Ulysses of Hidden Leaves dropped the unremixed classic during his Friday musical presentation. Odd, that. In another bit of full disclosure, I would like to say that we have never met before and therefore, there is no way that he could have foreknowledge of the clumsy magic trick we are about to perform, what with his being pulled “randomly” from the audience and all. (Note to self: remove suspicious quotation marks before posting. KTHX.)
Another week, another set of fine tunes to soundtrack whatever activities you have planned for a fine 4th o’ July weekend. Whether it’s yardwork (those corpses won’t bury themselves!), a family outing (those corpses won’t bury themselves, kids!) or just hanging around the house waiting for law enforcement to arrive (What did I say about the corpses? Kids? Who remembers?), these insta-classics will warm your heart and swallow your soul. Who’s ready to testify?
Fuck Buttons – Race You to My Bedroom Nearly ten full minutes of apocalyptic electronics and fuzz, all slowly and steadily building like the little fucking psychedelic engine that could. There are lyrics, although none that can be readily deciphered. Brutal in an impeding doom sort of way.
Holy Fuck – Super Inuit
A very high-quality live capture of the Fuckster’s in concert. Powerful drumming, lots of electronics tweaking and what sounds like a flute somewhere in the mix. Add some Suicide-esque echoed vocalizing and we’re off to the fucking races. Best served loud.
SALEM – Haffa
The claustrophobic sound of drowning, occasionally punctuated by Casio-quality handclaps and drums. Dirty, gray and suffocating. Suitable for the whole family, although probably not yours. Yours either. Maybe play it through once or twice first before calling the kids in to gather round the hi-fi.
Video for “Dirt.”
Belong – Late Night
So you say you like that drowning feeling you can only get from SALEM? But the handclaps and cheap-ass Casio drumwork are too “pop-ish” and leave you feeling like you might survive the encounter? Enter Belong, who remove the rhythm section and bury the vocals even further, turning the drowning feeling from unintentional to self-inflicted, with their cover of Syd Barrett’s Late Night.
m83 – Teen Angst
The amalgamation of one man’s quest to make the perfect My Bloody Valentine song, only using sequencers and synthesizers instead of guitars and $500,000 of label-destroying funds. Staccato bursts of drums, soaring vocals and a propulsive set of keyboard washes. Highly recommended.
All files in one convenient zip. Click thru to download (link opens in new window).
[All music posted on Fancy Plans… is kick ass and too awesome to be contained. All music is also posted temporarily and, due to it’s high level of ass-kicking, should not be distributed without a prescription and care should be taken while operating heavy equipment or dancing around the living room (clothing optional, but do remember that the blinds are open/kids are still awake).
Should you wish to have your brilliant artistic statement forced back into confinement, please email me at email@example.com. Feel free to leave a comment, as that will probably be noticed sooner.
By all means, if you like what you hear (and you will), please support the totally rocking artist(s) by purchasing some music or heading out to see them live.]