Thursday, June 30, 2005


And this...this is just fucking breath-taking:

Another Finnish 7", this time "Ultra" by Jan Anderzen and the wonderous Kemialliset Ystavat. Words fail me, quite frankly...I've no idea where to start. Okay, it's got three tracks on it, though there might as well be thirty...ideas are spewed out at a rate of knots, breathlessly overlapping with each other to form a series of spooky viginettes: microscopically-detailed dream-boxes that nag and gleam and snarl in a dizzy whirl of images somewhere above and behind your left eye. I...really....can't explain's almost too much for one record:

Tug-boat whistles toot across a shimmering sunken lakescape inhabited by vacuum-cleaners; a gamelan-orchestra dukes it out w/ 1950's style UFO-noises, drunken trolls, duck-calls and a fingerless mandolin-player. An orchestra of whistlers are drowned-out by a rampaging, stampeding horde of kazoo-nauts, African pipes compete for attention with a turbine... for Christsake, have pity on me, you bastards: I've only just got over something I heard a few days ago which I thought was the best record evah, then this bloody thing turns up...

It's too much.

On the other side: Something that...(jeez...there's a slowed-down voice that sounds like an animal, panning around behind something that...)...that beautiful shouldn't be allowed...Chris walks in: "Oh, I didn't know the local play group had made a record," she laughs (hardy-har-har) and walks out again ("My work here is done," says her Cheshire Cat smirk)...whistling, clinking, shine-ning cold-polar pulses of sound go in and out of phase with themselves; for a moment I don't recognise them as musical instruments...a beautiful slow wash of duhronnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnne floods over everything and suddenly what I thought was a flute unfolds itself and is found to be Michael Karoli's guitar unspooling itself from a lost Can rehearsal tape. Fiercely futuristic in places and Surreal (in the original sense of the word) this ep discretely uses synthwash swathes and sample-texture to map the neural noise-corridors of dreams that we've not got round to having yet. A single 7" with more ideas than most 'musicians' have in their entire careers...

'Folk', my arse...

This is so far ahead of everything else that it's almost fucking shameful.