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The Corner Office Max Zuckerman GALTTA-030 This is some mind-blowingly smooth shit! Like most of the stars in the Galtta Media universe (Adrian Knight, Alice Cohen, Dave Lackner, Billy G. Robinson, Nick Stevens, Blue Jazz TV)) Max Zuckerman, the Blue Jazz TV guitarist, is trying to raise the jazz-rock & sophistipop bar past many more visual predecessors and contemporaries. The album opens with chord changes that would make Walter Becker blush and a powerful vocal zeal. Royal Scam era Steely Dan is obviously the first place I'd go as far as comparisons but really it has dense sophistipop elements evocative of The Blue Nile, Talk Talk, or Japan! The choruses anthemic, the guitar solos masterful with distinct tones; there is brilliant songs on this record. This record is blessed with a shit load of jazz hits! Zuckerman's distinct style fringes upon Steely Dan's Aja as well with groovy boogie counterpoint and thrilling dynamics. |
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Share My Chaise Billy n' Dave GALTTA-029 “Billy” is the inimitable Billy G. Robinson, soul singer, and “Dave” is David Lackner, multi-instrumentalist and purveyor of all fine things Galtta. Together they jam – they jam reeeeal good. Like 1970s and 1980s R&B at its finest, Share My Chaise is drenched in innuendo and entendre, perfect for romance and relaxation. Robinson’s tenor floats beautifully over Lackner’s complex arrangements, and the result is like Lionel Richie or Stevie Wonder jamming with Steely Dan at a late-night lounge. They both know their way around a melody – I was going to call out Lackner specifically for his incredible attention to detail on his sax and synth runs, but man, Robinson is just a virtuoso in vocal seduction. This pairing is for reals! “Change your ways/ share my chaise” goes the title track, and there isn’t a better mission statement you’re going to get as an album opener. The come-ons may be dripping with intention, but there’s a knowingness to them as well, especially in the Me Too era. “What makes me different from all of the others?” Robinson sings. To that end, Share My Chaise serves as an ode to the great romantic records you may have heard when you were a kid, and Lackner and Galtta prove again that they’re at the top of this throwback game. No, not “throwback” – they’re bringing R&B into the future. -Ryan, CASSETTE GODS 3/23/2020 You are traveling fifty-some-odd floors skyward in an elevator, at a reasonable pace. The sound system is fresh, and the bell-hop/DJ obviously values mortality* less than the average bear. Billy N’ Dave’s “Share My Chaise" is being piped in via bluetooth technology, cz there are (obviously) some unavoidable herkings and jerkings bound to happen, 'twixt landings, due to structural issues, and a proper turntable would be too bulky, anyway… but, really, our devil-may-care bell-hop here, all they Really Want To Do is both exercise the freedom to test your will power for actually not shaking, shimmying, prancing, & otherwise stomping your foot on the floating floor in ecstatic appreciation for this truly undeniable groovage here, and but also (said bellhop) wants to see just how quickly (not the If, but the When) you will question just-what-the-fuck not only are they doing here in the first place but what, exactly, do they (the royal “they") even-like-really Mean by “elevator music”, “cheesiness”, “fusion**”, or “personal space”?! *theirs AND yours Share My Chaies is a soulful and warm album between close friends Billy G. Robinson and David Lackner. Having worked together on various projects since 2009, the pair finally released this dazzling collaborative 11-track project on Galtta Tapes. With slick soul vibes, jazz grooves and outsider pop flair, this LP is one you can’t miss. Providing maximum comfort, the pair have ceated a soothing album that encourages relaxation. Listen to Billy n’ Dave’s Share My Chaise below, and make sure you support this fantastic record. - CF Smith, TWISTED SOUL 2/14/2020 The years have generously poured through time, sounds have been lost and found again. With each excavation of these sonic waves, we find a most desired fermentation surrounding them. Share My Chaise is the newest release from the GALTTA label, and like everything before, filled with smooth delivered wisdom. David Lackner and Billy G. Robinson finding accord and adding finely honed patience and experience to a base of sounds most of us easily identify with. The Billy and Dave we’re talking about here are Billy G. Robinson, who handles vocals, and David Lackner, an esteemed multi-instrumentalist, who have been working together for over a decade now. A record 5 years in the making, Billy and Dave are in fine company on Share My Chaise, as members of Blue Jazz TV help flesh out this varied and charming affair. The title track starts the album with some cosmic soul as warm grooves and flute friendly elegance run alongside Dan Nissenbaum’s trumpet, and “VHS” follows with a quick blast of tropical sounds in the sunny and playful minute.“Lost Without Your Love”, the highlight of side A, brings synth and hand clapping fun to the ‘80s setting of R&B influences, while “Low” ends the first side with soundbites, strong percussion and plenty of ambience. Side B is just 3 songs, but they are much longer, where Genevieve Kamel Morris brings her breathy, seductive pipes to the formula on “Trust”, and “Lovers Paradise” warbles with quirky synth in the atmospheric approach. “For Sharon” ends the listen with 9 minutes of dreamy, rhythmic tones as David Lackner’s flute acrobatics and Adrian Knight’s clever bass work add much to the cozy exit. Like much of the music released on the Galtta label, this one’s on cassette and extremely limited at just 115 copies. And also much like the music released on the label, it’s an extremely creative, atypical in its delivery, and full of modern ideas that are also very rooted in richness of retro nods. Travels well with: Purelle- Gotta Have It!; Alice Cohen & The Channel 14 Weather Team- Artificial Fairytales - TAKE EFFECT 2/9/2020 |
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Serenity Ron Thomas and John Swana GALTTA-028 This Galtta stuff, am I right? You just never know what they’re going to release, but you can be almost 100% certain that it’s gonna get under your skin in the most pleasant and affective ways possible. Sometimes it’ll be the most amazing soft rock this side of Seals and Crofts. Other times it’ll be something like “Serenity,” which takes cues from Tangerine Dream and Cluster and Eno but also has kindred-spirit Galtta releases in Energy ?(TM) and Purelle. That’s what Ron Thomas (not Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20) and John Swana are slingin’.As much as you’re like me and want to shout “Serenity now!” at the top of your lungs or start watching the “Firefly” episodes over again, this kind of “Serenity” is this kind of serenity, a little relaxation music with a psychedelic edge. In fact, whatever that thing is on the cover of the tape looks a little like a serpent-y version of the alien life forms encountered far under the sea in “The Abyss” – but a little more weird and wild and maaaaybe less willing to help. In fact, listening to “Serenity” will give you the vibe of being in some kind of extraterrestrial terrarium, a sealed environment in which you’re interacting with a controlled ecosystem, but one that you’ve never encountered before.But safe! It’s all very above-the-board, and there’s no way you can really get hurt here. In fact, you’re left to observe life as it happens as Thomas and Swana fill the atmosphere with bubbling pockets of energy, swirls of ambience so appropriate that you’ll swear you’re breathing them rather than listening to them. And that’s probably intentional – actual living DNA seems to be encoded in the DNA of these tracks, lending them an incredibly tactile quality despite their ethereality. The full effect is one of equal comfort and disorientation, like you’re tripping balls or something with your best friends in somebody’s parents’ swimming pool in the middle of the night.Or so I assume that’s what it would feel like. Gulp!Anyway, hey – this is a hot one. Grab it from Galtta while you can! Edition of 125. - Ryan Masteller, TABS OUT 8/12/19 The folks over at Galtta fly in some interesting airspace. They play with bizarre-yet-smooth pop, and then they’ll throw a curveball at you with a record like Serenity. This beast is a kosmische maelstrom courtesy of two jazz types who moonlight as electronic conjurers. Swana is a trumpeter who also wields the EVI (electronic valve instrument) and Thomas is a pianist and composer whose ivory-tickling strays into the electronic keyboard and synth realm. Together they romp around the house built by Tangerine Dream and it’s to great effect. This 3rd effort from jazz luminaries Ron Thomas and John Swana has Thomas handling keyboards while Swana holds down EVI duties (Electronic Valve Instrument) across 4 tunes that twist and turn with synth fueled maneuvering that rarely sounds like it originated on earth. “Message” starts the listen with an ‘80s ambience that gets spacey and cinematic with a charming sense of mystery, where waves of synth and a dreamy setting make these 10 minutes soar by, and “Rainforest” follows with a sci-fi feeling where ambient noises resemble animals and the atmosphere turns darker.The last 2 tunes keep the creativity high and the unclassifiable landscape even higher. While “Foundation” sounds it could soundtrack a space craft landing on another planet in another dimension with its artistic restraint, “Serenity” closes out the affair indeed with a calm offering of meditative, soothing electronica manipulation that few could replicate. An amazing collaboration that was actually recorded in 2007, Thomas and Swana were and still are way ahead of their time, as their musical vision far exceeds just about anything else being made. - TAKE EFFECT The deep groove of these sounds come from a future time. A place where cosmic wisps speed past, sending tingles through the consciousness. Rhythmic bass lines propelling the fascination, reaching giant totems that part aside, opening to a weightless jungle. A place of beauty, alien flora and fauna living within a gem of the emptiness. The sojourn touches roots here. This could be the fabled Eden, where tranquility gains its meaning. But with peacefulness, a feeling of uneasiness also lingers. The duality of all things brings awareness and knowledge. Serenity ushers us away, smoothly and delightfully, a round trip journey that needs to be taken many times. Two recent cassette releases from the always interesting Brooklyn-based Galtta label, the first a soundscapes-styled set by two Philadelphia-based musicians, keyboardist Ron Thomas and E.V.I. player John Swana, the second a transporting foray into psychedelic entrancement by Natalie Rose LeBrecht. Issued in an edition of 125 copies, Serenity, the third recording by the duo, presents four immersive and synthesizer-heavy soundscapes. Swana originally made a name for himself as a jazz trumpeter-slash-flügelhornist until a benign tumor forced him to take up other instruments, the E.V.I. (Electronic Valve Instrument) among them. Thomas likewise brings an interesting background to their collaboration, the pianist having played, for example, with Pat Martino and studied with Stockhausen in the ‘70s. Serenity has very little to do with jazz, however, a fact made clear when “Message” inaugurates the thirty-five-minute set with synth whooshes and sweeping atmospherics. Given the details about the release, one might expect its sound to present a clear juxtaposition between Swana's and Thomas's instruments; in fact, little separates the two when their E.V.I. and keyboards blend into a trippy mass of spacey swirls and sequencer-like pulses.More galaxial New Age than jazz, “Message” burbles buoyantly for ten minutes before giving way to “Rainforest,” an aptly titled solo excursion by Thomas into a humid zone populated by all manner of chirping creatures and environmental noises. More interplanetary travel awaits on side B, the twelve-minute colossus “Foundation” first sending us to the unsettling outer reaches where stillness reigns, whooshes dazzle, and reverberations of inestimable enormity make the shuttle shake, after which the ambient-styled title track soothes with a less frazzling meditation, all sparkling synth glissandos and meandering bass figures. - TEXTURA, September 2019 |
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Mandarava Rose Natalie Rose LeBrecht GALTTA-027
This is only a guess, but was our universe hummed into existence? Hear me out: only by some initiating force could all the pieces have fallen into place to kickstart a process that has resulted in sentient life on a planet billions of years later. Right? And we can be glad that everything turned out as it did – who knows what kind of hideous lizard people we would have become otherwise. (Yes, I am talking about us, humans.)On another hunch: Natalie Rose LeBrecht has channeled that galactic hum on “Mandarava Rose.” How else can you explain the deep mysticism and cosmic connection on her new tape? LeBrecht, like a pagan medium, inhales the mysteries of life, the universe, and everything and exhales her interpretation of it (and no, it’s not “42”). Proving that we’re meant to evolve through introspection and self-betterment, LeBrecht weaves om-like trance-inducing passages, generating unwavering sonic fields that grow in power the more they’re allowed to sound. Not only that, but they’re beautifully intricately crafted – you gotta do a deep dive on this one to tease out all the nuance. Like Nico and Clannad jamming in slow motion at Liz Harris’s place but with Inner Islands’ New Age tchotchkes available to totally mess around with, Natalie Rose LeBrecht, along with collaborator (and Galtta dude) David Lackner, go as far as they can to continue moving us away from a future lizard existence. Now THAT’S the kind of numinous spellcasting I can get behind! Where’s my twenty-sided die? Delight your mind and heart and set adrift on a universal path with “Mandarava Rose,” available from Galtta Media in an edition of 110 “Hi-Fi cassette tapes”! -Ryan Masteller, TABS OUT 11/1/2019 Oh man, the Galtta crew is on a roll this year. First came the Ron Tomas & John Swana cassette and now we are treated to this delightful reel of magnetic bliss. Natalie Rose LeBrecht is a songwriter who has spent much of the last decade away from releasing music, instead focusing on the exploration of meditation and hypnosis. She turned her focus inward. We are blessed to be able to experience her music again. "Ah!” is an exclamation! Of bliss and the memory of a smile. It is a shiver, a sigh. It expresses, it breathes, caresses or seethes. No more is it merely a word than can be said without being overcome in its saying, as the bird does not merely fly, but also gives itself to the air beneath its wing. A flight without fleeing, it is its insurgent impending outside of itself. It is just like this: Ah! It is much too much. And just like that, Mandarava Rose, an album of devotional songs dedicated to Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda by the heiress of freak-folk who has returned (after 15 years since a release in her name) to gift us its opening flourish of “Ah,” begins with a flourish, as in a tragedy or as in love, in their wounds, their tenderness both, or, perhaps, merely in a contended sigh that says, Ah, if only could I remain here, in this moment for a while, so stays, so, swaying, the moment extends to enfold you, so the flower welcomes the light it leaves. A flourish as of the piano under the fingers of Popol Vuh’s Florian Fricke, aching at the advent of Hosianna Mantra. Before Herzog and after Fricke’s Moog passed into the keeping of Klaus Schulze (though it would reappear in Tangerine Dream’s “Birth of Liquid Plejades,” the stark, foreboding opener of 1972’s Zeit), Popol Vuh’s Komische mysticism would find on “Ah!” a stillness saturated with grace that might disclose the most perfect purity of prayer. It flutters, it hovers, and weightlessly it expands from merely a trick of the light to an adornment of the depths. “Rishi Stars” begins with the same flourish, the same airy grace of a piano tingling your spine or dawn’s demure ingress. Flush with a sense of soothing centeredness, her voice spreads like blush under a rosy-fingered caress, as it mingles with a flute and a beaming expanse of bliss. In her voice’s ecstatic gentleness dissolves all awareness of anything but this moment, which we miss so dearly. And the breathy resonance and reverence of her organic synths that unite her piano’s sweeping waves and whorls, streaked with chimes and their wind, makes of this missing the infinite and incalculable rapture of rosebuds or petals, wavering upon the watery face of the void. Like Popol Vuh’s saintly serenity that passed from komische Berlin-school synth-futurism to something less synthetic, denuded of plastic and artifice, synthesizing instead a spirituality of the soil, of the body, a multifaceted mysticism enwrapping enraptured medieval Christian hymns with the writings of Martin Buber, for instance, and Hinduism, Indian instruments converging with European orchestration, all under the voice of soprano Djong Yun, that very voice for which Fricke was searching on the synthesizer that he could now abandon as spurious now facing the flesh, in the purity and breadth of LeBrecht’s voice one hears this new age assuaged of excess, settling in the wavering of a seed before bloom. One also hears traces of Alice Coltrane’s mantras like Turiya Sings and those divine cassettes that follow under the name of Turiyasangitananda (“the transcendental Lord’s highest song of bliss”), Divine Songs, Infinite Chants, and Glorious Chants. She who followed her cosmic jazz, gospel, and blues to the outer reaches of a radical transcendence of sound where it all shattered in a streaming display of light, freedom, and bright, shimmering abandon, only to find with the discrete serenity of synths and strings an utterly simple necessity, the center of a rose, the unfolding of light from lightness, breathed in the assurance of “Ah” Turiya’s dreaming, dreamless sleep, what the Mandukya Upanishad deems “the awareness of the Self in its single existence, in Whom all phenomena dissolve.” LeBrecht’s 2003 debut — Warraw, which is still distressingly sparse with uncanny windchimes and clouded windows, gawking in the meantime at our seriousness from threadbare patchwork margins with gusts of candid frivolities — and both Imagining Weather and her releases under Greenpot Bluepot are closer with their freakiness and folkiness in tenor to a Ksi??yc or Paavoharju than any Devandra or Joanna. Yet, all this dissolves into the deliquescence of the calls and cries to come to life in “Rosebud & Lotus” or the trembling arpeggios of “Rivers” blooming as her voice flies away into an ocean of Ah’s. It all dissolves into the flourish at the close of “Hear Today.” In this gloriously wistful ballad that could have dawned from the lips of Julee Cruise, if she and Angelo Badalamenti were to have privately released a New Age tape in the ocean instead of a red room, she sings so tenderly of what is missed so tenderly, a smile, a caress, a dawn that reunites all that which is lost into a quivering aria of Ah’s, so that, so tenderly, what, here today, is gone tomorrow, can be, gone tomorrow, hear today. It all dissolves, it is all united in the fleeting flourish of a breath through the fleeting, fluttering keys of a flute, a dawn, a flourish, an Ah! like light and its leaving, which is only this thin glow, this shimmering sense of light being only what light has imparted, impressed before parting. A flourish and an embellishment, not a decoration (perhaps a decortication), but more longingly this lingering before the doorway, this malingering moment leaving you with its leaving you, will never leave you, will leave you the time of its leaving so as to weave together its passing, that substance of which you consist. - Evan Coral TINY MIX TAPES 9/23/2019 From the opening notes of ‘Rishi Stars’, it’s clear Natalie Rose LeBrecht set her innermost self on a collision course with the cosmos while recording this music. The vocalist/composer has been largely radio silent for a decade spent away from making music it would seem, with the origin story for this release stemming from the ten years spent focusing on meditation and, I kid you not, hypnosis. Her study of the latter sent LeBrecht mentally travelling to “extraordinary interdimensional spheres”, which she aims to channel into the music on Mandarava Rose. While the influence of Alice Coltrane’s ashram years is undeniable – the aforementioned ‘Rishi Stars’, replete with glissandi, is even dedicated to Turiyasangitananda herself – LeBrecht’s patience, focus, and piano playing is the key ingredient across this blessed piece of cassette music. Rolling waves of piano keys, floating organs, and shimmering woodwind create an almost aggressively peaceful backdrop for LeBrecht’s painfully intimate vocals. Getting lost in this one isn’t only highly recommended. It’s easy. - Tristan Bath, THE QUIETUS 9/11/2019 Galtta Media is one of the more consistent purveyors of experimental sounds having defined an electronic- and jazz-tinged forcefield around itself yet still find ways to subvert expectations. Last year's Nick Stevens tape came out of left field (yet somehow made perfect sense) and I loved it. Now we have this tape from Natalie Rose LeBrecht and I feel the same, it fits right within "the Galtta sound" while feeling like a departure as well. Two recent cassette releases from the always interesting Brooklyn-based Galtta label, the first a soundscapes-styled set by two Philadelphia-based musicians, keyboardist Ron Thomas and E.V.I. player John Swana, the second a transporting foray into psychedelic entrancement by Natalie Rose LeBrecht. The largely self-taught Natalie Rose LeBrecht (a couple of years were spent working for and studying under LaMonte Young) has spent the years since 2016 exploring “extraordinary interdimensional spheres” (her words). In light of that, it wouldn't be wrong to broach the fifty-four-minute Mandarava Rose as a physical manifestation of that inner experience. The project's spiritual dimension even brings Alice Coltrane into the picture, LeBrecht having dedicated the opening piece, “Rishi Stars,” to Turiyasangitananda, Coltrane's spiritual name.To help realize the project, LeBrecht invited Martin Bisi and David Lackner aboard, the former to engineer and co-produce and the latter to augment her pianos, organ, and vocals with flute, saxophones, bells, and synthesizer. Instrumentally, the recording satisfies, especially when her billowing keyboard runs are joined by woodwinds and bells, and the music rises and falls dreamily in a manner true to the meditative, somewhat zoned-out character of the project. It's LeBrecht's singing that I suspect could be the deal-breaker for some. When multiplied into a hushed choir, her husky voice is effective (see “Rishi Stars”); there are times, however, during the eleven-minute “Rosebud & Lotus” when its wobble might leave you queasy. Stated otherwise, her singing definitely has personality, but it's also something of an acquired taste. Thankfully, the compositions and the instrumental performances are compelling enough to largely counter reservations about the vocalizing. And don't get the wrong impression: many a piece isn't compromised by the singing. Intoning as an angelic mini-choir, it blends well with keyboards and woodwinds during the entrancing “Ocean of Ah” and dirge “In the Beginning.” It's even possible to hear a little bit of Julee Cruise and the Twin Peaks universe seeping from Mandarava Rose, during the closing “Hear Today,” for instance. With LeBrecht's piano sprinkling these weird, organ- and woodwinds-slathered New Age drones like some bizarre riff on Lawrence Welk, Mandarava Rose sounds like few other recordings out there, which, some would argue, legitimizes the release's existence all by itself. - TEXTURA, September 2019 Though it’s been nearly a decade since Natalie Rose LeBrecht released music, she’s stayed quite busy with meditation, hypnosis, and the concept of space. With these influential ideas in mind, Mandarava Rose finds the artist entering new avenues of her psyche-influenced experimentalism. “Rishi Stars” starts the listen with twinkling synth and moody keys as LeBrecht’s breathy voice settles in nicely to the spacey, calming setting that even includes flutes from multi-instrumentalist David Lackner, who also handles bells, synth and brass on the record. The remainder of the album is equally enchanting, including the emotive and ethereal ten minutes of “Rosebud & Lotus”, the vocally expressive and subtle pop influences of “Lost”, and the indeed dreamy and hypnotic atmosphere of “Autonomy Dream”. At the end, “Ocean Of Ah” brings a strong psychedelic impulse on an angelic tune with quivering saxophone from Lackner, and “Hear Today” ends the affair with chilling vocals and strategic sax in the contemplative and moving exit. An intimate and adventurous listen, LeBrecht places atypical avant-garde jazz moments in this highly unique listen, where traces of folk and classical invade the sonically intriguing delivery. Let’s hope that Rose has more art coming soon; 9 years would be too long to wait to hear more from this ingenious mind. Travels well with: Phillip Glass- Passages; Alice Coltrane- World Galaxy - TAKE EFFECT, 8/6/2019 Connecting written descriptions of sound to compositions of ethereal nature is a challenging en devour. As with all music we listen to, aligning our mood and feelings with the sounds being conveyed is most important. Mandarava Rose is special in this sense, after the first few listens the relationship was still distant. A perplexing concern since there is so much talent and beauty being revealed. Changing space and time, removing conceptions of what seems to make sense, basically allowing Natalie Rose LeBrecht to push the conscious margins in the direction she flourishes in, this is the method on the listeners side needing constant heightening. Fortunately we are graced with recordings like this, GALTTA and BLIGHT.Records are two labels that come to mind. Natalie Rose Lebrecht is one of my absolute favorites. Her music has always been all over the place with her first album “Daymares and Nightdreams” playing around with lo-fi piano rants full of distress. “Warraw” — touching upon freak-folk incantations. “Imagining Weather” — pushing the freak-folk into more desolate areas, and finally ending up with “Ascend at the Dead End” that infused a lot of Eastern influences into her songwriting. After 7 years, we get to hear the next chapter in her musical oeuvre. Mandarava Rose. This time we get a gorgeous ambient pop record! With inspiration from Alice Coltrane and assistance from minimalist composer David Lackner, the album is a meditation on matters of galactic proportions. It is full of shimmering pianos, echoing bells and very minimal saxophone breaths. It’s full of freedom, love, and spiritual ascension. They are all intertwined with a dream-like instrumental accompaniment full of repetition and drones, seeming almost infinite. The entire album appears to exist in a haze like a cosmic cloud of some sort. The album, just as every other release from Natalie, wouldn’t have been half of what it is without Natalie’s vocal performance. She is always dynamic with her vocal range and always finds the exact right vocal arrangement for each scenario. It maintains a soothing, dream-like state throughout the entirety of the album but never gets repetitive or stale. It fits right in with the mellow-sounding saxophone parts, merging into one of the most pleasant duets from this year. I have very few complaints about this record. Maybe there could have been a bit more variety to the sound of the record. But in a way, it would interrupt this sense of unity and infinity throughout the entirety of its duration. I am also slightly saddened that some of the Aura series pieces that Natalie posted on YouTube a while ago under pseudonym greenpotbluepot weren’t present on the record. I think that they would fit the overall “feel” of the record. One of my favorite records from 2019 so far. I highly recommend checking it out and looking into Natalie’s previous releases for even more magical worlds with a slight hint of “weirdness” to them. - Aydarbek Kurbansho , LOUDER.ME 9/19/2019
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Vacation Man Adrian Knight GALTTA-025 I’ve always seen that cliche that the holidays is a slow time for new music. In my four years of this blog, I’ve never had a difficult time finding music I love at this time of the year. This year has been the exception. I’ve been listening to a ton of music, but nothing until this new cassette from Adrian Knight motivated me to post something.“Vacation Man” has just been released on Galtta Media (Brooklyn). I last posted about this label in February 2016 (Blue Jazz TV). At the time I mentioned Steely Dan, Level 42 and Prefab Sprout. Adrian Knight has the feel of those bands, but I would also add Ryan Power (he gets special thanks on “Vacation Man”) and the smooth feel of Tredici Bacci (both on NNA Tapes). - BANDCAMP SNOOP 12/20/2018 Considering Adrian Knight had such a huge hand in Nick Stevens's fantastic tape last summer, I was very keen to take a listen to Knight's new tape when it arrived earlier in the year. After dropping something like 15 releases in the past decade (not to mention his work on other people's projects like Stevens), the ever-prolific Knight rolls with a very distinct style and, admittedly, it's taken me a bit of time to figure out how I feel about it. To be honest, I'm still not quite sure, but that almost always turns out to be a good thing in my experience. This gentleman is a Swedish ex-pat who lives in New York and is a mainstay of the Galtta Media empire, which is helmed by one David Lackner. Adrian Knight may call NYC home, but he truly resides in a universe where corporate training videos, Club Med advertising, and a sort of post-nostalgic, morose funk all collide into a broken-down version of the American Dream. On the surface, everyone is all smiles, with perfectly coiffed hair, the right clothes, a great car, and a bronze body. Dig deeper and wage slavery is the rule, and we are all pining for some time away, all-inclusive, where we can plow down cocktails and gorge ourselves at the buffet trough. Enter Vacation Man. I wish I was Adrian Knight. I mean, not even a little bit – I WANT to be him, like BE HIM be him. That unflinching coolness is something to aspire to, and no reviewer worth their salt would ever omit the term “smooth operator” in a write up of one of his albums. I wanted to get that out of the way so you know I’m serious. I’m not joking in any way at all. I want to – no, I MUST attain a modicum of that lifestyle in order to truly feel like I’m a complete version of myself. At first blush, this cassette made me think it had fallen through a space-time vortex from 1979. Heavy influences range from Steely Dan to Alan Parsons Project and other late night rotation AM radio hits. As the music progresses, however, a vague sense of unease sets in. Nostalgia morphs into moden anxiety and the despair of unfulfilled relationships. Adrian's lyrics are edgy and spare no dark emotion: Lost a whole week stuck in bed, I couldn’t get up even if I tried, Called in sick to make some space inside my head, Karen at the pawnshop said, you can’t just keep paddling on in the dangerous tide,Lucy’s gone but you’re still alive.... and that's some of the lighter stuff. The last track, Radiogram, even sounded depressed, like it was recorded deep within the recesses of an abandoned factory at midnight. Vacation Man is no vacation. Musically, however, Vacation Man captivates with a surreal retro sensibility. Vacation Man, please do not despair, your dignity is still on the top of the charts. Listening to this massive testimonial to life and friends, your sorrows resonate with the drizzling rain outside the window. The years have gone by so quickly, remembering these tones and timbre from parents records and childhood radio. Adrian Knight shows how existence is cyclic, what was smooth and silky, discarded then found again. A polyester jacket, sewn with a large collar and zipper closure, sits in the closet. Removed from the hanger and worn again, still fascinating with bright multi colored patterns, but somehow out of place in modern fashion. These tracks are flipped from white to black, played in a hazy minor scale and radiating a melancholy beauty. Like the yacht rock daddies of yesteryear, Adrian Knight is here to take you away for a while. The Brooklyn-based Knight dropped this one just before the new year, drifting out of the shitshow of 2018 with a well-tailored grace matched only by Lewis Baloue, piña colada in hand, all fucks firmly ungiven. The Van Goghian waiting room portrayed on the cover, idyllic beach blaring up the wall over a dimly greying carpet, does well to summarise the music on Vacation Man. This is music cut from the most tasteless, tawdry and tacky of tools. And it’s somehow all the more blissful for it. |
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Energy Star Energy Star GALTTA-026 A duo consisting of Camilla Padgitt-Coles and Bryce Hackford, the pair put a metronome and synthesizer to good use on this minimalist and artistic journey of highly creative prowess. After the bright bass work and soothing synth of “~”, “~~” presents a polyrhythmic display where the sounds of water dripping are emulated amid plenty of atypical synth stabs.“~~~”, the shortest track, then finds a percussive place to reside alongside a hypnotic landscape, while “~~~~” spends 15+ minutes turning repetition into a refined art from in an almost meditative fashion. “~~~~~” ends the listen with a dreamy quality that fades into sparse manipulation.Padgitt-Coles previously recorded under the moniker Ivy Meadow and Future Shuttle, and Hackford’s been releasing solo work for over a now decade now, and here their combined forces make for a fascinating and even enlightening experience that’s limited to just 100 cassettes (only 4 left!). - Take Effect 2/16/2020 In the recesses of the night, where artificial glow of modern civilization is defeated by darkness, Energy ?(TM) is found. Ambient tranquility constructed from late at night excursions into the city. Rhythms and beats gathered from the din of vibrant venues exceeding curfews of closing times. These sounds have been transcribed, sinking into the woods and groves dotting secluded islands around the globe. What once was cold angles of concrete and steel, is now fine sand and rustic bamboo. A connection still exists, only the new direction feels fantastically more radiant. Camilla Padgitt-Coles & Bryce Hackford (each of them having been absolutely brilliant minimalist/ambient/drone innovators fresh off the Perfect Wave roster!) join forces and venture into techno-beat territory here with their safari-grade collaboration, “Energy Star”, on GALTTA. This is the third cassette from the bedroom house/techno duo Energy ?(TM), and it’s their second eponymous edition. Comprising ethereal dream weaver Camilla Padgitt-Coles (Ivy Meadows, Future Shuttle) and experimental producer/composer Bryce Hackford, the on-going collaborative project drifts in the liminal spaces that exist outside of genre, place and time. The music lives in between, the electronic constructions hovering not quite within the bounds of either composition or improvisation. The beauty of the music subsists in and for itself, with each of the five pieces residing in its own singular microcosm. Yet a conceptual thread ties the entire cassette together. Calling this music ‘house’ and/or ‘techno’ is actually slightly misleading, as really only the opening track “~” really exists within such narrow realms with its juicy bass line and hi-hat shuffle. An arcane ooze infects the oblique rhythm of “~~”, but a pair of sprightly, disjointed melodies dance across its slippery foundation. The relatively brief “~~~” is an improvisational percussive romp that carries its own uncanny sense of time. Wrapping all these conceptual notions together is the gorgeous “~~~~”, which sways effortlessly across its 16-minute run time. Its blissful blanket of drone will surely bring lidded eyes and a lackadaisical smile to those who partake. Wrapping up the proceedings is “~~~~~” with a brittle rhythm that is the most alien of the bunch. Delicate chimes and a series of organ drones serve to lighten the mood as the piece drifts toward a peaceful conclusion.Arriving in an edition of 100 pro-dubbed cassettes, this enigmatic song cycle is certainly worth exploring, so head to the Galtta Media Bandcamp to snap up a copy for yourself. - Nine Chains To The Moon 11/19/2018 This one was tricky, because words are symbols, and the meaning is abstract. Not only is Energy ?(TM) basically a walking concept, it’s also a source of renewable power. One listen to this self-titled cassette on Galtta and you’ll be driving that hot new Prius with the tape deck plugged into the battery. That’s how Energy ?(TM) intends you to roll. Camilla Padgitt-Coles made one of 2017’s best tapes under her Ivy Meadows moniker, and her thoughtful approach carries over to Energy ?(TM), her duo with Bryce Hackford. Each track—all of which are titled with increasing tildes—employs a simple, sturdy beat, upon which Padgett-Coles and Hackford layer sonic accents. That could be a formula for overload, but the pair are pretty minimalist, so even as the sounds build up, everything stays transparent. It’s almost as if you can see through the skin of these songs to see the blood pumping through their veins. Each piece becomes a kind of meditative mantra, something to hold onto as you let everything else go. - Marc Masters, Hi Bias, Bandcamp Daily |
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Purelle Purelle GALTTA-024 My partner says she’s not sure if she likes this, but it sounds like 80’s porn. Purelle’s “Gotta Have It” is an outright aural assault of righteous, unapologetically commercial, old school New Age sax, flute, & synth jamz. It is howl-at-the-moon sexy. It is constipatingly cheesy. It is equally as spine-taxingly laid back as it is a creche of poised-for-the-camera spray-tan and bleach-tooth.So glib it is sincere; so sincere, it is glib, Purelle’s “Gotta Have It” is the perfect tape to pop in if you wanna weird the shit out of your neighbors or in-laws in the most plausibly deniable way possible.My partner says she’s not sure if she likes it, but it definitely makes her think of 80’s porn. I do concur. — Jacob An Kittenplan, Cassette Gods 8/6/2019 You can never be too clean. Adrian Knight and David Lackner fire off a smooth missive as Purelle. These two have been at it under various names, mostly on the Brooklyn-based Galtta label, peeling off electro-jazz movements somewhere between Co La and Novoline. Gotta Have It! strings together four ten-minute smooth jazz journeys, with dominant flute lines, blistering synth, and recordings of waves, animals (crying dogs?), and an offhand voicemail. Shuffling percussion—kit-based and hand-drum heavy—keeps the four pieces turbulence-free. It might be easy to write this off as snoozy muzak, but there’s too many weird house bits sloshing around this gazpacho to do that comfortably. It’s almost like a discovered dialect of Mr. Fingers. Gel jazz for the sanitary. - Ian Forsythe, Boston Hassle Purelle is the duo of Adrian Knight, who handles synth, rhodes, guitar, and percussion, and David Lackner, who holds down sax, flute, EWI, and percussion. Together their 45+ minutes of music spans just four tunes. Both of the players have had their hands in plenty of other bands and projects (although the hands on the cover art here belong to Alice Cohen), and their experimental ideas have always resided somewhere between jazz fusion, art-punk, and carefully constructed noise.
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The New Age Nick Stevens GALTTA-022 Not gonna lie here, I loveeeeeee sophistipop. Be it Scritti or Tears for Fear or Prefab Sprout. Producer and multi-instrumentalist Adrian Knight seemingly has a license to print sophisti-pop gold and this new Galtta Media release by Nick Stevens is noooooo exception. Steven's hypnotizingly deep voice lends to the intricate songsmithing and unique arrangements but this is really pressing on something deeper and more realized than much of what I've heard in a while from pop music in general. Do you like listening to things that sound like Leonard Cohen? Or even Leonard Cohen himself? If the answer is "fuck yeah!" (it should be) then read this review and buy this tape. Nick Stevens.... you have been eluding description. Listening for weeks now and there you stand. Like a deer, ahead on the trail, both seen and seeing back. Getting close and through the woods you go. The New Age feels like it is from ages ago. A subdued and surreal journey meant for the super chill, the after party with location only known to the few. Thank you for the invitation, although still mildly out of place, the repeated listens have opened thoughts to a sonic landscape evading whereabouts. Nick Stevens is in great company here with Adrian Knight of Blue Jazz TV handling the rhythm section and the legendary Alice Cohen lending her vocals on four tracks.
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Eulogy Family in Mourning ft. Lydia Lunch GALTTA-021 Former no wave pioneer turned spoken word artist Lydia Lunch returns with an astonishing set of funereal ballads, backed by new group Family In Mourning. On Eulogy Lunch reflects on the thin line that separates life from death. The music accompanying these meditations ranges from moodily piped jazz to simply strummed acoustic guitars, but the most harrowing example here is “Dust And Shadow”, which acts as the album’s moving finale. In essence it is Lunch at the bedside of her dying lover, beseeching him to go towards the light that is beckoning him to the other side, where he will be set free from the pain of existence. Despite the anguished subject matter it is a beautifully performed piece, one that ranks alongside Patti Smith’s “Birdland” as a piece of pure vocal art. Edwin Puncey -THE WIRE Lydia Lunch and a Fully Operational Funeral Collective Is Peak Goth 2017
As concept albums go, Eulogy is among the less whimsical of its kind. With no wave poet Lydia Lunch, a minister with the multi-faith Universal Life Church, fronting the bulk of the 10 tracks the mood is not so much sombre as reflective. Sean Guthrie THE HERALD SCOTLAND Death and its subsequent impact on the living has always been a subject of great interest and inspiration in music, making for brilliant fugues and beautiful requiems, and maybe the occasional emo song. It’s more rare, however, that the morbid, the macabre, the funereal, constitutes an entire project and influences its every move. Lydia Lunch, an ordained reverend in the Universal Life Church (among other things), has taken a lifelong fascination with the funeral arts and transformed it into a “fully operational funeral collective/service,” otherwise known as the band she now fronts, called, Family In Mourning. Lunch is joined by Dahm Majuri Cipolla, Ben Lord, and David Lackner to create immersive, melodic eulogies in which the living can take solace and look forward to an afterlife. It’s a beautiful art. Featuring Lydia Lunch, an early No Wave pioneer and purveyor of all things noisey and anti-commercial, this debut LP is literally labeled as songs for the deceased or those in mourning by members who refer to themselves as a funeral collective (rumor has it an undertaker, funeral director and psychic advisor make up the band, and Lynch is an ordained reverend of the Universal Life Church).
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The Royal Scotsman Synthetic Love Dream GALTTA-020 Three years after organizing an ensemble to record his album Synthetic Love Dream, Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist David Lackner is reviving that name for a new ensemble and an unusual concept, once again produced via his own Gallta imprint. For their debut, the new Synthetic Love Dream ensemble — with Adrian Knight, Max Zuckerman, and Derek Vockins — imagines L. Ron Hubbard on his flagship the Apollo, itself renamed after he acquired the boat as the HMS Royal Scotsman, “drinking rum and cokes and smoking cigarettes on the forward deck . . . feverishly writing decrees and memos, and throwing devout followers overboard to ‘purify’ them.” Review by Dwight Pavlovic / Decoder Magazine
The backstory to Brooklyn-based outfit Synthetic Love Dream's latest opus adds an interesting dimension to the hour-long set's material. HMS Royal Scotsman, you see, was the original name for the Apollo, the ship owned by Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard and upon which he spent days drinking, smoking, writing, and, apparently, throwing devout followers overboard to purify them. As the recording's two lengthy pieces play, it's easy to visualize the ship lazily drifting with Hubbard and company aboard, swilling cocktails and lolling about, especially when a field recording of ocean surf accompanies the musicians' playing, a recording, in fact, captured at Belleair Beach in Florida where the Apollo and its crew sailed. Performed by saxophonist David Lackner (tenor and soprano), pianist Adrian Knight, drummer Derek Vockins, and Max Zuckerman on guitar and bass, the half-hour title composition emits a rather narcotizing glow when waves of bluesy tenor sax, rippling pianos, and reverb-drenched guitar textures fill the air for minutes on end. That aforesaid field recording adds to the music's sundazed character, as does its metreless presentation; stylistically, one might describe the music as a rather cocktail-like, slow-burning mix of ambient, jazz, and blues that advances organically through different phases without ever deviating too dramatically from its originating style. As ripples of multi-layered sounds undulate slowly, Lackner plays with a kind of controlled ecstasy, his lead soloing supported throughout by Knight's Steinway L Baby Grand and Zuckerman's shimmering guitar chords. Expanded to a septet, the quartet featured on “The Royal Scotsman” (Lackner now on soprano) is augmented on the second setting, “On This Day,” by violist Genevieve Kammel-Morris, percussionist Mike Advenski, and, in the biggest change-up, soul and R&B singer Billy G. Robinson (BT Express, Apollo Theater). “On This Day” perpetuates the drowsy sprawl of the opener for its first nine minutes, after which a two-note bass riff announces a shift to a vocal-driven modal blues form. During the seventeen-minute sequence, Vockins grounds the track with a heavy pulse, Advenski adds colour using shakers and other instruments, and Lackner solos extensively, sometimes behind the vocal and sometimes alternating with it. Robinson's appealing croon enhances the material, though whatever particular meaning cryptic lines such as “It was one year from today / There was so much I needed to say” possess is up to the listener to decide. Things generally remain at a composed level for the majority of the performance, though Lackner's playing grows wilder as the piece approaches its fade-out. There's an appealingly relaxed feel to the playing that perhaps can be attributed, at least in part, to the recording process: both performances were laid down at Knight's then-residence in Brooklyn with the musicians recorded live within a large living room space. A few overdubs were done as well as a modest degree of editing, but in general what's heard on the release is what went down at the pianist's home on Lefferts Avenue in December 2014. July 2017 TEXTURA
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Remnants Anthony Vine GALTTA-019 You’re an idiot. It’s nothing you can help, I understand that. Youjust don’t have the vision that someone like Anthony Vine does. REMNANTS is a brilliant encapsulation of Vine’s collaboration with a variety of musicians, from soprano saxophonist David Lackner on the vast, twenty-minute opener “Duo” to the six-piece fourteen-minute piece “North.” These sounds are fully contemplated, fully realized, and the result is a modern classical/modern jazz/ambient slow burn that requires your undivided attention to fully suss the whole thing out. The tension inherent in the four tracks is almost unbearable, as Vine and cohorts stretch their sessions to the breaking point, and you’re left wondering, hoping, that they’ll resolve into something you can wrap your head around. But remember, you’re stupid, you’re an idiot! No resolution for you. And this is how it should be, your breathing and your circulation tied explicitly to REMNANTS. You’ll need an EKG machine to monitor whether you’re able to handle the deep, subtle changes Vine and crew hit you with throughout this tape. In fact, are you even breathing? Or is it Anthony Vine’s guitar doing the breathing for you? I wouldn’t open your eyes, you’re in an iron lung, and REMNANTS is guiding you toward the light. Go toward it. You have no purchase here on this plane of existence any longer. You’ve suggested, in your will, that your descendants should buy this tape, though, right? If not, I’ll tell em. --Ryan Masteller CASSETTE GODS
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On the Prowl Again Adrian Knight GALTTA-018 This Adrian Knight fella’s pulled it off. He’s got everything stacked against him, pretty much, from a stylistic perspective. Optics are straight from the Har Mar Superstar sleaze wallow, the all-in look, the feel, not giving any wiggle room for interpretation of whether he’s sending himself up or 100 percent serious. Yeah, Adrian Knight acts cool, but in a Doogie Howser kind of way, ill-fitting blazer over white mock turtleneck on the cover, khaki slacks, turn-of-the-1990s sunglasses. The cool rocked is of the junior-high variety. And weirdly – that’s OK. The music is a soft-rock/synth-pop hybrid, somewhere between Tears for Fears and Hall & Oates, but with a few Jens Lekman touches thrown into the mix as well. And here’s how Knight has accomplished something worthwhile – he sells this sound, this lifestyle, way better than he probably has a right to. (That’s where the Har Mar comparison comes in, not remotely in the music itself.) Normally, I’d look at this cassette and not give it a second thought, but it would be a mistake to do so. Yeah, it may seem like Knight’s a kid playing grown-up crooner to the lucky ladies in the audience, he pulls it off nicely. The ladies in the audience truly are lucky, because Adrian Knight gets them – he’s sensitive, and he’s oh-so-clearly a grownup. That’s the key. Be a grownup. - Ryan Masteller CASSETTE GODS
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Pictures of Lindsey Adrian Knight GALTTA-013 Synths glitter like lights off a disco ball on this, the single weirdest fucking tape of 2014, written by a guy named Adrian Knight. He’s a hep jazz cat, a part of that hep jazz cat scene David Lackner’s been hovering around for his Galtta label’s tape releases in New York. So as you might expect, the performances here are just fabulous, really tasty Rhodes and Wurlitzer work atop some clever but simply constructed electronic drums that set the vivacious vibe you get throughout this album. A lot of the tunes are just plain nice, like in a James Taylor sort of way (that’s good James Taylor, mind you), or reminiscent of Arthur Russell’s stuff with the Flying Hearts, where his love of country, disco, and rock ‘n’ roll all comfortably colluded in the 70s for pop song perfection. But Knight’s compositions are also cut with creepy interludes and often have pitch-shifted vocal hooks which gives this album a surreal, sometimes nauseating quality that plug it nicely into the modern tape weirdo scene as well. Lackner guests with some nice sax arrangements here, and there’s also a cameo from EVI champion John Swana to give some songs a flavor that’s pinker than Pepto. And for as smooth a number Knight most certainly seems to be, his lyrics sure paint the picture of someone who’s anything but: “Scaring All the Girls Away,” which closes the album, is a hilarious and humble spate of self-deprecation set to a flat-out sex-jam that also has me thinking this aligns with what folks like Scammers’ Phil Diamond are doing. The nerds have never been sexier than in 2014, ladies (and gentlemen), scoop these bachelors up while you can. TINY MIX TAPES / STRAUSS
Galtta has been a label I’ve long admired so I was thrilled to see their return with two new releases earlier this month. While I haven’t had time to fully digest either, this Adrian Knight album is a glorious mindfuck and I think I’m going to end up loving it. There’s a level of absurdity to Pictures Of Lindsay but these songs are so well-written and there’s a real Arto Lindsay (h/t Crawf) vibe happening that I can’t get enough of. Galtta continues to impress (and totally surprise) and we’re all better for it. Also don’t forget to check out the new David Lackner. BRAD ROSE / THE ISOLATARIUM
Easily the most-listened to tape I received in 2014 is one that I ended up calling “The single weirdest fucking tape of 2014” in a review earlier this year. What the hell was I talking about? In fact, there were few that were more obscenely normal this year in a lot of ways, which of course was what was so fucking weird about it. Knight's over-the-top arranging, here complete with saxophone and EVI appearances, screamed self-ridicule, especially when you consider the album is a concept record detailing Kinght's many failures in the land of love, the whole thing this completely jokey schmaltz-fest. But that schmaltz-fest is just so brilliantly composed, performed, and flat-out great, offering some of the catchiest moments of pop in 2014, melodies and themes I still find myself humming in my dreams. Everyone I've shown this to has said "Ariel Pink" to me, and that's fine I guess, although Adrian Knight is like 10000000x better. TOME TO THE WEATHER MACHINE
Synthetic Love Dream David Lackner GALTTA-012 Issued on his own Brooklyn-based Galtta Media imprint, David Lackner's Synthetic Love Dream comes armed with clarifying notes that might strike some as intimidating: “Two long-duration, just intonation compositions for sinewaves, saxophone, drums and tuned bass: each piece consists of a 6 pitch set with a 52 HZ root; all pitches are based off of simple ratios found naturally in the overtone series.” Confronted with such details, the listener unversed in just intonation might be surprised when he/she discovers that the forty-seven-minute recording is, in fact, an easy-on-the-ears and eminently pleasurable listen. If anything, the material might be more generally described—technical details notwithstanding—as long-form, blues-based instrumentals featuring Lackner's multi-layered tenor sax as the lead voice. Recorded and mixed by Martin Bisi in March 2014, Lackner's so-called “Meditations on Death and Love” were realized by the composer on saxophone and sinewaves, Adrian Knight on sinetone keyboard, tuned bassist Dominic Cipolla, drummer Derek Vockins, and lyricist-singer Lydia Lunch, who frames the opening piece with a memorable vocal performance. Though the sinetone keyboard is the first sound heard on “Synthetic Love Dream I,” the arrangement quickly blossoms with the addition of multi-layered sax, tuned bass, and Lynch's cracked voice. Her vocal delivery and cryptic lyrics situate us within David Lynch-styled territory (“I'm writing love letters to a dead man…”) for the opening three minutes, after which the vocal drops out and the focus shifts to Lackner's sax playing for the remainder of this “stagnant blues” until the singer returns for the coda (“I'm making love to his ghost…”). With Vockins' skeletal lurch providing a slow-motion impetus, Lackner wails with abandon, his bluesy phrases overlapping and echoing one another for minutes on end. In those passages where he lays out, the sinetone keyboard moves to the fore and consequently the just intonation character of the material becomes more evident. But even so, no heavy listening's required for the listener, even if the music is unusual. “Synthetic Love Dream II” presents a purely instrumental take on the piece that grants Lackner even more room to stretch out as an alto sax soloist. He certainly makes good on the opportunity, as evidenced by the way he digs into his endlessly spiraling patterns with a Coltrane-like obsessiveness. As stated, the music is unusual in the way it merges multiple forms—jazz, blues, and minimalism, among them—and the release itself is enigmatic (what should one make, for example, of the cover image, which shows a person's head wrapped in clear plastic?), though such qualities in no way argue against it. If anything, they make Synthetic Love Dream (issued in a run of 100 cassettes and 100 hand-numbered CDs) all the more appealing as a listening proposition. November 2014 TEXTURA
Is New York paying attention to David Lackner yet? His jazz-leaning Galtta label was a bit quieter than it has been in previous years, but that didn't stop the two releases he did put out from both being complete and total knockouts. Granted, Adrian Knight's neo-90s-sitcom jazz-pop tape was a glitzy show-stealer (more on that later...), but Lackner's compositions for this work, beautifully rendered in the cover artwork by his wife Gabrielle Muller, were just as delicately performed and positively oozed with... well, "cool" is close, but doesn't fully capture this one's hypnotic hums and fiery flicker, all set to the pace of something like 40 beats-per-minute. Two minimalist jazz pieces, smokey, inter-weaving tenor sax solos over the droning sidetone keyboard Knight lays down with astonishing poise, and 2014's most patient drummer ever-grooving into this record's black hole of sheer mood. Hey, Side A features some kick-ass vocals by Lydia Lunch, too. If you live in Brooklyn and haven't seen these cats perform yet, you're crazy and I kind of hate you a little. TOME TO THE WEATHER MACHINE
In the Well of Eternal Living and Dying David Lackner GALTTA-011 Having followed Galtta closely since David Lackner called go, I’ve been waiting for the label-manager and core player to press himself onto vinyl. The results are not what I expected. Consider Lackner’s C40 from 2011, ‘My Leader, the Baby is Dead’: proudly mechanical, melodic phrases and recorded speech are made inhuman yet ritualistic, such that the notion of ‘sci-fi psychosis’ feels appropriate for the synthetic stew of copulating tubes and lab-grown feelings. Conversely, the A-side-long title track for ‘In the Well of Eternal Living and Dying’ bustles like a tree of birds with the twittering of flutes and charming honk of sax; bright percussion, bulbous bass, and the taut tones of Rhodes piano layout an always ascending rhythm; all the while, group vocals sing lyrics that seemingly capture the most psychedelic moments of Murakami’s meditation on human scale, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle – all to the effect of a more jazzy, less angsty Joan of Arc. In the gaps of the anthem, instruments swirl in Kraut-rock crescendos – a commune of solos – echoing the jubilee of bands like Akron Family and the instrumentalists Anvil Salute. Big, vibrant, and hardly the weirdness we feel from Lackner’s previous work. Then you flip the thing over and the familiar weird washes over you. “Still Inside” captures what I know and love most of Lackner’s outfit, while at the same time dashing silly concerns that the record could not do this and more: fronted by a looping mew with Furby-like emotional appeal, modulated synthesizers and staticky drumming form a ledger onto which hubristic saxophone jives in mockery of the programmed instructions murmuring throughout. Wonderfully weird. Similarly, the bad trip “Send in the Clowns” layers more instruction over a relentless gabber beat with glib effects and quasi-abrasive guitar (?) sounds – similar to the satire of Kylie Minoise – yet still sounding strangely accomplished as a composition. The brutal assault on existence continues by bleeding through the subliminal “Regular People” into the finale “A Semiperfect Number:” reaching the level of sentience and aesthetic spasms of Oneohtrix Point Never’s most recent work, a wild combination of timbrel swatches, rhythmic patches, and vaguely meaningful signifiers squirm with a futurist’s sentimentality. Lackner keeps building, building, and once he perfects this new edition to the complex, there should be nothing but hits to follow. LP limited to 300 copies. ANIMAL PSI Smooth End Of Summer Swana, Price, Lackner GALTTA-010 What gall, to release something with a title like this one in May of all months. When we are all actually extremely excited about summer’s rise to mighty power in the wake of winter’s slow and gruesome demise. But anything from Galtta Media I will take, and so be it that it’s this totally bonkers, ambient-jazz tape from a trio of talent. This music came to exist over some distance; David Lackner played some noise/saxophone at a session in New York with Mark Price and recorded it. They squished, squashed, chopped, chiseled, charred and char-broiled that sax all down into a soupy stew of chordal-drone and added some beats. Then the two shipped the tapes over to veteran EVI-virtuoso John Swana’s studio in Philly to tickle the mix with his scalar prowess. And that’s it. That’s not it! There’s also baritone marching horn, MIDI keyboards and samplers, and a voice on this album too. Whatever you think all of that might sound like, it probably sounds a lot different. There’s no good way to prepare you for what is here. I want to say that it’s aggressive, but it’s not: These guys, in a tone that is dimly lit, cull cool neon purples and blues from the 80s, and supplant them gracefully onto the surface of Pluto. If there’s any kind of rhythm here (and there is), it’s not based on any Earthly notion of the concept. It’s an aural space where whistles occupy odd nooks, singing off as distant ghosts, and melodies are known to drift like the smoke off a clove cigarette. Add the beats, and you know you are in one hip, holographic zone. As much In a Silent Way as it is Selected Ambient Works vol. II and further is this tape, a snapshot of the future of jazz as we know it. Tiny Mixtapes // STRAUSS
fter a relatively brutal winter up north, here’s a pairing of albums to induce the onset of our latest summer: the first a few hairs of the dog, the second a wash of good vibes like wearing swimtrunks around town. United by the distinct sound of the electronic valve instrument (EVI) – a sonic hybrid of Moog and melodica – both albums feature a certain dusky surrealism full of optimism and ease. From the Galtta label, John Swana, Mark Price, & David Lackner celebrate a ‘Smooth End of Summer’: spread over 10 tracks, Swana and Lackner lay down a shady cover of impressionistic sketches with choice embellishments from Price. Saxophone and EVI interweave in a multidimensional mix of resonant swaths and glottal textures, a cozy reality as cavernous as a mushroom trip, and as strange a soundtrack as the most avantgarde films inexplicably dominating Saturday TV matinees. Hand-numbered to 125 copies. $7 from the label HERE. Recommended. ANIMAL PSI
Francis Jewel Don't Be Afraid of the Jungle The Phantom Family Halo GALTTA-009 The Phantom Family Halo is an experimental rock band from Louisville,KY. The Legend Of Black Six (2006) was the band’s first official release even though it was written and recorded primarily by Dominic Cipolla. Currently, The Phantom Family Halo is a four-piece band based in Brooklyn,NY. In 2011 the band was signed by Brooklyn based record label Knitting Factory Records and announced their plan to release two albums in 2012: a dark and a light album (source: KF). In February, the band released When I Fall Out and in November they released Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle. In their latest album the band has utilized a fair amount of grunge and post punk manners of playing as well as many elements of post–rock. These characteristics are especially evident in “Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle” which is the longest song on the album and probably the most abstract one. This song certainly falls into posts-rock category more than any other song on Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle. It got some intense drumming, changing melodies, heavy riffs and drones. Some songs such as “Strawberry Blues” have more of a 60s feel to them, with casual guitars, simpler melodies and laid-back vocals. ”This Moment in Heaven” and “A Man With a Twitch in his Cheek” are gloomy, with echoing vocals, softer riffs, slower and quieter drumming and many feedbacks and delays. Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle is dark and heavy but not in the way that overwhelms you. This ablum’s heaviness comes from its complexity and its intriguing and expansive sound. When I listen to Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle, I keep visualizing a ray of light traveling through the labyrinth of darkness, looking for an infinite escape. Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle is great album that shows The Phantom Family Halo’s many musical talents and their ability to take multiple directions and yet create a conceptual and diverse album that flows perfectly. It takes several listening sessions to really appreciate Francis Jewel Don’t Be Afraid of the Jungle for what it is, a great psychedelic journey into The Phantom Family Halo’s twisted world. I AM NOT A MUSICIAN
Lonely House Mark Przybylowski GALTTA-008 Mark Przybylowski is a Brooklyn multi-instrumentalist with musical cruses on ambient music, folk, and jazz. All these styles come together on the simple, quaint, and very delicate instrumental compositions that appear on his new Lonely House Cassette. The seven tracks here are extremely touching, managing to conjure a very powerful emotional energy–well, at least from me, anyway. THE NEEDLE DROP More insanely good music from the highly (and criminally) unknown jazz cassette label Galtta Media, this tape finds honcho David Lackner releasing a beautiful collection of classical- and folk-leaning balladry from the otherwise moderately well-known jazz bassist Mark Przybylowski. The house, grey skies, and bare tree branches on the cover have me longing for the cool winds of winter, though outside temperatures refuse to clock in anything lower than 90° (#FML). Still, the overall feel of the cassette does help to cool things off, at least mentally. Musically, Przybylowski evokes notions of impressionism with the pastel compositional strokes of masters like Erik Satie. Recorded with a single mic in an empty house over the course of a year, Lonely House features skeletal acoustic guitar, singing cellos, double bass, and the occasional vocal inflection. Ultimately, the tape is sold on its ability to break the heart with such an astoundingly soft touch, the airy quality of the tape imagining an armchair’s lulling rock, the withered, paper-soft skin of a grandmother’s brittle fingers, or the last leaf ever-threatening to fly headlong with the chilling winds. An old, sepia-toned photograph. A trembling memory. A devastating sadness. A warm, comforting blanket of beauty. Yeah, all that and probably a lot no writer could even attempt to describe properly. Find your adjectives: TINY MIXED TAPES ‘Lonely House’ marks a sharp, early turn for the Galtta label, their catalog having not yet reached double-digits. Still based in instrumental virtuosity, the tape by Mark Przybylowski diverges from the familiar jazz sounds of previous releases by utilizing stringed instruments alone, and then in a distinctly folk idiom familiar to Kottke and Fahey. Beyond the choice of strings (cello, bass, and guitar), it is the use of space and architecture – the title house, standing empty, utilized for its reverb – which makes the most radical break in concept compared to Galtta’s previous studio pieces, and which brings it back around to reunite with the instrumental novelties/innovations which distinguish each release. The space is both vital and subverted: the reflections of the house make the rich, bold sounds of each strum and pluck, but the house becomes abstract as each layer is recorded and edited together into one piece. That is, rather than present each stringed instrument in a solo piece, and thereby contextualizing the space in the real-time of a “single take” (real or faked), two and sometimes all three of the instruments appear together, overlapping sounds from different moments into one, achieving not just impossible harmonics, but bringing with all the artifacts of each moment and imposing them into one space of the song. This neo-classicism likens the sound to prime Johann Johannsson and Peter Broderick in songs like “Sunday”, which by this process juxtaposes multiple tones across these multiple spaces, materializing the structure of the house through activity. Perhaps the only thing close to uni-dimensional is the theme of the tape – relentlessly melancholy, with titles like “Slow Winter”, “Lamentation”, “The Pain” – but this is not to say flat or uninteresting: the vocals which appear on “Blank Walls” are subdued but youthful, the guitar perky and waltzing across the floors and natural light that cello chords bring. Even the coda, “Rejoice,” reverses this formula only slightly, lacking what would otherwise pass as joy but isolating well those strains of optimism which pass quietly through these seven tracks. Professional cassettes come in heavy cards with art by Przybylowski’s grandfather John Carl Bulthuis, hand-numbered to 200. ANIMAL PSI |
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Abohm John Swana GALTTA-007 BY CRAWFORD PHILLEO » Jazz just got back from the future As far as jazz tape labels go... there aren't very many. Currently, there is really only one that I know of, and it's called Galtta Media, a tiny imprint run by a certified jazz geek/saxophonist named David Lackner who is currently based in New York after starting the label some time ago in Philadelphia. Jazz trumpet veteran John Swana carries the byline for Abohm, one of the label's latest entries, and it is... well, it's pretty weird. In fact, Abohm is something of a monster. But it's also a cute and friendly monster. A thing of magnanimous and intimidating presence that shrinks itself down into something else entirely. Something tame, tempered and pretty fun when you actually sit down and get to know it. ‘Abohm’ is an immense collection of 35 vignettes over 70 minutes, furthering the utterly unique sound of John Swana’s EVI (electronic valve instrument)- and trumpet-heavy slogans, as microscopic and atomized as the title unit. Somewhere between Coil’s ‘Themes from Hellraiser’ and the IDM-jazz of Ui, Swana’s gems are Blade Runner sonatas for automatons, haunted by AI like the entirely electronic score from ‘Paprika’, with a precocious DIY evoking the animated slackerdom of Aeon Flux and the Muzak of Duckman. Swaying, scaling ringtones over sequined beats; twisted arpeggios, MIDI-breakbeats, synthesized Theremins, and clipped-not-glitched horn solos; squirrely voices and phantom jingles; a mythical retroactive sci-fi through and through. Edition of 100 hand-numbered tapes, with art by James Ulmer. ANIMAL PSI |
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En Nuestros Viajes Matt Davis/ Javier Reséndiz GALTTA-006 I am not really a Jazz music fan (Actually you could call most jazz fans I know fanatics, cause they are really into it and are extremely emotional about it and take criticism as if it is a personal offense). Since I have started reviewing music on Lofiles exactly 3 years ago, I have published 1400 posts, and I think only 5 of which were about jazz music. Sometimes, all that knowledge these Jazz cats do have is too much for me to grasp, the ignorant peasant I am. But why do I exhaust you with the long intro. This is the extremely rare occasion where I Actually wanted you listen to this Jazz record I like, even if you are not a jazz fan/atic. Its called ‘EN NUESTROS VIAJES’, (released 6 months ago) and this is a dialogue between 2 very talented musicians, (I called it a dialogue cause judging by the way this record sounds they really listen and respect one another). (review by Shlomo Sonnenfeld for LOFILES) |
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My Leader, the Baby is Dead David Lackner GALTTA-005 Another from David Lackner and his Galtta label, this time a solo attribution (though lots of friends came along for the recording). The C40 ‘My Leader, the Baby is Dead’ is a combination of Lackner’s staticky transmission of saxophone, broadcast snippets, and synthesizers. Intro’d with the appropriately-titled march “Processional,” Lackner scales over the thin clasp of hydraulic percussion sounds, the performance is laid over a rhythm which never breaks, but rather ebbs and flows like a sizzle from wall to wall. Organ sounds mutate throughout the life of the tape, morphing eventually into the psychedelic belch of Silver Apples-type keyboard madness on closer “Reprise”. In between, these sounds come wedded to verses of sappy sentimentality effaced in renditions of “Oh Danny Boy” (itself a microcosm of deliveries, from the sanguine to saturnine), duets of Stereolab-like monotone (another apt tag, “In the Lab, In the Grid”), and the MIDI-tinged sounds of Japanese credit reel allegories (“Seventeen”). Though not the strongest single track of the lot, “We Give Our Lives to the Purpose” is perhaps the defining moment of the tape, working in wild synthesizer strains among forceful sax drones, a machined beat, and the title chanted ala the cosmic-weird of later Cerberus Shoal. Somehow less-strange than the sum of its parts, Lackner’s latest retains a certain dignity which only comes from the awe-full suspicion that I-the-listener simply does not know what is going on. Hand-numbered to 100 copies with heavy J-cards and pro-pressed tapes. Also included is the zine ‘Material Morality’ by Galtta resident artist Gabrielle Muller. A glossy, thick-stock booklet (18 pages) bound by string, the zine is a remix of Muller’s previous contributions to the Galtta catalog plus some photography and plundered nuggets. For the average consumer, this is a vital supplement, as it archives Muller’s collaboration with the label at this early stage, her images always at risk to outdo the music inside. Yet the inclusion of the booklet with this particular Lackner release feels funny, as the book stands alone or with all the releases it’s inspired, and seems to have little on the particulars of ‘My Leader’. Nevertheless: quite the bonus. Recommended. (Galtta cassette and zine, $7 HERE) (review by ANIMAL PSI) |
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Symbiosis Syndicate Symbiosis Syndicate GALTTA-004 In contrast, the five-player Symbiosis Syndicate (with whom Swana plays) is an exceedingly traditional meeting of the minds. Not exactly a quintet, the group is lead by Steve Giordano and appears across these five tracks in three different variations of 3 and 4 players. Sourced from drums, bass, piano, trumpet, and the electronic valve instrument featured on Swana’s side above, the group take a measured approach to their improvisation – “cooperative” might be a better term - observing each other as players clearly well-versed in their respective instruments, leading to solid, if too smooth playing, but regularly emerging with some spectacular accidents. For all intents and purposes a work of dark ambient electronics, “Full Moon” creaks and whistles with creepy sustains and exaggerated effects, a harmonic resonance building which really challenges the ear to distinguish synthetic frequencies from humanoid voices. The nocturnal “Meteor Shower” is a fitting sequel, as it shifts the atmosphere slightly with the contoured inclusion of piano song and drum kit, a sort of musicological signifier for the referent of its naturalistic predecessor. Outro “Silver Apples” is a necessary homage, as well as a codex for the subtleties of the album thus far, where the science fiction we’ve been listening to appears less terrifying and more psychedelic: watered by a rainstick and fed by a brightening scale shared by synth and piano, the brief track crests over the dash like horizon and settles the mass of this C40 back down to the ground. Though never having strayed as far as its namesake, the track does service to the anti-pop seriousness of the album and the calculated risks it takes. Pro-pressed cassettes come with pro, color J-cards, hand-numbered to 100. With cover art by Gabrielle Muller. (review by ANIMAL PSI) |
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Struttin' Around With... David Lackner and John Swana GALTTA-001 While I still have yet to discuss David Lackner's awesome solo tape, it's high time I get to this split he did with John Swana which is also pretty awesome in its own right. Galtta Media is an interesting label as it's got at least one foot planted pretty firmly in the jazz-world, and another planted in a place a little more mysterious. (Not to mention the fact that it's a jazz tape label, that's pretty dang unique) What's most interesting to me is, while I call it an experimental jazz label, I'd say no one would ever classify this as a free jazz label--at least not based on the material it has released so far. Often "experimental" and "free" go hand in hand, not the case here. Both Lackner's and Swana's work here tend to be pretty highly structured and melodically driven with an improvisational component. While working from a jazz framework, both Lackner and Swana create interesting and sometimes, in Lackner's case, ridiculously catchy compositions. By bringing boutique cassette culture to jazz with his new label Galtta, David Lackner in turn brings jazz to cassette culture. With a cadre of stalwart players centered around the Philadelphia area, the label collects a gamut from traditional to experimental idioms, and ushers these in through joint affinities with the ambient, cosmic, and deconstructive sound design precepts which dominate the cassette scene (more, Lackner has previously crossed-over with a tape on Peasant Magik). Case in point, Lackner’s own split with John Swana constitutes Gallta number one, and eases us into the instrumentality of both (Swana a trumpeter, Lackner a saxophonist) through jazz-minded structures punched into broader plates which emphasize less virtuosic playing than a total music. This relies heavily on the impression of sound itself (and not the authority of the soundmaker) which is taken for granted in the philosophy of experimental music: despite his specialty, Swana’s side contains no trumpet, but at its most vocal, his electronic compositions bring the trumpet-ness of a fusion bop sound to pieces like “Major Man”, in sum reminiscent of the jazzy Chicago postrock of Tortoise and The Aluminum Group. Never adopting a true drone, Swana’s music frequently settles into ornate patterns for solid stretches in order to present each detail in plain sight, as the downbeat track “Thyme” features a complex of percussive beads and brief squiggles tied to a rich, hypnotic rhythm. With a similar effect, Lackner works in what he calls “repeater soundscapes”, layering discretely-wonderful loops of sax, synthesizer, radio noise, percussion, and so on over one another to achieve a dynamic tension which would be simple polyphony without such distinct character. Though the entire side is something to behold, the best example is “Study in Clutter”, which weaves several lines including chorus, hand clap rhythms, and Moogish sequencer into a flute song of far eastern logic, much resembling the joyous sinophile compositions of Damon Albarn for ‘Monkey: Journey to the West’. Though using this repeater model, Lackner doesn’t settle for a formula, but uses this aesthetic device to highlight and complicate the structures he’s working with, at times emphasizing a solo instrument, but always folding this back into the community of sounds to create a swift and dynamic listen. Pro-pressed cassettes come with pro, color J-cards, hand-numbered to 200. Highly recommended. (review by ANIMAL PSI) I’m not really a jazz guy, so when the new GALTTA tape label sent me the first batch of four releases, I was a little hesitant. But every once in a while something special comes along and shows me what’s up, like some of the Galtta tapes. Some of them were more straight jazz than the rest, but GALTTA-001, the split with David Lackner and JOHN SWANA was definitely weird enough for me to dig into and share with all yous. |