Collecting B-sides, singles, re-edits, and new material, GOAT‘s Headsoupis a great release for fans of the band and fans of wild psychedelic rock.
“The Sun the Moon,” for example was the B-side to the “Goatman” single. The alternate version of “Stonegoat” sounds thicker than the original, making it even more mind-altering. “Dreambuilding” is also chock-full of distorted guitars, and the wild hand percussion on it is a perfect yang to the guitars’ yin. “Dig My Grave” tones down the fuzz so it can add more reverb.
The re-edit of “It’s Time for Fun” almost becomes a krautrock track with its electro-beats and pulsing synthesizers. “Relax” is a loud, yet hypnotizing instrumental. The alternate take of “Union of Mind and Soul” is just as bouncy as the original. “The Snake of Addis Ababa” could probably charm a cobra out of a wicker basket with its entrancing guitar work and rhythm.
“Goatfizz” is another cool instrumental, reminding me of late 1970s / early 1980s background jazz you’d hear in a hotel lobby or on an obscure late night cable TV channel. The new edit of “Let It Burn” is as heavy as a Black Sabbath B-side. “Friday Pt. 1” is soft and mellow to balance out the previous track, with a soulful saxophone solo to boot. “Fill My Mouth” is, as you might imagine from the title, the naughtiest song GOAT has written – and one of their funkiest as well. I mean, holy crap, the flute breakdown on it alone is worth the price of admission. “Fill My Mouth” and the following track, the sexy, psychedelic “Queen of the Underground” were GOAT’s first new tracks in several years, and showed they were still at the top of their game.
Let’s hope there’s more new stuff to come, because Headsoup only made us GOAT fans hungrier.
Recorded in Camden’s Electric Ballroom in London on July 27, 2013, GOAT‘s Live Ballroom Ritual is a ripping album that captures the band of Swedish voodoo psych-rockers blowing people’s minds and taking them to other planes of existence.
The show starts simply enough, with the calm, soothing guitar strumming on “Dirabi” for over three minutes before the drums and hand percussion come in to let everyone know that they’re in for a mystical journey. “Golden Dawn” continues this levitation into some kind of sacred space between funk and psychedelia. “People get ready under the rainbow,” the ladies of GOAT sing on “Disco Fever” – a swirling, pulsing track that probably had the whole place bouncing and sweating after just three songs in the set.
“Stonegoat” was their new single at the time, and it’s a stomper that contrasts well with the mellower (but no less funkier, especially with its ripping saxpohone solo) “Let It Bleed.” The instrumental “Dreambuilding” is absolutely hypnotic, leading us to the sweaty, heavy “Run to Your Mama” that I’m sure floored the one thousand-plus fans in the audience.
Three “goat songs” follow: The somehow heavier “Goathead,” with its percussive bass,” the trance (and possibly hallucination)-inducing “Goatman, and “Goatlord” – a slow sizzler that sets the table for the eleven-minute “Det som aldrig förändras – Kristallen den fina.” It’s a massive track that fills whichever space in which you hear it. Every part of it crushes. The performance ends with the massively fuzzy “The Sun the Moon,” combining chants with frenetic drumming and sawmill guitars.
I consider myself lucky to have seen GOAT live here in the United States. I hope they will return soon. They are doing some European shows these days, but their shows here have become somewhat legendary, like this stunning performance.
This fun compilation released in the US by Runt Records (and originally in Italy by Abraxas) showcases the work of Francesco De Masi, Bruno Nicolai, Lallo Gori, Mario Migliari, and Vassil Kojucharov. The first three composers make up most of the compilation, with Migliari and Kojucharov only getting one track each on the album.
The sixteen tracks span films ranging from many of the Sartana franchise including Nicolai’s gorgeous title tracks to C’e’ Sartana…Vendi la Pistola e Comprati La Bara! (There is Sartana…Sell the Pistol and Buy a Coffin!) and Buon Funerale Amigos…Paga Sartana (part 1) (Have a Good Funeral, Friends…Sartana Will Pay). “Stranger,” with its bold vocals, is a fun track.
Many of the DeMasi pieces are collaborations with famous Italian guitarist and composter Alessandro Alessandroni, whose fine guitar work is all over tracks like “Monetero’s Plan” and “Vento e Whisky” (which has a great horn section that sounds like it wandered from the set of an Italian crime thriller to play on the score for Stranger).
Migliardi’s title track for Prega il Morto e Ammazza il Vivo (Pray for the Dead and Shoot the Living) sizzles like a rattlesnake on a warm rock. Nicolai’s title track for Gil Fumavano le Colt…Lo Chiamavano Campsanto (They Call Him Cemetery) is a classic with its expert whistling, symphonic strings, hollow-body guitar work, and vocal chorus all mixing together for a perfect blend. The vocals on DeMasi’s “Gold” are so bold they’re almost over the top and ridiculous, but they hold back just enough to make them amazing in their own right. His title track for 1963’s Il Segno del Coyote (The Sign of the Coyote) could fit on practically any John Ford film.
It’s a collection that’s over too soon, even with sixteen tracks on it, and a good reminder that Ennio Morricone (God rest his soul.) wasn’t the only formidable composer of spaghetti western soundtracks.
The final day of Levitation France (June 05th) had the coolest weather, but there was no rain. The predicted thunderstorms all came overnight, and most of the rain came in the afternoon on Saturday, so we never had to wear our ponchos. The bands we saw that day were among the most varied in musical styles.
First up were the Japanese trio Kuunatic, who play music I can best describe as psychedelic traditional Shinto music mixed with some doom metal bass. It was their first time playing in France, so that made their set a little more special. Everyone in the crowd was intrigued by them at first and loving them by the end of their set.
Kuunatic getting us into a different headspace.
We took a lunch break (Yay, focaccia!) and then came back to the Elevation Stage to see Frankie and the Witch Fingers. My girlfriend hadn’t seen them before, and this would be the fourth time I had. To say their set was powerful would be a massive understatement. They destroyed that stage. The crowd was absolutely bonkers by the end of their set. Many, it seemed, had no idea what was in store for them and were almost blasted into shock not even halfway through their show. My girlfriend described them as follows: “They play like their hair is on fire.”
Frankie and the Witch Fingers melting faces.
Pretty much everyone did an about-face after their set to watch The Brian Jonestown Massacre, who played a good mix of new and classic material. I lost count of how many times some of them switch instruments. Audience members were calling for songs, or trying to have loud conversations with band leader Anton Newcombe in-between songs. Newcombe’s banter with the crowd was fun, especially after one man yelled, “I need more drugs!”, and Newcombe replied, “You don’t need more drugs. You need better drugs. If you had better drugs, you wouldn’t be yelling. You’d be mellowed out.” They sounded great. Top marks go to whomever engineered their set.
The Brian Jonestown Massacre with their requested “drug lights, not drug bust lights.”
The day, and the festival, ended with British post-bunkers Lumer playing a hard, rocking set. They’d been hanging out at the festival most of the weekend, and they looked like they were on a mission, possibly to rescue a skyscraper full of hostages or even some ducklings that had fallen through a sewer grate, every time I saw them walking somewhere. They all had this intense focus and looked ready to either fight or share a pint with you depending on the circumstances. Their live set embodied this the entire time.
Lumer illuminating the evening.
Afterwards, we got on the first of only two paid shuttle buses leaving the festival to go back to downtown Angers. This bus nearly sideswiped a road sign along the Angers streets, to the point where we had to yell for the driver to stop as he attempted to make a turn. He backed up and went through a number of additional one-way streets to get back on track to the downtown city center…where he proceeded to sideswipe two parking poles while attempting to make another tight turn. The wreck caused the glass in the rear exit doors to burst, and it appeared that the bus was stuck on the poles and unable to move. One festival-goer, with a beer still in hand, managed to remove the poles from the sidewalk so the us could make the turn. Only a third of us got back on the bus, either to return to a campground (the only other stop it was scheduled to make) or, like us, to see how this crazy trip would end. Thankfully, it ended with us at the city center without further incident.
The post-festival transportation is my only complaint about Levitation France. There were plenty of buses going to La Chabada, but only three returning on Friday and Saturday nights and only two on Sunday night. Plus, the odds of finding an Uber driver late night in Angers are slim to none. I don’t know if the festival can convince Angers to have more late buses (especially for those who can’t or don’t intend to stay for the whole evening – most of the buses didn’t arrive until the final act was done each night) next year, but that would be a great upgrade to an otherwise fun festival.
Next year will be the tenth anniversary of Levitation France, so the lineup will surely be one to behold. Start brushing up your Français now, and get ready for Levitation Austin on Halloween weekend!
I scored this lovely and bargain-priced (twenty bucks!) mini-set of five classic albums by bossa nova queen Astrud Gilberto while on a late winter trip to California. The set covers records released by Gilberto (Yes, the first wife of Brazilian composer João Gilberto and stepmother to Bebel Gilberto.) from 1965 to 1969. In particular, they are her first (The Astrud Gilberto Album – 1965), third (Look to the Rainbow – 1966), fourth (A Certain Smile, A Certain Sadness – 1966), sixth (Windy – 1968), and seventh (I Haven’t Got Anything Better to Do – 1969) records, and all of them are delightful.
The first album pairs her with the legendary Antonio Carlos Jobim, who wrote her famous hit “The Girl from Ipanema.” Like that song (which is not on this record, but rather on the other classic Getz / Gilberto), this album is an instant mood-changer. Starting with “Once I Loved,” and Gilberto singing that “love is the saddest thing when it goes away,” everything around you adapts to her voice. Her duo with Jobim on “Agua De Beber” is another song that brings a smile to your face, and Joao Donato‘s piano on it is a delight while Jobim’s subtle guitar strumming hits harder than most metal records. Gilberto sings about the nerves associated with new love on “And Roses and Roses” while snappy percussion sizzles and soothes behind her. “How Insensitive” is heart-breaking yet alluring. “Dindi” is a bossa nova standard, and Gilberto does a great version of it here.
Look to the Rainbow is full of stunning arrangements by Gil Evans. Opener “Berimbou” would fit into a 1960’s Bond film with its lush horn section and exotic strings. The horns on “Fervo” might inspire a wild party in the streets. “Maria Quiet” is, I’m sure, being played in a Tiki bar somewhere right now. “Bim Bom” is peppy and bouncy, sure to flood a dance floor in that Tiki bar. “El Preciso Aprender a Ser So (Learn to Live Alone)” is one of those songs Gilberto pulls off so well – longing and yearning mixed with Zen-like detachment.
A Certain Smile, A Certain Sadness teams Gilberto with the Walter Wanderley Trio. Wanderley was an organ maestro who played on “The Girl from Ipanema,” and his band (Jose Marino – bass, Bobby Rosengarden – percussion, Claudio Slon – drums) are all sharp pros. The first two tracks are the double title tracks and both are bossa nova lounge classics. Wanderley’s organ riffs on “Nega” are the sounds of a hundred drive-in intermission countdowns, and Gilberto’s playful vocals on it are a delight. “So Nice (Summer Samba)” is another bossa nova classic, and it’s great to hear Wanderley strut his stuff on it while Rosengarden adds some spicy beats Any melancholy you might be feeling is wiped out by “Goodbye Sadness (Tristeza).” If the closer, “It’s a Lovely Day Today,” doesn’t cheer you up, I don’t know what will.
Windy was cut while Gilberto was living in Philadelphia and raising her and João’s son, Marcelo (with whom she shares vocals on “The Bare Necessities”). A lot of the songs are the album are big and bold, suitable for a Las Vegas nightclub or your party’s hi-fi. Opening track “Dreamy” is a perfect example with its lively brass section. “Never My Love” exudes soft 1960s psychedelia. She nails the title track (a cover of the classic hit by The Association), taking on the identity of the mysterious, playful woman as her own. Her cover of The Beatles‘ “In My Life” is also lovely.
According to the liner notes, Gilberto calls I Haven’t Got Anything Better to Do her “fireplace album.” She wanted to make a record that moved away from the aggressive sounds dominating the 1969 airwaves and could be listened to while curled up next to a fire. She did it. “He’s got a problem if he thinks I need him,” she sings on the opening title track. She had divorced João by this point, so you can’t help imagining her singing that in his direction. The soft, subtle horns on “Wailing of the Willow” mix perfectly with Gilberto’s haunting voice. “The Sea Is My Soil (I Remember When)” again makes you wonder why Gilberto never sang the theme to a Bond film. Everyone can relate to “World Stop Turning” at one point or another as Gilberto wishes time would stop so she could stay in bed with her husband just a bit longer.
It’s a wonderful collection, and a great way to be introduced to her music and bossa nova.
Saajtak (pronounced: sahje-talk)—based in Detroit (Jonathan Barahal Taylor, Ben Willis, Simon Alexander-Adams) and Brooklyn (Alex Koi)—today announced their debut album, For the Makers, out June 3, 2022 via American Dreams.
On anthemic lead track “Big Exit,” Koi treats her words like playthings, stretching syllables past semantics, vocal lines in conversation with one another. Alexander-Adams’ electronics quiver, and Taylor’s clattering kit seems to deconstruct the rhythm it builds, before the song unspools into a lush, minimal coda just before the 4-minute mark. Watch the video for “Big Exit” here.
Saajtak makes futuristic music that synthesizes a wide range of genres—often in ways that seem to clash against each other, always in service to the song. The band has quietly made music in Detroit for the better part of a decade, collaborating with members of clipping. and sharing bills with Xiu Xiu, Ava Mendoza and Greg Fox. Koi sings and writes lyrics; Taylor plays drums, Willis bass; Alexander-Adams contributes keyboard and electronics. But to individuate their contributions does the music a disservice. Saajtak sounds, feels, like a living, breathing organism, for which recordings don’t present definitive documents as much as they reflect songs at given points in their lives. For the Makers, the band’s first album, brims with ideas, treating their shape-shifting compositions with a high depth of field.
Saajtak’s compositions are rooted in collective improvisation; their first release, spectral [ drips ], collects several free improvisations. The band was recording music live for a full-length debut when the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic pressed pause on their principal way of making music. In response, the band began working on new music remotely, in increments of eight days. Every two days, members would trade songs, gradually sculpting them into final iterations. Willis recalls putting on his headphones as he began recording bass: “The layers that Alex, Simon, and Jon had begun to craft engulfed me like a wave, filling me. I was suddenly surrounded by my friends.” Over time, the music organically cohered into an album, bringing together influences as wide-ranging as Richard Davis, Meredith Monk and Melvins. Koi’s lyrics balance narrative and enigma, incorporating several perspectives within a song in an approach she calls polyphonic narrative. “I like to imagine how personas might converse in worlds with varying levels of familiarity and skewness,” she explains. “What we receive are relationships that flow between splintery and harmonious, and that contain both ecstasy and affliction. There’s a big thrill in all this, when nothing can be apathetic.”
Throughout, the album mixes the organic and synthetic. Even as motifs, images and lyrics recur, the music thrums with energy, opening into new worlds. This, perhaps, is part of the point: to illustrate an escape, to be one. To Alexander-Adams, For the Makers was “as much a healing practice as it was a means to create”; to Willis, it “feels like a year-improvisation, for which the music never stopped the whole time.” Says Taylor, “it represents our collective voice in the deepest sense: an amalgamation of our individual vulnerabilities, imaginations, ambitions, and love for each other.” The album is testament to the restless creativity powering Saajtak’s engine, and the importance of cultivating creativity, trust and community.
Mdou Moctar returns to once again shred on guitar, spread the love and joy of Tuareg music, and spread the word of struggles in his Algerian homeland on Afrique Victime.
Opening track “Chismiten” bursts with so much energy that any sound system, no matter how hi-fi, can barely contain it. Moctar’s guitar swirls around you like a dust devil that eventually grows strong enough to lift you off the ground. He adds a cool echo effect to his guitar on “Taliat,” and the group vocals are immediately uplifting.
“Ya Habibti” backs the mantra-like vocals with hand claps and hand percussion while Moctar plays slightly amped acoustic / electric chords. “Tala Tannam” is downright dreamy. “Asditke Akal” is a stunner with its psychedelic riffs reaching to the heavens. Moctar and his band then switch it up on “Layla,” which (thankfully) isn’t a cover of the vastly overrated Clapton tune, but rather an acoustic, hypnotic song you might hear around a desert fire.
The title track is a powerful one about the plight of women in Algeria (as noted by the album’s cover depicting a crying woman), with some of Moctar’s most soaring guitar work that stretches its mighty wings for over seven minutes. The closing track, “Bismilahi Atagah” is beautiful in its simplicity as Moctar and his bandmates sing what sounds like a song of praise for blessings received and ones to come.
This might be Moctar’s best album yet, and that’s saying something when you consider the first two were excellent in their own right.
Named after a studio space they built in Tamanrasset, Algeria, Imarhan‘s new album, Aboogi, instantly transports you to a different world where everything slows down, the tea is delicious, and you spend nights listening to music and dancing around a fire now and then.
Opener “Achinkad” sets this tone right away with its simple guitar chords, hand percussion and claps, and meditative vocals. “Derhan” builds on this theme of communal bliss. “Temet” (not to be confused with their 2018 album of the same name) is a haunting warm wind as the sun comes up on a desert cooled overnight. “Tindjatan” is a tale of a great battle in which many Tuaregs were killed. “Asof” is nothing but vocals, simple hand percussion, and guitar chords that drift into windswept dunes, and it’s lovely.
“Assossam” spins a tale of economic disparity in southern Algeria, all the while keeping some optimism with its beats and lively guitar work. The lyrics of “Taghadart” are ones of grief, but hope within that grief (i.e., “Please safeguard my trust from now until the end of time.”). “Laouni” is like a lazy stroll along the crest of a desert hill. It flows so well into “Imaslan N’Assouf” that it’s almost hypnotizing. I don’t have a translation of the lyrics for “Tamiditin,” but the guitar and vocal delivery on it makes it sound like Tuareg blues. The album ends with “Adar Newlan,” a song about the increase in youth imprisonment rates in the band’s native land and how these sentences affect families and communities.
Aboogi is a powerful record in its peaceful delivery. Imarhan have every right to rage and shred, but they decide to deliver prayers and meditations instead.
When I type “afrobeat” into my post here, my computer’s autocorrect feature changes it to “acrobat.” It makes a bit of sense, actually, because Ibibio Sound Machine combining Nigerian afrobeat with house music so well that they are like acrobats moving all around you with astounding skill on their 2019 album Doko Mien.
Opening track “I Need You to Be Sweet Like Sugar (Nnge Nte Suka)” sounds like a Curtis Mayfield track mixed with 64-bit video game blips. Eno Williams‘ soulful, powerful vocals grab you by the ears and don’t let go and Derrick McIntyre‘s bass roots down the whole thing. You think that’s funky? Wait until you hear “Wanna Come Down,” a track that mixes Max Grunhard‘s synths with his saxophone and Tony Hayden‘s trombone and Scott Baylis‘ trumpet so well that you’re not sure where one of the them ends and the other begins.
The title track (also known as “Tell Me”) could be an LCD Soundsystem cut if LCDSS were even funkier. “I Know That You’re Thinking About Me” brings in more soul smoothness to seduce you. “I Will Run” is a synthwave love song that makes you want to make out on the dance floor. “Just Go Forward (Ka I So)” is a call to action (“Just go forward, don’t look back!”) that everyone needs to hear – and follow.
“She Work Very Hard” has some of Alfred “Kari” Bannerman‘s most interesting guitar work on the record, sounding at times like he’s in a funk band, other times in a krautrock band, and other times like he’s in a shoegaze band. “Nyak Mien” is pure afrobeat joy. “Kuka” is even a bit psychedelic.
“Guess We Found a Way” is a trippy slow jam that, if you play it in the presence of a potential lover, you had better be prepared for something to happen. The album ends with “Basquiat” – a fittingly funky tribute to the funky artist who left us far too soon.
Today, Tuareg quintet Imarhan releases “Adar Newlan,” a collaboration with Gruff Rhys of Super Furry Animals and the third single off of their third studio album, Aboogi, out Friday, January 28 on City Slang. Imarhan and Rhys wrote and recorded the song together at Aboogi Studio, the band’s studio in Tamanrasset, Algeria. Sung in the musicians’ native languages of Tamasheq and Welsh, the song is about the universal value of kinship and more specifically highlights the struggles of the young people of Tamanrasset. The video for “Adar Newlan” was directed, written, and animated by Hugo and Rodolphe Jouxtel of Fantômes and produced by Ondine Benetier for La Blogothèque and Wedge. The song follows two previous singles, “Tamiditin (feat. Japonais)” and “Achinkad.”
Imarhan first met Rhys in London at an Africa Express event, organized by Damon Albarn. Rhys elaborates on their collaboration: “My time at Aboogi with Imarhan was unforgettable. We hid from the sun and drank hot strong tea in the orange tent within the studio’s outdoor compound and exchanged musical ideas. New friends singing in multiple languages; Tamasheq, Welsh, French, English, Arabic drifted on the air from the studio door into the yard. Songs seemed to flow and grow quickly and effortlessly in these conditions. Right where the city meets the mountains, and where you can glimpse both worlds, capped by the ceiling of their gigantic sky – without barely moving your head.“
The video depicts a man coming to listen to a group of Tuaregs who recall the legendary struggles of their ancestors as they sit by the fireside. Time passing has transformed the history into tales and legends, spawning many versions as tea is prepared. Story telling becomes dialogue and dialogue becomes lively debate. Imarhan says, “As we delve into their contrasting imaginations, the truth seems to slip like sand between our fingers…finally giving way to a common story, enriched by sharing and begging to be reinterpreted, again and again.”
Imarhan built Aboogi Studio themselves so that they could finally record on their home soil and provide the same resources to other artists in the Tamanrasset area. On the region, Rhys said, “A simple four meter walk to the studio then to document these ideas live and in the moment – [it was] the perfect way to record. To get to visit Tamanrasset in the first place, to receive the warmest welcome possible and to travel into the desert and witness all its beautiful glory by day and its infinite stars at night was life changing enough in itself, but that’s an entirely different story!” It seemed only natural to also call the resulting collection of songs Aboogi, a nod to the new collective space Imarhan created, as well as the historic resilience of their culture and people.
Aboogi also features collaborations with Sudanese singer Sulafa Elyas and Tinariwen’s Abdallah Ag Alhousseyni, solidifying Imarhan as a truly global group, united with their collaborators in a spirit of resistance and societal change. Following Imarhan’s exhilarating 2018 album Temet, Aboogi’s featherweight, festive music belies the band’s fierce sense of conviction and justice. These are the complexities that make Imarhan’s music so prescient – beauty and tranquility intermingle with strife and heartache, creating a dynamic view of life for those subjugated by over a century of colonialism and lopsided revolutions but blessed with extraordinary community, art and culture.
Imarhan are: Iyad Moussa Ben Abderahmane (aka Sadam), Tahar Khaldi, Hicham Bouhasse, Haiballah Akhamouk and Abdelkader Ourzig. Watch Video for “Achinkad”
