So as we're still sitting here staring at our screens, chowing down on the latest um cha, um cha which must mean it's time for our weekly review round up of the long players that have dropped through our virtual and not-so-virtual doors this week.
Think we've got it wrong? Probaby we've already started a spat last week (read more below).
By all means sling us abuse in the comments below...
Mr G - Personal Momentz LP
Mr G, the seventh letter of the Mister Men alphabet I believe, has been playing whilst I sit in the office partly drunk, partly hungover and entirely devoid of intelligent life.
You can brush it under the rug all you like, War Of The Worlds happened and we should acknowledge that fact. IT CANNOT UNHAPPEN!
There's an awful lot of bass drum in this, I can feel the backs of my eyes. My desk is really messy today, I should do something about that. Especially the thai food container, the smell was pleasant at first but now I'm feeling dizzy.
Please stop the bass. Please.
This is what it is. No nonsense techno that thuds along on it’s tightly demarcated rails. On the positive, it’s crisp like good bacon. The hats and snares are dry ticks partitioning the rhythm into chunks of bass. The synth stab and coil, and the cleanliness of the production lends G a swing all of his own. Any one of the tracks would probably work as a standalone club joint. On the bad side, the sum of these 12 tracks parts does not an album make. There’s no real dynamic, and no real stand out killer. G reckons he wrote the album in 10 days, and I can‘t help thinking he might have been better off just keeping on writing til he got a few stronger beats in there.
Yup, some cracking tracks on here. It’s more a collection of 12”s with b-sides than an album. But there’s some belters on here nonetheless. Big up Mr G!
Psych for Sore Eyes 2 - Sonic Cathedral
Psych is a funny word. It rhymes with bike and is only an opath away from being something utterly different.
Aren't words brilliant? There are just so many of them, I mean, I could literally choose to write 50 random words and none of them would be the same. And that's what I've done.
Worthwhile inorganic starfishes conversancy stellarator politesse systemizer misarticulate unbustling temperate Ketogenesis chromophil hank nervelessness christless abbeystede pursuivant gradual ascidian welshwoman conserver Oidium unliveableness interquarrelling syria estival liger allometric ephorate barth spirula transsensual Slavophil montaigne firewater reviewless unmuffle diorite exodermal pulleyless lodging podgoritsa panic underspreading journalistically prelim unhelping week superfecundity papalized thick superincomprehensibleness.
And that's my review.
Psyche is all the rage so there’s only so long before you hear it gussied up and blasting through the Top Shop tannoy. Thankfully this compilation is far too weird for any of that nonsense - weird, and whimsical and really rather good. It draws as much from the awkward chords and ragged structures of post punk as it does any cosmic hippy ideal, and is all the better for it. The laconic, brown hazed Psychic Ills track is my current favourite, but with 6 tracks, there’s not a duffer on there.
Superb stuff from Sonic Cathedral as ever. 6 excelllent tracks. Something to listen to over and over again.
Pulse Emitter - Equinox
I believe Equinox is what Chief Wiggum tries to persuade Lisa a rabbit is in that Simpsons episode where you get a look at the future. As much as I like it, I don't like that they have inconsistent flash-forwards - I mean, Lisa is president in some whilst she's married to Milhouse in others.
Talk about a letdown!
Some of the latest episodes have been alright, Homer is still a great character and the Family Guy crossover was pretty decent. They'll never beat the old stuff though.
Monorail. Monorail! MONORAIL!!
Mono - d'oh!
It was Andy in the office what recommended us listening to Pulse Emitter after extending our weekly search for beatless long players. Personally I find this far more engaging than last week's Maro Union.
We got a kicking last week for not knowing that "on 16 October 2011 Marco Union created an eight minute track, titled "Weightless", in collaboration with the British Academy of Sound Therapy.
According to scientists at the Mindlab institution (a commercial 'neuromarketing' company) it induced a 65% reduction in overall anxiety and brought test subjects' resting pulse rates to 35% of their usual resting rates. The song features guitar, piano and manipulated field recordings. It is punctuated throughout by low tones that supposedly induce a trance-like state. This piece propelled the band into the media spotlight and news reports, and was reported in newspapers worldwide. In November 2011, Marconi Union were featured in Time magazine's list of Inventors of the Year, for writing and recording "Weightless"."
Where's your comeback to that Ian?
Ian Says: Well, Im kinda more of a fan of stuff that gets my pulse racing. So that's made me switch from being vaguely uninterested in the Marconi Union album, to actively not wanting to hear it. At least its impressed 'a commercial nearomarketing company.'
Wi: Anyway, back to Pulse Emitter:
"Under the city, deep within the solid rock and foundation, wayfaring messengers spring cosmic illumination. This is no chance encounter, but a utopian refuge where we can touch the frosty blue flames with our finger-tips."
Utopian refuge sums it up for me. I've finally got a long enough cable for my speakers - that's how exciting things are at the moment - and as I write this it's emitting from the speakersm not the headphones or shitty laptop speakers. I think I've found my utopian refuge. Mind you a good pair of headphones and a deserted city would be another perfect setting to listen to this too.
I think this is meant to remind me of being all pagan and seeing in the Equinox. The last time I did so was about 10 years ago. I went to the stone circle in Avebury with a bunch of hippy-punks and took a load of speed, then dropped some acid and hoofed some K. I managed to time it so the acid/K come up coincided perfectly with the speed come down and subsequently had the worst experience of my short, stupid life. I spent the days after in a sheer, wall-less pit of despair, the dimensions of which I could only guess at by the malice I felt crushing my soul. Pulse Emitter's long, twee wibbly jaunt through nothing doesn't really remind me of that sensation, for which I'm grateful.
Want us to review an album?
Send us abuse to firstname.lastname@example.org