Amniotic’s Abstract Liquid Guitar with Vocal Textures

More sound art than commercial audio product, this album which Amniotic describes as “lo-fi sounds from the Seaford Underground” combines liquid guitars and bass with improvisational vocals that are often barely discernible. Sometimes it’s a quick stitch of melody, or spoken word poetry or lo-fidelity recordings of a disconnected, discordant tune. And then from time to time, you get actual melodic lines and lyrics such as those on “The Valley of Wine” and “The Message is Clear” (although to be honest, it wasn’t all that clear to me).

There are no drums, no overt beats, no loops. Instead, the minimal instrumentation uses sound as a texture, weaving vaguely surreal field recordings and stringed instruments into a bizarre experience straddling the line between art and chaos, between reality and nightmare.

These questions occur to me while listening to the massive, 17-track album Let the Dogs Erode: Is this the ghost of melodies past? Is this a packaged product or a drug? And on songs like “Soliel,” is this the sung melancholia of a million aborted fetuses who once swam in amniotic fluids?

The artist name actually makes sense in a strange way. If amniotic fluid or liquor amnii is the nourishing and protecting liquid contained by the amniotic sac of a pregnant woman, then this music is the nourishing, flowing water of your subconscious which feeds nightmares and slow-motion dream sequences.

It’s tender, it’s unsettling, it’s fragile, it’s awash in reverb, and yet sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered. Who knew field recordings plus guitar music could produce something so dangerous?

Artist’s Self Description:
Started improvising with a whole heart in 2006 on modified guitars and a home-made drum kit (made by my collaborator – Carl Henderson).
Began recording and editing jam sessions.
Began recording solo work in the beginning of 2010.
Collated works into double album in 2011.
Studying at the University of Brighton currently.

Details:

• Amniotic’s album on Bandcamp
• Caul-Imprint, the artist’s blog.

Blusmoke’s Lo-fi Soundtracks for Life

Blusmoke at work in his home studio

Blusmoke (aka Ryan Itchon) is a guitarist and electronic music producer from Paranaque City, Philippines who uses a combination of hardware synth boxes and software to make music.

His electronic music is all over the map in terms of genre — jumping from soothing Ibiza-inspired downtempo peppered with classical guitar melodies (The Red Jacket, Of Roses and Synthetic Dreams) to frenetic video game music (Rapid Induction) and outright trance complete with endless 16th note snare drum rolls and soaring synthlines (Sunrise, Maiden Flight, A Tribute to the Noble Knights of the Temple, The Contrast of White on White).

The unifying element in all nine tunes he offers for free download on his Facebook page is the idea of the soundtrack. His music has the ability to seamlessly melt into the background, refusing to jar your consciousness from whatever it may be doing, and instead, creating an underlying bed of emotion on which to experience your current activity.

I’m not sure if my ears are fooling me or if some of the tracks are really encoded at a low fidelity bitrate, but nevertheless, the overall output carries the same emotional weight. This is electronic music that feeds the heart while allowing you to experience life.

Details:
Blusmoke’s Facebook page http://listn.to/­blusmoke contains nine downloadable or streamable tracks.

Soundclick page: http://www.soundclick.com/blusmoke

Allison Weiss’ lovelorn yet buoyant acoustic live album

Artist: Allison Weiss  | Album: Live at Sidewalk, NYC

A cross between the witty prose of Suzanne Vega and the young poppy angst of Avril Lavigne, Weiss is shiny and buoyant, even in her lovelorn pain. You can tell she’s thoroughly enjoying herself onstage, performing her music and conversing with her audience intimately. She performs the entire set on acoustic guitar, making this sound more like a jam session on your back porch after dinner than an actual album. But that’s the appeal of Weiss’ music and the personality that shows from her spiels in-between songs. Her pop is the approachable kind, like that of a talented friend’s, or a beatnik cousin’s — the person you can count on to break out her original songs around a campfire. Favorite tracks include the jump-up-and-dance album opener “I’m Ready,” the Suzanne Vega-ish “July 25, 2007,” the bittersweet end-of-relationship “I Had to Do It,” the angry “Yer Goin’ Down,” and the cover version of Rihanna’s “Umbrella.”

She knows her guitar well, and plays it with enough variety to keep it interesting. Can’t wait for her to finish her studio album. Interestingly enough, this Athens, Georgia-based artist raised a bunch of money via Kickstarter in order to record her album. Her initial goal was $2,000 but by the end of the campaign, she got more than 7k pledged.  In gratitude, she performed a marathon live-streaming concert of her singing all 50 of her songs on one afternoon, and she’s releasing it as a gift to all her donors. Talent + skill + indie marketing savvy = an artist living out her dreams.  More power to her, we say. 

DETAILS:
12 MP3s encoded at 128 kbps, 44.1 kHz stereo. Total run time of 44 minutes. 

Download page for Allison Weiss’ live album (one zip file around 41 MB) 

Artist website.

Portabot’s liberating wall of noise

Artist: Portabot |   Album: There Must Be a Sunrise In Every Ending | Netlabel: 12rec.net

Just like the most basic tenets of life aren’t self-evident until you’re only peripherally conscious of them, some music won’t make sense until you forget you’re listening.  Portabot’s 44-minute album of maniacally-sliced-and-diced guitar samples, drones, FX, noise, atmosphere and glitches is one example  of what I’m talking about. Listen to it at work and let your consciousness fade in and out as you concentrate on whatever humdrum task you’re doing at your tiny cubicle in the middle of the corporate machinebeast’s belly. And pretty soon Portabot will make an awful amount of sense. Portabot (aka César Pesquera, a Spain-born graphic designer, director and musician who lives and works in London and Barcelon) is on a mission to free your mind from the repetitious transactions you deal with and expose you to the radiation of his granular synthesis and sample distortion. 

There is noise out there. And the noise in your headphones will drown out the noise around you. Wave upon wave upon wave of building noise grows in your ear canal. When the album finally ends there is release and the silence becomes a sad affair. In that sense, Portabot’s album is the muzak that sets you free.

DETAILS: 

12 MP3s encoded at 256 kbps 44.1 kHz stereo. Album’s zip file is 106 MB in size. Total runtime: 44:52

Download the entire album as a zip file from their netlabel release page on 12rec.net (which includes the music video for track 12: “Lladro”). 

http://www.12rec.net/Release_Portabot_055.htm

Artist website: http://www.portabot.net/

Just like the most basic tenets of life aren’t self-evident until you’re only peripherally conscious of them, some music won’t make sense until you forget you’re listening.  Portabot’s 44-minute album of maniacally-sliced-and-diced guitar samples, drones, FX, noise, atmosphere and glitches is one example  of what I’m talking about. Listen to it at work and let your consciousness fade in and out as you concentrate on whatever humdrum task you’re doing at your tiny cubicle in the middle of the corporate machinebeast’s belly. And pretty soon Portabot will make an awful amount of sense. Portabot (aka César Pesquera, a Spain-born graphic designer, director and musician who lives and works in London and Barcelona) is on a mission to free your mind from the repetitious transactions you deal with and expose you to the radiation of his granular synthesis and sample distortion. 

There is noise out there. And the noise in your headphones will drown out the noise around you. Wave upon wave upon wave of building noise grows in your ear canal. When the album finally ends there is release and the silence becomes a sad affair. In that sense, Portabot’s album is the muzak that sets you free.

DETAILS: 

12 MP3s encoded at 256 kbps 44.1 kHz stereo. Album’s zip file is 106 MB in size. Total runtime: 44:52

Download the entire album as a zip file from their netlabel release page on 12rec.net (which includes the 18 MB music video for track 12: “Lladro”). 

Artist website: http://www.portabot.net/

The Perfect Summer Soundtrack: Juanitos’ surf guitar rock from France!

Juanitos - Best Of album

Artist: Juanitos
Album: Best Of
License:  Creative Commons.
Released on Jamendo

The problem with so much free music on the web is:  it’s like playing the lottery. Most times you’re gambling and losing on any given download. But then there are days like today — when a cynical old music downloader like myself feels like he hit the jackpot!

What elicited such a reaction? The Juanitos’ Best Of album which collects 11 of the most upbeat surf guitar rock music I’ve EVER heard. And it’s made by a group that (supposedly) operates out of the French Alps. Say what? Of course, I can’t be perfectly sure because the liner notes on their Jamendo download page are all in French.  And I’m too thrilled by the music to bother Googling them. Let the music speak for itself.

The album is the motherlode of all the summer tunes you’ll ever need this year. You’ve got Spanish lyrics, English phrases, pure ’60s surf guitar kinda like Smash Mouth as played by the Ventures, surf rock mariachi as pieced together by the Los Criminales Mariachi Band of East L.A. (I made that up), rockified bossa nova by Santana’s mutant half-brother, and even oriental(?) reggae!  Juanitos music is a load of energy, humor and good vibes. Combine that with a beach towel and you’ve got summer all bottled up in your iPod. Download your vacation here.

DETAILS:
11 MP3s encoded at 192 kbps.
Total album zip file is 45 MB in size.
Total running time: 33:14

Download page on Jamendo: http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/41987

Juanitos official website (as far as I can tell): http://www.juanitos.net/