DOUBLE REVIEW: Frank Rosaly

This is something of a long-awaited celebration for me; after years of not finding any active free jazz and free improvisation musicians outside of Scandinavia and Ken Vandermark, who himself is connected to the Scandinavian scene at the hip, Utech this year (aside from giving me some top-notch Scandinavian work) shoved my face into the continuously active Chicago scene, right at my doorstep.

Best face-shoving ever.

We'll take a shot at these records in chronological order; though now that I've tapped into the stream (which only takes a few moments at Frank Rosaly's blog and a visit to Heaven Gallery on a Saturday), there will be more coming.

Frank Rosaly and Dave Rempis - "Cyrillic" (2010) [482 Records]

I'm a sucker for saxophone and drums duos, which I'm sure has nothing to do with me playing both. They're both wildly flexible instruments, and Rosaly and Rempis here add a solid hour to the infinite spectrum of what the combination is capable without even deviating from a common reference point enough to unbalance the record's coherence.

"Cyrillic" is a fitting addition to the free jazz library; Rempis flows everywhere from sentimental flowing melodies that would make Ornette proud ("Thief of Sleep"), through motif-driven spurts, to the kind of screaming, agile chaos that is the hallmark of saxophone in the "New Music" ("How to Cross When Bridges Are Out"). Rosaly, meanwhile, works everywhere from a drummer-friendly progressive polyrhythmic groove ("Antiphonos"), old-school post-bop drumming ("In Plain Sight"), and constantly births wild rhythmic and timbral inventiveness--unusual metallic ringing, rolling chaos, scattered bursts--everything.

Frank Rosaly - "Centering and Displacement" (2012) [Utech Records]

"Centering and Displacement" is another creature altogether. Rosaly here is working as a percussionist only secondarily; the primary artwork is the concrete result of composition with recorded percussion. More in keeping with Utech's patterns of releases, "Centering and Displacement" is a distinctive work that creates its own style.

Rosaly worked in this case based on chance arrangements (an appropriate next step for improvised material), organizing spatial and time organization as well as electronic manipulation. The result is hypnotic and constantly enlightening, perhaps closest to Haptic's "Scilens" that found anchor among my favorite works of 2011. This is the sort of thing that appeals to fans of contemporary music and ritual music alike; complexity and difference combining to create an intense atmosphere.

Two more records for the "go out and buy this" list. New tab, rosaly cyrillic, new tab, rosaly utech, paypal, buy. Shoo.

Sounds Of Autumn I: Stroszek and KTAOABC

It's high time I started a weekly special thing, so why not celebrate my favorite season of the year? Looking through my "to-do list" (yeah, it's really long...I'm trying to catch up!), I realized quite a few recent-ish releases have a nice "autumnal"/pastoral sort of feel to them, be it thematically or overall atmosphere. Over the next seven weeks, I'll be covering one or two of these third-season-centered albums a week in this special "Sounds Of Autumn" feature.

WEEK ONE: Stroszek and Kiss the Anus of a Black Cat

Both writeups after the jump.

Nadja - "Dagdrom" (2012) [Broken Spine Productions]

Hard to believe it's been over two years since the last proper Nadja full-length, especially given their insanely prolific output.  While there's been no shortage of material from the duo (the interim has seen a wealth of splits, reissues, and collaborative releases, including the woefully undersung "The Primitive World" collaboration with Vampillia, as beautiful as anything Aidan and Leah have done), there's been nothing authorial from them since 2010's "Autopergamene"; you could be forgiven for wondering if the constant barrage of recordings had given way to a fallout with creative subsistence.  Are Nadja out of ideas?  Have they taken their formula as far as it can possibly go without becoming redundant?  Do they need the musical prodding of another involved artist to reach new plateaus of sound exploration?

The new album "Dagdrom" provides no real answer, if only because of its inherent confusion.  While this is Nadja as known, they've opted to replace their usual "stumble and plod" drum programming with the measured and hammering approach of Mac McNeilly (of the Jesus Lizard), and the end result is something that isn't exactly what I consider to be exemplary of their sound; nor is it deviant in any ground-breaking or revealing sort of manner.  The last Nadja record to feature a live drummer was 2008's "Desire In Uneasiness," but where that record gave in fully to punishing kraut-rock style pulverisation and numbing lobe obliteration, "Dagdrom" simply uses McNeilly's drums as a re-imagining of Nadja's traditional percussion approach.  While it's nice to hear McNeilly bang away on "Falling Out of Your Head," it's not terribly arresting or flattening.  He simply gets lost and buried under Baker's ocean of guitar effects, fighting for space amidst a growing roar of delays, echoes, and distortions.  He's an irrelevancy in a whorling storm of chaotic sonic overload.

The other misstep here is in the nature of the songs themselves.  These four tracks are as simple as Nadja have ever been, revisionist versions of standard pop formulae that sound more like they belong on one of Baker's delicate solo albums than they do as dream-sludge lava freeflows (previous 2009 album "Belles Betes" predicated its entire existence on that very conceit and pulled it off) .  The majesty is lacking; in some instances ("Falling Out of Your Head" and "One Sense Alone") the riffs are just boring throwaways, monotonous and insultingly chromatic sub-Tool approximations that equate dynamics with the obvious difference between clean and distorted guitars.  The only song that really seems to hint at the grandeur this band is capable of is the title track: also the shortest of the four, it trades on a bludgeoningly melodic chord progression that manages to make the most of McNeilly's style married to Baker's penchant for lazy and narcoleptic stream of consciousness propulsion.  Some of Baker's guitar voicings here have a dreamier feel than before, as though these may actually have been sketches for a solo album fed through the Nadja template; "Dagdrom" is the one track here that makes that self-cannibalization seem worthwhile.  Closing track "Space Time & Absence" utterly fails to deliver on the arrogant promise of its title; while the feel is appropriately primal, Nadja have been here before and done it much better (listen to "Deterritorialization" off of "Desire In Uneasiness" and you'll understand.)  Instead it becomes a black hole of limp ideas and blatant melodic stretches done for their own sake.

I still love Nadja.  With as much material as they have, there's bound to be failed experiments and some lackluster tracks.  They are a band that more often than not rewards the devotion they inspire (despite everything said here, I will still buy "Dagdrom.")  The brilliance of some of the material of the last two years speaks to their continued relevance, and the work they do in conjunction with other artists often sees both parties going outside of their niche zones to a great and vitalized effect.  "Dagdrom" is just another notch in the release belt; while the Nadja devout will no doubt obtain it and try to extract what they can from it, it is not a worthwhile entry point or an intriguing curio object for the flirtatious.  The wall of banality Nadja have erected here will not close them off from longtime followers, but it will cause a flutter in our collective hearts as we hope for something stronger, more immersive, more all-encompassing.  At their best Nadja can move the earth.  With "Dagdrom" they're just dragging their feet.
"Dagdrom" is currently streaming in full at Nadja's Bandcamp site.

-Cory

Auroch - "From Forgotten Worlds" (2012) [Self-released]

While listening to Canadian death metal trio Auroch’s debut LP “From Forgotten Worlds,” I couldn’t help but consider the contrast between the United States and Canada. For as can be clearly seen, my native land is a superficial wasteland justifiably associated with murder, racism, sexism, high blood pressure and a huge, gaping abyss between the rich and poor that also enjoys picking on other countries and being an overall cunt. Canada on the other hand…well. They seem so much nicer – much easier access to pills to pop, incredibly low crime rates and a higher quality of life, even among the elderly. The world doesn’t hate them, either.

However, underneath that serene, maple-flavored layer of compassion there must be some long-hidden demand for aggression, some demand for dark gods of revenge and retribution. And what better place to seek inspiration for articulating these urges than America, the superpower that perfected all things on the left-hand path? Hell, it’s all over America’s history, from past to present to the imminent future. So Ican't help but feel it likely that this explains the foundation of the music of Auroch, a trio of dudes that plays what they call “Lovecraftian metal” – horror-inspired music to scar the soul, express the fears of the unknown and relish in the fever felt through blood bells chiming. I hope the band visits Lovecraft’s corpse and performs on the spot – undeniably, his corpse would rise and start narrating The Call of Cthulu to the sounds of “Fleshless Ascension” and crack a rare smile.  

“From Forgotten Realms” effectively embodies everything one could ask for in an undeniably metal album; no quarter for anything that could even remotely take away from the mood of the album. While unprecedented amounts of metal bands are running the gamut on expanding their sound from jangly techno beats to djent to thick reverb layer cake, Auroch feels like a band that collectively pulled a Rip Van Winkle, knocking out in 1992 and waking up just a few months ago. Strong songwriting makes this album less a plunderphonics grab and go spree and more of a very strong, cohesive gust of refreshing, northern Arctic wind. All throughout “From Forgotten Realms” the trio serves up heapings of raw cookie monster vocals, guitar solos, high pitched cries of ecstasy, pounding ritualistic drums and wonderful anachronistic lyrics about opening portals, listings of Lovecraftian deities and the feeling that your mind is being shredded into strips of fajita meat because you cannot fathom the incomprehensible tongues the band is invading your mind with. Indeed, the trio of Sebastian Montesi, Zack Chandler and Paul Ouzounov deserve well-earned praise for taking tried-and-true elements and working them into a ludicrously effective blitz on what sacredness remains in everyday life.

Far too often, nostalgia is the impetus for inspiring new artists to create music. Sometimes these musicians succeed in their homages by taking a refreshing look on old material while others, more often than not, fail by coming off as carbon-copies unworthy of hard disk space. (Good thing we have YouTube.) Indeed, that latter category has raised the ire of many people with keyboards at hand, who are more than happy to tell you that “X band sucks because they sound just like Y band.” But sometimes a throwback to the past is just what we need; with their penchant for impressive riffage and murky oceanic vocals, Auroch manages to not only live in the past, but prosper in the present. 

-Shane D

Mark Przybylowski - "Lonely House" (2012) [Galtta Media]

In Southern California, in this mid-September heat, in this next to last gasp, I can't wait for autumn. My girlfriend is kind enough to remind me that even as autumn arrives, here, it doesn't really arrive. (The cold is a Southern California cold; the changes are, apparently, miniscule.) She reminds me that I have to, instead, grasp at, and hold on to, autumnal states of mind. She reminds me that I need to feel my life with autumnal things. Perhaps its fitting, then, that I'm beginning to finally turn back to Mark Przybylowski's phenomenal early summer release, Lonely House.

Przybylowski is a multi-instrumentalist (double-bass, cello, guitar, voice), working out of Philadelphia. As best as I can determine, Lonely House is his first recorded solo work.

Lonely House is divided into 7 separate compositions, and, if I'm to believe the song titles, they carry forward a fragile narrative. "Slow Winter," the first song, is reminiscent of the seemingly endless window gazing that happens around the house durning the last months of winter, looking out not at the excitement of snowfall, but at the continued presence of dirty ice, set and reset, and bare trees. The song carries within itself the dullness of any season that has lasted too long, and is realized in the slow beauty of Przybylowski's guitar and cello. "Lonely House," the titular track, is a slow composition for guitar and double-bass. While there is a slight jazziness to the composition, much of "Lonely House" brings Jandek, that other lonely house musician, to mind, as if Przybylowski was, in these moments, his melodic brother. A subtle layer of voices carry the song to a close. Suffice it to say, "Sunday" sounds like a hymn stretched to its limits, drawn out into slow the beauty of its structure and melody. "Blank Walls" is largely carried forward in an ethereal layer of voices. It is, perhaps, the fullest composition on Lonely House, in that you hear Przybylowski playing all instruments, almost waltz-like, almost verging on the best that Rachel's accomplished. "Lamentation" is almost too reminiscent of Bach's "Prelude No. 1 in C Major." Yet, Przybylowski builds, adding cello and double-bass. Simply, this song most fully realizes the loneliness of the house: that is, the familiar made unfamiliar, and the space that surrounds it all. Perhaps most forcefully, here, the very much home quality of the recording adds to, rather than detracts from, the perceived content. "The Pain" is perhaps the jazziest recording on Lonely House, but as before, it is a slow jazz, and a cold jazz, played as though convinced of its warmness. It ends, lingering with itself, almost slowed to a crawl. The final track, "Rejoice," is the shortest on the album. Largely cello driven, and almost hymn like, it is fittingly (if realistically) redemptive end to Lonely House. The house may remain, the loneliness too, but there is some consolation in the swaying melody, and in the rich tones, pulling.

Of all the minor releases this year, Pryzbylowski's Lonely House is surely one of the most deserving of the audience it should, but never will, get. If you wish to seek it out, either to listen or to buy, you will find it here.

--Nathan

Thomas Köner - "Novaya Zemlya" (2012) [Touch TO:85]

This review begins with an experience.

About a month ago, I was flying back from an excursion overseas on a sunny day.

I was unaware that this flight was going to pass over Greenland.

What ensued was awe-inspiring: looking down and seeing the glacial patterns, icebergs, rock canyons, and deep trenches was an experience I know not everyone gets to know in their lifetime. Sure, people live on parts of that large continent (its overall population number being not unlike that of a small midwestern town), but the sense I got while looking down was "my goodness, there is barely a soul down there. This truly is remote."

Fast forward a month.

I'm at Reckless Records in Chicago, realizing I need to hurry up and write more reviews. I make an impulse buy which turns out the be this album. I had never listened to this man's recordings, nor had I yet seen his website or art. This was purely my first introduction to his craft.

"Novaya Zemlya" is an archipelago on the far northeast of the European continent, with rare human interaction besides the few who live there. Most of Köner's works, as it seems, are inspired by such areas and the almost metaphysical environments he experiences in such places.

This album, then, can only be a success.

With three tracks full of low-frequency washes, distant field recordings, and almost unnoticeable and subliminal blips of technological soundscapes, this album is a sheer paradise for people like myself who wish always to be in the opposite environment which I am in. We are busy, this has no agenda; our world is obnoxious, his world is empty.

This is three tracks of an almost complete antithesis to the life we in the urban world know.

...While I was on that flight, my plane was filled with nothing but the opposite of the landscape below me. There were screaming children and cramped spaces abundant, with impatient people waiting for the restroom access or their meals, and televisions with stupid-humor-comedies just to ensure that nobody need commit the unpardonable sin of 'wasting time'.

Below me was no claustrophobic cabin, no ear-piercing and hard-hitting sensory violation. Below, there was only a vastness which gave me solace for hours.

This album will always remind me of this, as its golden silence echoes the desires of my psyche. Music, and music appreciation, after all, is all about connecting with what you are hearing in a transcendent way.

Thank you, Mr. Köner.

- Elan

My own visual of a new land.

Mares of Thrace - "The Pilgrimage" (2012) [Sonic Unyon Metal]

Alright.

I've got a very confused stance on this band.

On one hand, the lyrics and themes confuse me.

I know most lyricism in the sludge/grind/punk/whatever else scenes tend to be as occasionally cryptic as they occasionally bold.

But here's my dilemma: the song titles speak fluently of a story in the Old Testament of the Bible in which King David sees a beautiful woman bathing from a rooftop, so he ends up sending her husband to the front lines of a war to his death and ends up with the woman, named Bathsheba. His advisor soon comes and tells him a tale  about a jerk who takes away people's happiness and does terrible and similar things, and David realizes that he is pretty much being the embodiment of said jerk.

Now, I understand how that would be an excellent lyrical theme - the humility and humanity of a supposed leader of God's chosen people/nation.

...But the actual lyrics, which read more like a poet's letter to an ex-wife or something, seem to only breach the concepts of this story like the tip of an iceberg, leaving the rest of this iceberg of a concept to be hidden beneath figurative murky waters.

Whew.

Now that I have that off my chest:

This album is musically monstrous.

I mean, what's not to love? Two of the most gorgeous women in the music underground which I have ever seen playing a discordant, throat-tripping, high-gain amplified beast of an album.

With each sludgey groove, impenetrable atmosphere, and consistent complementary instrumentation, this band has every bit of potential to give their contemporaries a run for their money.

This album is massively appealing to a number of circles, was produced by Sanford Parker (who apparently had the daunting task of performing on this album with, and I quote, "moogerfoogers and filing cabinets".

Ergo, this disc, if anything else, has supplied me with my new favorite derogatory vulgarity.

So I suggest you listen to this beast of an album, all you crazy moogerfoogers.

...I still don't get the lyrics, though.

- Elan

Automelodi - "s/t" (2010) [Wierd Records]

Sorry folks, I'm still alive.

Now, I will be first in line to admit I know absolutely nothing about this Xavier Paradis or anyone else involved in this project. However, upon first listen to this album, I then took it for an immediate second listen. And then a third. And a fourth.

There is just something about this collection of recordings that resonates into the ear of anyone who has ever had any enjoyment of, or involvement in, more synthesizer-based music circles. Be it the seemingly coldwave-invoking, pounding basslines, or the almost Witch House-sounding synth warps, or even the distant-yet-driving vocal complements, this man has done what many aspire to do: take a few synthesizers and go absolutely all out in exploring, experimenting, and perfecting a vast array of sounds... and throw it all onto one extremely solid, and pleasantly complete, full length album. Throw in some pedal-steel guitars and whatnot and you have an album which covers a multitude of bases.

And that's not just all. No. This album is FUN. 

Enjoyable electronic music is not all too common in the present day where everyone tries far too hard to make some sort of somber, droning, exhausting passages with warped tempoes and call it electronic music. I don't know what one would call this. Dance? Synth-pop? Electro-rock? I could care less. I am admittedly not a genre-policeman. This just rules, whatever it is. 

... So yes, not sure if you could tell, but I just love this album. I listen to it at work. I listen to it in the car. I listen to it in my studio. I listen to it and sob as I look at my synthesizer and my lack of initiative makes itself abundantly clear to me.

I am not worthy, Automelodi. 

That's why I will leave this elaborate and stellar musicianship to you. May your little grey and reflex-blue gatefold CD case never leave me.

- Elan

The Melvins - "1983" (2012) [Amphetamine Reptile Records]

Latest hyper-limited release from the increasingly prolific Melvins, this time featuring the original 1983 lineup of King Buzzo on guitar and vocals, Dale Crover on bass and drummer Mike Dillard, hence the title of the EP.  Hearkening back to a time when the Melvins were a fairly straightforward (albeit still slightly warped) hardcore punk band, "1983" shows the trio at their regressive best, slaying their way through two originals that recall the era and two obscure covers that offer a glimpse into some of their formative influences.  While previous attempts have been made by the band to mine the riches of their past (most notably the "Mangled Demos from 1983" collection put released on Ipecac a few years back, but also a few stray live releases) none have done so quite as successfully as "1983," making this a quasi-essential Melvins document for those interested in the history of sludge-metal's most multiphasic and multifaceted band.

Whereas the "Mangled Demos" showcased a young group utterly caught up in the throes of a "loudfastrules" mentality that effectively quashed what would make them so unique, the two original tracks on "1983" manage to bridge the gap between the slaughterhouse approach to hardcore the Melvins had mastered and the deceptively simplistic and recidivist co-opting of standard rock form they would later lay waste to on classic records like "Houdini" and "Stoner Witch."  The template here seems to be "Set Me Straight," a song that has existed in the Melvins' live arsenal almost as long as they've been a band (it appeared on both the "Mangled Demos" and "Houdini") and a virtually perfect amalgamation of tar-belching, barbaric heaviness married to melodic pop reinvention.  The Melvins haven't returned to this sound for awhile; while the latest albums have definitely seen Buzzo embracing his classic rock tendencies, he's buried them underneath a torrent of dizzyingly complex structures and patterns, eschewing any sort of "catchiness" the songs might inherently possess.  Both "Psycho-delic Haze" and "Stump Farmer" allow the hooks to come forth unabashedly, with the former lurching along at a grinding, unchanging pace and the latter regressing into the awesome start/stop metallicizing Buzzo is so fucking good at.  Listening to these two tracks is like drowning in some beautiful, tepid, gorgeously brutal nostalgiah, the closest the Melvins have come to repeating the formulas laid out in their masterful mid-90's output.

The two covers here adhere to the style of the originals.  "Stick'em Up Bitch" is a rework of the Pot O'Pies' near krautrocking "Fascists Eat Donuts," a droning one chord chunk-a-thon that is as mesmerizing as it is anthemic, recalling similar forays into "zone-out" psychedelia the Melvins have toyed with on "Youth Of America" and "The Lighter Side of Global Terrorism (Extended Space-Melt Version)".  While certainly an arcane choice, the song meshes well with the original work, shedding light on some of the intent behind the EP.  "Walter's Lips" is a far more obvious sort of assault, a Ramones-esque blast of pop-punk majesty from The Lewd that allows the Melvins to whip themselves into a sunshine and rainbows type frenzy without it being seen as "weird" or atypical (although at this point the Melvins move in so many musical directions they've pretty much demolished any idea of atypicality that might affix itself to them.)  Much like the covers they did for the "Hostile Ambient Takeover" series of seven inches, "Walter's Lips" lets the Melvins cut loose on the sort of song they aren't normally associated with but can absolutely shred on and also illuminates a side of Buzzo's influences that isn't normally brought to the fore.

"1983" is easily one of the most enjoyable recent Melvins offerings, satisfying both my joy of seeing them in trio format and their revisititation of a style they've seemingly left behind.  While Dillard is not the drummer Crover is (and no one ever will be, in my opinion) he serves these songs well, giving them the necessary drive and pulse that carry them into head-nodding brain-obliteration territory.  Buzzo is in fine form as always, spewing out slurching distortion and his standard space-warped vocal histrionics as well as playing an awesome solo on "Walter's Lips."  It's the sound of a band having a shit ton of fun looking into the mirror of their past and pulling something vaguely reminiscent but ultimately new out of it.  As much as I've been non-plussed by the latest full-lengths, the Melvins are still one of my very favorite bands, and an awesome reminder of what can be accomplished by remaining true to your own specific vision and not taking shit from anyone.  In the art book they published a few years back, the frontis page had an inscription reading "Melvins say FUCK YOU."  "1983" reminds me of why the Melvins are one of the few bands who can truly say it.  Great stuff.  Supposedly this EP will be available on the current tour, but like most of the stuff the Melvins do with AmRep, it'll disappear almost immediately.  If you want to get a copy, get to the show early.

-Cory

CASSETTE ROUNDUP III: Brave Mysteries CQBL031-036, 038-039

I waited a bit too long to do mass coverage for one of my favorite labels. I skipped CQBL37 for strategic reasons, mostly the fact that I'm half of Eitarnora, but don't let that trick you into thinking I have a conflict of interests or anything of the sort. Here are my thoughts on most of the last two batch additions to the Brave Mysteries "Cassette Qabal."

EIGHT short reviews after the jump.

Funerary Call - "Fragments from the Aether" (2012) [Crucial Blast]

We have a saying in the business world, "Presentation is everything," and "Ross Bay ritual dark ambient" project Funerary Call's Fragments from the Aether is no exception to said rule. The eerie drawing of Cernunnos which graces the cover initially caught my eye and set part of the tone for the music within. The three offerings start with pulsing drums and a susurrus, inviting the listener to slow their breathing to match the flow of the enveloping sound.

This album brings new ideas of ritual ambient to the table and executes them quite well with grating undertones and breathy vocals. Drifting guitars introduce harsh noise while maintaining the mournfulness through overlaid violin-like wailing; the ebb and flow of Libation drags the emotions with it into a frenzied high before lying the listener down in an exhausted, unexpected, post-coital heap. The second track, "Fragments," is more subdued and the forefront is dominated by the tensed violin's aching for some form of release... it is eventually joined by a drone background which still denies the needed release but morphs the violin's wantonness into a more sensual tension, as if the climax is near yet the buildup needs to play out fully before both parties can enjoy its fruits. The remainder of the album continues both the coital and ritual themes, alternatively twisting and rolling as it uses us to explore the curves of a beautiful woman in an intimate setting. All too soon, the drone gradually ebbs into a strange percussive scraping leaving an edgy unfulfilled desire.

Funerary Call successfully pull off ritual ambient with sensual undertones, and Fragments from the Aether is like returning to a favorite lover who brings both of your consciousness to new heights. Fragments from the Aether is available as streaming audio from the Crucial Blast Bandcamp and in a handsomely-designed digipack.

-A.

DOUBLE REVIEW: Kevin Hufnagel

2012 has been a big year for guitarist Kevin Hufnagel. With two critically acclaimed full-lengths already under his belt, namely Dysrhythmia's triumphant return and Vaura's equally as stellar debut, a tour with Gorguts, and an upcoming Dysrhythmia tour, Hufnagel's own solo works seem to lurk in the shadows cast by his more popular projects. Having been familiar with Hufnagel's solo work for the past few years, the wider sound palette used adds another deeper dimension to an already gifted and complex musician.

"Songs for the Disappeared" (2009) [Nightfloat Recordings]

It's odd, I actually found this album on a download blog shortly after it was released some three years ago and never made the connection that the Kevin Hufnagel on this album was the Kevin Hufnagel on my Dysrhythmia and Byla albums until fairly recently. On this album, Hufnagel takes his unique brand of jazz-like modernity and merges it with various aspects of non-Western music through the use of prepared guitar. The art of "prepared guitar" is a modern practice in which the musician places objects, normally paper clips, staples, rubber bands, or, in the popular case of Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, drum sticks, onto the strings in order to stretch, mangle, and otherwise distort the guitar's natural sound. With his preparation, Hufnagel is able to produce clustered chords of harmonics which would be impossible to play naturally, Gamelan-like percussive sounds, and other textural sounds. When using the prepared guitar, Hufnagel is able to produce the effect that he's been joined by a group of swift-handed percussionists. Of course, while the prepared guitar is used for most of the album, tracks like "Will They Find Me" take a more ambient route, reminiscent of early "post-rock" but with a much more loop-oriented, swelling sort of nature. Songs for the Departed had been one of my favorite paper-writing albums throughout college, and, now that I'm freed from the grip of undergraduate studies, has become the soundtrack to my own personally-driven studies.

"Transparencies" (2011) [Nightfloat Recordings]

Two years after releasing the acoustic wanderings on Songs for the Departed, Kevin Hufnagel returns to the solo artist world with his second full solo-album, Transparencies. Unlike the more natural, "rooms filled with acoustic guitars" sound found on his previous album, Transparencies takes a much dreamier, droning route. Much like the approach taken by fellow experimental artists Adam Wiltzie and Brian McBride of modern classical-based drone group Stars of the Lid, the sounds found on Transparencies are almost orchestral in nature, only instead of the ensemble playing Arvo Part through an army of delay pedals, Hufnagel's guitar takes on the form of the most glorious orchestral tuning session imaginable. I know that sort of comparison sounds awkward, but when you take each instruments' natural distance from "concert C," or the standard tuning of a piano, there is quite a bit if deliberation and thought put into tuning with your peers in an orchestra. Paired with the warm hiss of distortion hidden underneath, the walls of harmonic bliss Hufnagel builds with a guitar is absolutely magnificent.

Choosing the word Transparencies as a title for music like this is interesting, for there is quite a bit of depth in its execution which would make it opaque, or at least translucent, and yet, from a synaesthetic point of view, it makes sense. Transparencies is made of the most delicate, prismatic glass, and only Hufnagel has the finesse to handle it.

-Jon

ANATOMY OF A MIX TAPE

The tape was called "Thirty-Two Songs," and I made it circa 2000 (I'm sort of unclear on the exact dates) for a girl I was very into at the time.  She was going on a trip to California with her parents via car (we were from Wisconsin), so I wanted to give her something that I thought would keep me front and center in her mind while she was away.  What's strange to me is that I willingly made a mix tape for her comprised almost solely of music I knew she wouldn't like.  She thought my musical taste was really silly and immature, as I listened almost exclusively to death metal and black metal at the time.  I was really into the burgeoning metalcore scene "blowing up" then, and I wanted to show this girl that metal could be as emotional and heart-wrenching as anything she was listening to, without resorting to the incredible brutality of death and black metal that I guessed would be really off-putting to her.  Of course there was a subliminal element at work as well, as many of the songs on the tape were about unrequited love and rejection and negative feelings towards life in general, all things that resonated profoundly with me then.  I spent hours compiling this thing, and then never ended up giving it to her.  I was afraid giving her a tape of music I knew she thought was beneath her would only make her think less of me, and I wasn't emotionally equipped to deal with any further hurt during that period (my battle with clinical depression was growing more and more difficult by the day.)  For some reason I kept the tape.  I dug it out of the closet a few days ago, and as I was listening to it in the car I realized this represented a very microcosmic view of an equally microcosmic time in my existence.  I've decided to write briefly about each selection here in hopes of achieving some personal insight (and maybe even some humour) regarding a fairly formative stretch in my life.

1.  NEMA "LIDLESS EYE"

I started the tape off with this very extreme paean to J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings," as we were both fans of his writing and I thought she'd catch the reference (and thus be more endeared to the tape, and, by extension, me.)  Nema were a pretty dark hardcore band from Michigan, comparable to Uranus or His Hero Is Gone, and this compilation absolutely shredded my car stereo in my early twenties.  There was a distinctly black metal sensibility to what Nema were doing-the clean singing that finishes out this track is easily reminiscent of vintage Gorgoroth-and the melodic violence they brought to their music elevated them beyond their peers (at least I thought so.)  I no longer own this record, but I love this song.  Tolkien's world was medieval, brutal, and full of darkness.  I still think it's perfect thematic fodder for a band to work with.

2.  MORNING AGAIN "MURDER YOU CALL WAR"



Listening to this track again I wonder what I ever really saw in this band, as it's pretty rote Slayer worship without any of the real primacy or aggression.  Even then (when I wasn't a stellar musician myself) I remember thinking how lagging and out of synch the guitar riffs towards the end seemed.  This song was thrown on the mix tape simple because of the "pretty" clean guitars section, which I thought would be melodically appealing to the tape's recipient.  These guys were straightedge too.  I no longer have this album, and again, have never missed it.

 3.  INK AND DAGGER "WE LIVE DESPITE THEIR SCHEMES"

Another "out there" pick included on the tape to appeal to sensibilities other than my own, Ink and Dagger were a band I flirted with but never really got.  They seemed to me too much like kids taking a LARP game of "Vampire: The Masquerade" (which I occasionally played) and turning it into a band.  There were some slightly more raging songs on this album but I chose this particular track simply because it was so out of character with metalcore.  Looking back I admire the band's willingness to flirt with aesthetics beyond their genre confines, even if I no longer own the record.  Apparently Eric Wareheim of Tim and Eric fame was in this group for awhile.  Makes sense.

4.  RED SKY  "ESCAPE ME"

This band totally slayed me back then, musically and lyrically.  One of the more overtly metal bands and completely unapologetic about it, Red Sky were some serious destroyers circa 1998, and "Knife Behind the Smile" was one of my favorite records from the time.  Red Sky were one of the few acts that could actually do justice to the Slayer influence they wore so blatantly, and the personal intensity of their lyrics endeared them to me all the more.  I used to listen to this song at peak volume in my car and scream along with the windows open, oblivious to whoever was watching me.  I was in Red Sky's universe then.  I didn't give a fuck.  Still one of my favorites, and I wish I still had the album, but my brother stole it from me and sold it to buy pot.  Somehow that seems a decent end for it.

5.  HOT WATER MUSIC "COUNTING NUMBERS"

Hot Water Music inspired some very serious devotion from their fans.  I remember some of the guys at Extreme Noise (where I bought virtually everything on this tape and still buy tons of shit at today) turning me on to this band, telling me how raw and honest they were.  They weren't wrong.  This is really a beautiful, moving song and it still gets to me today, even if nothing else by the band really resonates with me anymore.  Just do a search for this song on Google and see how many posts of the lyrics turn up.  It's a heart-crusher, for sure.  I knew it then, which was why I included it on the tape (you always hope people you love will get your reasons for doing the things you do) and I still think it has a tremendous power.  I don't have any more Hot Water Music albums, but when I threw this in the other day, I still remembered all the words.  "Thinking I'm not happy/And I think you're right/I can wash this away/And get her out of my mind."  You never really can.

6.  MORSER "ARMAGEDDON RISE"

Another band that actually exceeded the metalcore tag and began to move more into honest death metal territory, what with their extreme vocals and generous employment of blastbeats.  Morser were from Germany (where there was amazing shit coming out at the time) and pretty much destroyed all of their American counterparts working in the genre.  "Armageddon Rise" was my favorite track off this record, and I still think it's pretty awesome.  In my own projects I love longer songs and numbing repetition but if you could deliver this much brutality in just over a minute then you were fine by me.  There was no way my paramour would have liked this, but I didn't care.  Morser never released an album as severe and flooring as this.  Another one my brother stole from me, but it isn't terribly hard to find.  I've even seen some vinyl versions here and there.  I would own this again.

7.  CONVERGE "DEAD"

Is there anything I need to say about Converge?  I don't think so.  I loved them then, I love them now, and I still have all of their albums.  Their fusion of thrash metal posture and caustic noise was revelatory when I was young, and I have always loved Bannon's lyrics (this song was another one of those "i hope you get the lyrics to this" choices on the tape); Converge were the model for a million bands I started in my head back then.  Strangely enough, I've never seen them live.

8.  DAMNATION A.D. "WAIT FOR A DAY" 

One of my personal favorite bands from the era, because they pretty much went against the standards of the genre.  Damnation A.D. were super heavy, overtly sludgy, and slow, and I think I sort of thought of them as the Melvins of the metalcore movement.  It helped that almost all of their songs were about failure, suicide, and hating life.  This track was no exception.  I loved the keyboard flourishes at the beginning of the track (odd, because at the time I was very "anti-keyboard" in any form of metal) and the intense melodicism of it overall, and I remember identifying heavily with the lyrics.  It;s amazing how much listening to stuff like this helps you when you're feeling like shit.  Just knowing someone else has been there and made it through made an incredible difference.  This band may have staved off some of my own attempts on my life.  The rest of this record, though, wasn't quite as good as this track, and I got rid of it at some point.  I still think the cover art on this album is kind of dumb.  Tanks?  Really?  What the fuck is that?

9.  ASSUCK "SOME SONG I DON'T REMEMBER"

I knew it was bound to happen.  Writing this has actually required a fair amount of research and net combing (on the original tape I didn't write down any song titles, just band names) and this one is that rare instance where I'm coming up empty.  I know the band is Assuck, who were very much along the Napalm Death line (i think I put this track on the tape because it was so similar to ND, and I used to jokingly tell my paramour I thought eventually all modern music would sound like ND-why, I can't recall) and I know the track comes off of "Anticapital" but that's it.  I remember loving the aggression of this band, but always thought the riffs were a little bland, and the overtly political stance made it difficult for me to really ally myself with them (to this day I hate politics in music, with the glaring exception of the Dead Kennedys, who get a pass because they're so fucking good.)  Obviously I no longer own any Assuck, and don't feel any sort of void because of it.

10.  HARD TO SWALLOW "HARD TO SWALLOW"

I always loved bands that had a track named after the band.  It seemed you could not fuck around if you were going to have an eponymous song, and most every band that does it makes sure the song pretty much slays.  Deicide being a prime example, the UK's Hard to Swallow being a far more obscure one.  I picked this up at Extreme Noise on a whim and wasn't terribly impressed (despite their significant posthumous cult following) but found a few songs to have the visceral quality I was looking for.  What I really dug about this track was how the band cycled through the main riff a bunch of different times with a bunch of different tempos.  Repetition with innovation.  Kinda cool.  I no longer own this, because I think band names indebted to sexual themes are pretty dumb, as are most songs about sex (unless it's philosophically complex, ala Whitehouse and a wealth of PE and noise projects.)  These guys are obscure enough that I couldn't find the specific track anywhere, but for the truly curious, the album is available via a number of blogs.

11.  OVERCAST  "DOUSING THIS FLAME"

I was super into this band back when I made this tape, but wonder now what I ever really liked about them.  Their big claim to fame is that some members went on to form the incredibly and wholly awful Shadows Fall, but this record showcases a much more truly metal sound than the band they would eventually become.  I liked this track because it was about serial murder (which was fascinating to me then, when I was a criminology major) and also because they were tenuously connected to Hydrahead, having contributed to "In These Black Days" series of Black Sabbath covers, but some of the riffs here are decent too.  I thought their vocalist was kind of cheesy-sounded like a surfer with family baggage.  I got rid of this album gladly and have never regretted it.

12.  FLOODPLAIN  "YOU CAN'T FORCE..."

One of the jewels on the tape, Floodplain were a band from my area (the Dakotas, if I recall) that were doing something distinctly different and interesting within the metalcore  genre, fusing a certain dissonance to a removed melodicism and an almost casual vocal approach that reminded me a lot of bands like Codeine or Seam (who I also loved.)  This is another incredibly obscure record, one which I very much wish I still had, because the riffs and lyrics from this song get stuck in my head constantly, even today.  Sometimes they'll just pop in, reminding me of how fucking spot on Floodplain were in their depiction of modern malaise.  "We're all just standing around/Talking, but not really saying anything/Waiting to die/Waiting to die."  Fucking brilliant, as true now as it was then.  I am so sad that I could not find a link to this track, because it's pretty awesome.  How this song would have stirred any romantic feelings towards me I don't really know.  I think I more wanted to communicate how bland and banal I thought life to be.  Girls like mystery and the aloof, don't they?

13.  BIRD OF ILL OMEN  "NOW RUIN IS"

Totally loved this band back then as well, because they seemed so much more complex and angular than a lot of the other shit I was subjecting myself too.  They also had an extremely negative outlook on being, as evidenced by this massive track from their "Self, Dare You Still Breathe?" EP.  I loved the mixture of clean singing with the throat shredding main vocals, and the blinding chromaticism found throughout the song is a technique I would steal over and over (most notably in the Yog-Sothoth song "Why Doesn't My Dad Like Daltrey?") alongside the blatantly melodic overtones.  I still think this band was ahead of the curve, doing a sort of Slint-esque take on hardcore that's now championed by groups like Bosse-De-Nage in a black metal aesthetic.  I don't have this record anymore either, and I can't really remember why-it's pretty stellar.  There have been numerous times in my life when I've really needed money.

14./15.  FALL SILENT "GREAT WHITE DEATH/ANY WAY YOU WANT IT"

These guys were quasi-local as well (the Dakotas again, if memory serves) and pretty much blew away any hope any local bands might have had of making insane, violent hardcore.  Fall Silent were uber-technical, tight as fuck, and ragingly aggressive.  Just listen to the riff theatrics of "Great White Death" and tell me otherwise.  I loved the snare drum sound on this record.  The other thing Fall Silent did that was cool was every album they'd cover an eighties rock gem (on their first record it was Pat Benatar's Mellencamp penned hit "Heartbreaker") with little to no irony; on this record it was Journey's classic "Any Way You Want It", a song my paramour and I both loved back then (we heard it all the time on the classic rock station we had to listen to at work).  I think they do a great job with it, although I wish there were a guitar solo.  Small complaint.  I don't have this album anymore because I grew a little disinterested with Fall Silent's "tough guy" approach, but I still have fond memories of this.  Who the fuck doesn't like Journey?  Anyone?

16.  PIEBALD "TIME LOST" 

At the time, this album represented better almost than anything else on this tape the sort of sound I loved, as well as where I was at emotionally.  Piebald wore their hearts on their sleeves when they first started, and while some people might find this aesthetic derivative of a million other bands, no one did it this well, or this unabashedly honestly.  The lyrics to this song still mean quite a bit to me; I still get goosebumps when I listen to this entire record.  Piebald never sounded like this ever again, and it saddens me a little, because this was achingly beautiful and raw.  I saw them live shortly after their third album came out, and I asked Travis Shettel afterwards why nothing they did sounded like "Sometimes Friends Fight" anymore.  He told me he was just a different person from the one that wrote that record and he wasn't in that place anymore.  I still own this album and listen to it pretty frequently-it's sort of timeless for me, with a lot of memory affixed to it.  The harmonic riff that surfaces early on still leaves me breathless in its awesomeness.

17.  IN/HUMANITY "ME AND MY SHADOW" 

Also one of my favorite bands at the time, In/Humanity opened me up to the world of "emo violence" and the small but amazing niche group of bands that practiced it.  This record was instantly endearing to me because it was subtitled "Music To Kill Yourself By."  The romanticized ideal of suicide is still one that I ascribe to, and In/Humanity captured the agony and frustration of desperate inner loneliness better than virtually anyone.  This was some seriously intense shit.  I still think it is, as I still own this record and will throw it in every now and then.  Also awesome were Chris Bickel's post In/Humanity project Guyana Punch Line.  Unfortunately popular musical history hasn't been as kind to In/Humanity as it has some of the other artists on this tape (guess I was never as cool as I wanted to be) and I couldn't find any version of this song to share with you.  The record's out there, with minimal digging necessary.

18.  CAVE IN "JUGGERNAUT"

Do I need to say anything about Cave In?  They were great for awhile and then became overly fixated on being metalcore's answer to Radiohead.  Stephen Brodsky was one of the biggest dicks I've ever met.  Totally arrogant, with no time for anyone, and completely caught up in his own corpulent rock star posturing.  I'm kind of glad the world more or less shits on Cave In now.  Sadly, I can't deny the sheer complexity of this record, and the utter magnificence of this song.  It's a great hybridization of melody and thrash theatrics.  Another killer harmonics riff in this one too (and Travis Shettel even sang back up on this record); I remember reading in some interview years ago that it took Cave In three days to record that little part of the song.  Fucking ridiculous, even if the result is stellar.  I wish I could say that I've sold all my Cave In records because Brodsky sucks, but the old stuff still shreds.  I've still got this on the shelf.

19.  HIS HERO IS GONE "VOLUNTARY AMPUTATION"

Another incredibly brutal track by another band I totally adored at the time.  His Hero Is Gone were like a sludgier Napalm Death who were unafraid of melodicism.  If anything, HHIG understood the power of accessibility (no matter how tarnished or raw) and fused it to a death metal template.  At the time it was tough to find stuff like this.  "Fifteen Counts of Arson" was one of those records I just liked because of its all out anger and disgust with society.  And HHIG kept churning albums out.  As I got older, though, the political rage proffered by HHIG grew tired to me, and I began to seek out musical violence elsewhere.  I still love this song, but I no longer have this record; not sure if I have anything by these guys anymore.

20.  CROSSED OUT "A BUNCH OF SONGS"

Power violence was one of my briefer genre flirtations.  I liked the idea of it, but I could never really find any band that did it as well as it seemed it could be done.  Crossed Out were one of the more esteemed bands and while I guess there was a reason, I don't really know what it was.  I had this record and threw some shit from it onto the tape; I knew it wouldn't go over well (as though any of the rest of the tape would) with the girl but I didn't care.  Maybe I was feeling vindictive at this point in the tape creation process.  One thing for Crossed Out: their records were really abrasive sounding and pretty much in the red, which I can still appreciate.  I don't have this album anymore and could care less.

21.  ENVY "GREY WIND"

Another excellent band that is still managing to turn out music just as powerful and emotive now as what they were doing then.  This track came from Envy's still-superlative first album "From Here To Eternity," which I stumbled across in the bins at Extreme Noise and bought based on the little blurb card that had been tucked in.  I have never regretted it.  Envy were insanely passionate, musically violent, and heart-wrenchingly gorgeous.  They understood better than a lot of their contemporaries at the time (and today) the power of dynamics, both instrumentally and vocally, and used them to astonishing effect.  I love the vocals here-they're raw as fuck but also wounded and yearning and desperate and welcoming.  This is just a staggering song from an amazing band, and I still get goosebumps listening to it.  I scream along in approximation since I don't know Japanese, but it just feels good to be in tandem with them, like we're all connected by the same emotions in the song.  I still have everything by Envy.  I love them.

22.  DISEMBODIED "GONE"

More Minneapolis metalcore.  I really dug Disembodied at the time because they were totally about depression and suicide and removing yourself from society by any means necessary, and this song was easily my favorite.  I liked the use of spoken word vocals and the lyrics were pretty stellar besides, but looking back this really isn't a very good song-the riffs are super boring, there's a serious overuse of dissonant intervals (although all of metalcore is guilty of that one) and there's really very little memorable about the track.  At least the cover art was kind of striking and cool.  I grew incredibly disillusioned with Disembodied as I got older; they seemed to me to epitomize the worst characteristics of "tough guy" metal (sweat suits, hip-hop aggrandizing and fetishization, and banal songwriting.)  I no longer own this record.

23.  CREATION IS CRUCIFIXION "THE PERFECTION OF SUICIDE IS IN ITS AMBIGUITY"

CIC were miles beyond what anyone else in metalcore were doing at the time.  The moniker isn't even appropriate; CIC were one of the first wave of modern tech metal bands that would reach its cultural apotheosis with the release of The Dillinger Escape Plan's "Calulating Infinity" in 1999 (CIC beat them to the punch by about a year with "In Silico" and blew them way in every other regard as well.)  This is Deicide "Legion"-level shit, insane hyper-technical riffing and frenzied start/stop song structures that blur the mind physically and conceptually.  I threw this track on the tape because it was the only one on "In Silico" that offered even a moment of reprieve; I wanted my intended listener to get lulled by the soothing clean guitars and then scorched by the scathe a few seconds later.  There's a live performance of this track here; it starts at about 3:30 or so.  CIC got way more intense and ambitious on later records.  "Automata" used an amazing monologue from Mike Leigh's dystopian epic Naked (an amazing film if you've never seen it) to critique consumerism and religion, while "Child As Audience" came packaged with book-length instructions on how to reprogram Game Boys into cultural re-education software boxes.  Crazy, weird stuff.  None of the members of CIC have gone on to do anything remotely as cool or interesting.  I still have everything by CIC.  Radical outer limits severity.

24.  CATHARSIS "IN SOLITARY"

More epic thrash stylization from a band who went far beyond the genre confines to craft something truly unique and distinctive.  Catharsis viewed themselves as more of a punk presence; they endorsed an obviously anarchic view and held organized religion in serious contempt as evidenced by the anti-cosmic bent of much of their work.  "In Solitary" was one of many fucking amazing tracks off their debut "Samsara"; I remember putting it on the tape because I absolutely loved the riffing, especially the section starting at about 4:00-total metal majesty in the most headbangingly brutal way.  I listened to this record constantly back then.  Catharsis just got better and more nuanced and complex with each album; I still have everything they released and would never, ever part with it.  Members of Catharsis went on to play in the equally awesome Requiem and Umlaut.  Hating society almost always seems to inspire great music.

25.  JESUIT  "SUICIDE KING"

More stuff that I still love.  Jesuit really appealed to the side of me that was listening to the Dead C and Merzbow.  Total noise aggression melded to a metal base and immolated for maximum destructive effect.  I always thought Jesuit should have been way more popular than they were; there was a discography that came out last year but beyond that they were kind of passed over in the wake of heavies like Cave In, Isis, etc.  This song was my favorite as it seemed to be about the disintegration of feelings and the exhaustion of the self; the deconstructionist noise collapse at the end totally captured a failing and desperate state of loneliness and self-hatred. 
Of course I still have this.  It's pretty beat up, though.

26.  ACME "ATTEMPT"

Like Morser (with whom they shared members), Acme practiced a more brutalized approximation of metalcore, amping up the grind and death metal influence to arrive at something that pretty much blew their American counterparts away.  "Attempt" goes through a pretty incredible amount of tempo and mood changes across its 2:27 runtime without really sacrificing anything in the way of flow or groove.  This was a band that knew what they were doing.  I still love the vaguely melodic dissonance in this song; what bands like Disembodied were transforming into abrasive squall, Acme were actually making into memorable, maybe even "hooky," moments.  This was another CD that was stolen from me.  I haven't run across another copy since then.

27.  COALESCE "BLEND AS WELL"

I remember liking Coalesce not because I really dug what they did but more because I felt like I should, and I wanted to keep trying.  Coalesce were a little too boring and overly abrasive for me.  There wasn't anything to sink into with their stuff, just sheer and pointless dissonant riffing.  I threw this song on the tape because I thought it was the only Coalesce track with anything even resembling a groove to it.  The only thing I truly liked about the band was that their drummer also did time in the Get Up Kids (whose first album I still think is pretty great.)  The only Coalesce record I still have is their album of Led Zeppelin covers that Hydrahead put out, mostly out of novelty (although their version of "Thank You" is alright.)

28.  BLACK ARMY JACKET "MEOW MEOW MEOW"

Listening to this track makes me dizzy.  What the hell I was thinking?  This was another album I bought at Extreme Noise based on a blurb card, but unlike Envy, Black Army Jacket turned out to be really stupid.  Just listen to the vocals on "Meow Meow Meow" to see what I mean (it starts at around 2:45.)  Silly, silly stuff that I just didn't get.  This made it to the tape only for the "goofiness" factor in it.  I don't know what became of this band or what bands members might have gone on to (anything would have been better) and I certainly no longer own the album.  Frightening in its insipidness and alarming in its transparent vapidity.  If you make it through the entire live snippet I posted, listen to the weirdo yell out "Fuck yeah" at the end of the third song. Yuck!

29.  DAMNATION A.D.  "SLEEP"

Another appearance on the tape from Damnation A.D., this time taken from their much better first LP.  I really liked (and still do) the guitar sound on this album; way fuzzed out and different from what a lot of bands were doing at the time.  I put this song on the tape mainly because of the lyrics-a line like "Overwhelmed by all these things/I can do nothing about" really resonated with me at the time.  I remember being so angry and frustrated that i couldn't make my feelings go away.  i couldn't get over wanting the girl I was giving this tape too so badly, despite the fact that it was mostly making me feel like shit everyday.  I hoped on some level this song (and the whole tape) would convey that to her.  I don't think it ever would have, even if I had given it to her.  I still have this album.

And that's all there is.  I know 29 doesn't equate to 32, but it was because of those stupid Crossed Out songs I couldn't remember the titles of.  I swear there were 32 songs on this bit of analogue nostalgiah.  When I was young I thought I would love this stuff forever.  It's hard to admit sometimes that my tastes have changed.  In a lot of senses they've become far more extreme, but in some senses they haven't (for instance, I can't deny the catchiness of Ellie Goulding's "Lights"; I will be releasing a 2 disc set of remixes of it I created on my own label, Altar Of Waste Records, in about a week.)  When I was in my early 20's listening to Burzum and Leviathan I wondered if I'd still love black metal as much when I was in my thirties; sure enough, i do.  I feel like I'm getting to a point in my life where my tastes and interests are actually becoming defined.  It's really a lifelong process, but I feel like now I'm finally approaching some idea of me and what that actually encompasses.  As a younger person I worried constantly about getting old; now that I'm on my way (if 33 is really as ancient as I think) it doesn't frighten me as much, and ideas like "artists doing their best work in their 30's and 40's" are beginning to make a lot more sense.  This tape reminds me of a different person, growing up in a different time.  I know it was me, but it isn't always easy to make the connections anymore.  I have journals and letters from that time as well, and some of them seem like alien transmissions.  In that regard I'm very glad to have this, even if some of the memories attached to it are hard to endure.  I guess that's why "nostalgiah" translates as "pain, ache."  Maybe that's why i never got rid of it, either.