Dreamend - So I Ate Myself Bit By Bit

     Ryan Graveface, a quiet and modest young man, has just released his newest Dreamend album, “So I Ate Myself Bit By Bit (SIAMBBB),” and what a fine work it is. Graveface, Dreamend’s prime architect, is also the mastermind of Graveface Records. Additionally, Graveface is an integral part of Black Moth Super Rainbow (BMSR), of which you may have heard. What is of major import is the substantive quality of Graveface’s work as Dreamend on SIAMBBB. This concept album brings to fruition the aural incarnation of a supposed serial killer’s diary, which Graveface allegedly purchased at auction some years back. The shadowy circumstances and hearsay of murder surrounding this release only adds to the album’s mysterious nature, a nature that exudes ethereal eeriness and cuts to the bone like the fog of pre-dawn tall tale-ing at the ol’ lake house.

     Lest previously cemented notions or expectations from either Graveface Record’s back catalogue or by BMSR sway you, rest assured, SIAMBBB stands, firmly balanced, all on its own. Inevitably, there are those who will prematurely draw comparisons to BMSR. Certainly, successive Black Moth member solo releases further demonstrate each player’s individual styles. These solo divergences serve not only to illuminate each member’s discreet, yet familiar, bases of contributions to the merged BMSR sound but also highlight individual talents in a “pre-formed Voltronic” sense. In fact, while Graveface’s style is immediately apparent it also shines like a lighthouse beacon in the rising for of an autumn eve.

     While Dreamend’s newest release is a prime example of that piecemeal sound, this album exceeds expectation and displays a soulfulness one is unlikely to expect from an album whose basis lays in serial murder. Most striking were the transient thoughts, ebbing and flowing throughout my listen, of John Wayne Gacy, Steve Martin, Sufjan Stevens, and myriad other seemingly disparate source materials summoning intangibly delightful emotions.

     Where the BMSR connection truly emerges is in the production of the established BMSR/Dreamend high quality lo-fi sound. While critics argue that production style seems substantively tenuous, it ascends to the role of ‘band member’ adding richness and texture. This album sounds, at times, as if Dreamend hand cranked tones through a phonoautograph, pushing the sound thorough blown speakers, underwater, through two tin cans. It whirls in twangy and hollow modulation; instantaneously harkening Graveface’s singularly identifiable banjo and guitar melodies from BMSR’s “Eating Us.” The crackly vocals, similarly, add an authenticity that is at once foreign and recognizable.

     This album’s conceptual nature and being a musical iteration of a deliberate tale caused me to focus with greater attention to the story’s details, track by track. Thus it seems appropriate to review the album as I listened to it and as, I assume, it was intended to be listened to.

CHAPTER I

     “Pink Cloud In the Woods” introduces some, or rather assists some in the regression, to the campfires of youth. Cicadas chirp and embers pop and the humidity and smoke are palpable. Unbeknownst to what is in store only increases the psychic devastation of what is to come. The snare begins to brush and the wispy banjo, daintily picked, gently sweeps us into a whirlwind that ultimately cannot be undone. I forget, momentarily, that I am listening to music and, based on my research of the album’s origins, begin to feel complicit in something frighteningly foreign.

CHAPTER II

     The breathy organs of “Where you belong” swell the general tone of a pleasant progression. I allow myself to be continually misled through an air of happiness. I can taste the sun of July Saturdays in 1993 while I listen to this song. This nostalgia further overwhelms my senses, gleefully disorienting me for what follows.

CHAPTER III

     “Magnesium Light” is as brilliant as its namesake and stands out as exemplar even amongst SIAMBBB’s best offerings. The phased swirls paint cracked orange loops which form a blurred vision of our greatest star. This is tantamount to staring at the sun from an active merry-go-round. Never have I been so susceptible to the hypnotic abilities of creepy modern folk music, which incidentally is meant in the most flattering of ways.

     The combination of reverberating twang and alliterating vocals “I looked at the sky today and said, I said hey ah and I looked in your eyes today and said I said hey ah. I looked at the stars tonight and said, I said don’t go, I looked at the stars tonight and said, I said don’t go away,” are a culmination of compounded joy brought on by the album’s opening tracks. This happiness, which as we soon see was induced with purpose, fades like the accuracy of distant memories. If by design, this is extremely clever.

CHAPTER IV

     “Interlude” serves as a frequency-oscillated transition from a brightly shimmering place of tranquility to mentally deep decrepitude from which one can never return. In retrospect “Magnesium Light” and “Interlude” are forceful reminders of how quickly contentment may be dulled by a single moment of reality. “Interlude” is a descent into madness, obsession, violence, and ultimately unending torment resulting in the ultimate corporeal cessation, death.

CHAPTER V

     Guilt seeps from “Repent” in tangible drips of emptiness and loss. The slow guitar picking, sparse bells, and harmonies are a sound of sorrowful beauty. Any living being may have difficulty listening to this track without evoking some type of depressive teenage empathy and feelings of failure, or worse yet, depressive adult empathy. Art of this variety is evocative and bittersweet, successful in rousing emotion, for better or, here, for worse.

CHAPTER VI

     “A Thought” conjures dark, fuzzy wizardry and instills feelings of deep concern and paranoia. Repeating “I cannot, I cannot, stop in the middle,” this must absolutely describe the obsessive inability to willfully cease a deeply engaged behavior. This is the clearest, and most disturbingly direct, example of this concept album’s stated theme. This track is effective in its simplicity and I listen through cupped hands as a child watches a horror movie, through barely spread fingers.

CHAPTER VII

     “Pieces” embodies desperation and behaves as a deep-seated terror would, managing to push deeper the floor of we once believed rock bottom to be. For that reason “Pieces” robs the title of “most despicable Dreamend song” from “A Thought.” Mind you, this is a beautifully crafted robbery, which in this story telling incarnation is hopefully without victim.

     Following directly from the hypnotic fury and an uncontrollable zone of purposeful monotony of “A Thought,” “Pieces” snap you from the act violence suddenly into a stroll through a summer’s lane, raising spirits only to crush them along with bone and sinew.

CHAPTER VIII

     “My Old Brittle Bones” perpetuates the longing developed in the album’s second half. Graveface wails “And I wait and I wait and I wait for you, like you waited, and waited and waited here for me. And one day and one day I’ll be set free, but your ghost oh your ghost, oh your ghost it will find me.” These are the words of a victim embracing death thereby transforming into a taunting force of vengeance from beyond the grave.

     Whether or not this voice, I imagine as a disembodied force of supernatural origin, is within the killer’s mind or independent of the murderer, is of little importance in the grand scheme. A song of repentance, the bewilderment of what has recently transpired draws little sympathy for the protagonist. The story and Graveface’s falsetto vie for my attention, but neither wins.

     This battle for my graces is disturbingly peppy for its content yet I am distracted, longingly awaiting the next chapter in the story. How wonderful to have immediate concern for mental safety outweighed by the curiosity of what follows.

CHAPTER IX

     Aching Silence, in my estimation, is an attempt by the killer to explain his poor lot in life. His aim, trying to convince us that he is not truly the abhorrent thing of which we are absolutely certain he is. The arpegiated ghostly twitches pulse and further aggravate our perception of the killer. Again, I know not whether these notions originate in the mind of from beyond the grave. Is this the voice of the truly dead or the almost dead as a result of psychic numbness from within?

CHAPTER X

     As the story winds up, the killer describes, in sufficient detail, the lifeless, bullet ridden, and soon to be dismembered corpse of his victim. “An Admission” ends with grumbling bass and has a frenetic pace throughout, emulating the end of a horrific tale. Yet again, the album’s theme is the unfathomable violence of humans and the constant battle within a madman’s mind.

     The dilemma here is to hate the actor while being enchanted with the beauty of the music. In this respect, Graveface succeeds immensely. I am mesmerized and disgusted throughout the album. The timbre forces regressions to youthful frivolity yet the words are horrifying. The album evokes a spectrum of feelings. Never would I have suspected this type of fare from the label, had I not been a supporter of Graveface records for such an extended time, particularly since this is less in your face psychedelia than those works that brought initially drew me to the label. However, I implore you to listen to this album, actively. You will be a richer, and possibly, more conscientious person, two qualities most people will do well by to deepen.

      Support Graveface, browse the new releases catalogue, and purchase Dreamend records here...http://graveface.com/nr.html

Festival Musica Electronica Latina 2009 and Inspiration

Hoy, This Day, Today, I sit here, drafting these words, a rejuvenated man. The FMEL, or Festival Musica Electronica Latina (Latino Electronic Music Festival), began last eve. The Chicago Cultural Center hosted the kick-of events, and kicked it off they did.

To begin, the Theater in the Chicago Cultural Center is a marvelously wondrous venue to host any event. However, to have seen Balún, the opening act, in this theater was magical. The lights and music, together, proved to be quite a moving experience, and a welcome surprise to say the least. More on this further on.

I hadn't the slightest idea that this type of thing existed. To admit that fact is somewhat embarrassing for reasons twofold. First, I have been neglecting my Mexican heritage. Secondly, I consider myself a ravenous consumer of music. In fact, music is, arguably, the only 'thing' that i truly spend my money on. Nevertheless, I fortuitously came across a copy of Extra, a bilingual Chicago magazine. It comes as no surprise that the "Electronic Music Festival" tag line captured my eye. Thus, I grabbed the rag and told my wife, "I am going to this, all of it."

So, Thursday night, I grabbed the journal, a knapsack, and the umbrella and headed down to the Cultural Center. Very few people were in the theater when I arrived. However, Balún was warming up when I entered. If their set-up portended the night's events, I thought, this rainy eve was sure to entertain, delight, and inspire. As it came to pass, most of the people in the room, when I arrived, were to serve on the panel that evening, and/or play at the evening showcases. The panel consisted of the following people (and I will give a brief description of each), from left to right. This seemingly useless bit of information may or may not be important, yet it seemed to effect the discussion.

1) Angel Sanchez Borges from Otrasmusicas.org- This man is quite intriguing. He began the evening speaking English, and then switched to Spanish. I understood, more or less, everything. I actually found it easier to follow while he spoke Spanish. Understanding less language from fuller ideas trumps understanding more from thinner conveyances, if that makes sense. He had Enrique translate for him, stating "I have a hangover and it's just much easier for me to think in Spanish." Though Enrique did translate quite well, much was lost.

Nevertheless, I did not know what to expect from Angel. He appeared to be quite uneasy with some of the topics and, thus, a bit aloof. I hadn't been aware that he would be performing.

When he took the stage with compatriot drummer, after Balún, they blew my mind. Sadly, I did not catch the drummer’s name. If anyone knows, please, hit me up. I am unsure whether Angel alone is 'Antiquo Autómata Mexicano,' or whether this is his collaboration with the drummer. Despite my ignorance I was thoroughly impressed with the music. The visuals added much to the experience. Angel, stood face to face with his drummer, only the machine and the drums separating them. Behind the two was an orange, white, any yellow mix of semicircular digital images swirling about as they performed was stunning.

The music, and I apologize for the comparisons, reminded me a combination of old acid-jazz from the Irma label, and Trans Am without guitars, and Can's droniness. At moments, the music provided such sparseness that the immediacy of moments of chaos was arresting. I am very much looking forward to purchasing AAM compact discs at the National Museum of Mexican Arts tonight. Had I planned appropriately, I would have attended with more funds. Striking and lovely music continued throughout the event.

2) Enrique Jimenez 'Ejival' from Statico Discos in Tijuana. A border town man uniquely situated to participate in three different cultures. Enrique is a product of American, Mexican, and pidgin culture indigenous to border towns the world over. I have not yet had an opportunity to listen to any Statico Discos artists live. However, Enrique did provide a drop card with a free download mixset by Cubenx entitled Blended Stock. I am downloading this mix as we speak and can barely contain my excitement of all of these new discoveries. Qué Felicidades!

P.S. It appears as though Enrique is distributing AAM's newest album 'Chez Nobobdy.' This was the album I wanted to purchase last night, and that I will purchase today. Again, I am overflowing with anticipation to dig through these sites. Check it out here...http://www.staticdiscos.com/

P.P.S. Enrique has for our aural pleasures provided a free mix set by Cubenx, which I mentioned above. What I did forget to mention is that y'all can download it as well at www.staticodiscos.com/blendedstock.


3) Nohemi Rodriquez from Verdigris also in Tijuana, and I believe, Enrique's wife. Verdigris is, the sister label to Statico Discos, and apparently a more 'feminine,' in Nohemi's words, label. I am quite curious to listen to their music. This woman beamed goodness and wore a wide smile the entire evening. She reminded me why I love music so much and the joy that a music discussion can bring. Here is the link to the Static blog...http://www.staticdiscos.com/blog/

If she can direct me to where I may find some of that Verdigris 'good stuff' I will be more than happy to go to that site, otherwise I will begin digging later. Gracias.


4) Manrico Montero Calzadiaz from Mandorla Records in Distrito Federal (D.F. or Mexico City). What can I say about this man? Clearly, Manrico reads much in the English language. While he is certainly used to speaking in his mother tongue, his grasp of English vocabulary and its nuances is superb. Manrico, just with a cursory glance of his site...http://www.manricomontero.com/index.php?/project/news/... produces and lives in the vein of Can, Neu, Hendrix, Stephen Stapleton, Genesis Porridge and their ilk.

As concerned with life as art as much as he is with the construction of sounds, his site is awash in photographs, links to sounds, etcetera. Decidedly, I am attending his performance this eve. I am yet unsure whether life imitates Manrico or Manrico imitates life. I will not expect anything, but if this is what I believe it will be, it should be illegal for Manrico, the milanesa at Nuevo Leon, and the rotating art installations at the National Museum of Mexican Arts to be in the same vicinity at the same time.

For more of his music check his myspace page at...http://www.myspace.com/mandorlalabel

In addition, check out a distributor of his music, Klangstaub, at http://klangstaub.com/shop/index.php?main_page=checkout_success

5) Luis Flores from Antenna Discos - Monterrey, Nuevo Leon. There is a special place in my heart for Monterrey because my Pops hails from there, Nuevo Leon, what, what? Anyway, I have to get a card with his information on Saturday night at Sonotheque. Hells yes. I am very excited to see this man play and hope that he is in attendance tonight so that we may engage in some jocular banter sobre los adentros y afueras de musica electronica.

Now then, these folks discussed the difficulties in extending awareness and delivering their music to a wider variety then merely the locals involved in their individual scenes. With the exception of Manrico, the group seemed to lament not only the lack of awareness of their music outside of Mexico and even their limited spheres but also the lack of social and governmental support of their music. Angel, in particular, made comparisons of the business community in Catalan supporting musicians and artists in an attempt to attract the Olympics to their city. He also made mention of hosting festivals live Sonar to generate finances for the city and how governments, business leaders, and social groups support these types of events and how this is lacking in Mexico throughout. This fact was reiterated to some extent by Luis and Enrique, however, in my opinion; this may not be the only answer.

For example, I am unsure if the Detroit Electronic Music Festival, while supported by the City, generates much revenue for it at all. If this festival generates revenue for Detroit, I don't see it, personally. Also, who knows how much support there is for DEMF, but people make it happen. My complaint is this, if these talented Mexican artists are making music like what I heard last night, and expect to hear for the remainder of the weekend, why aren't they playing at DEMF?

It is the lack of exposure for these Mexicanos? Is it Detroit promoter’s failure to look much beyond Germany and Montreal for non-Detroit artists, or even Detroit for that matter? Is it lack of communication? What is it?

The panel made mention that their projects became lost in the greater festivals when they participated in the past. In response to this, any publicity is good publicity when you are looking to expand your listener ship. However, expansion should not come at the cost of the artist's integrity. I myself would find it to be fantastic to see a greater diversity of international artists at festivals like DEMF or Mutek. Furthermore, while jacking-ass, face melting techno has its place in my heart and within the overreaching lexicon of electronic music, it need't be promoted at the expense of other types of electronic music, but rather together. If you love, we love, I love electronic music I should not be made to cannibalize electronic music for the sake of Detroit techno, or Chicago House, or New York IDM, or Argentine tango-electronica, or Mexican Nortec, or German Tech-House. You get the point.

What is the prohibitive variable that prevents artists coming together, playing together, forming alliances, and moving forward to evolve electronic music? It certainly must be the inability for us all to communicate instantaneously, or the lack of means to cross the Atlantic Ocean, or perhaps the language barrier. You see how ridiculous these excuses can be. Primarily, my hope and expectation is to open dialogue. Secondly, I wish to play out more and produce more music. Thirdly, I plan to make connections with artists whose music I enjoy and would like to hear and play with. Finally, by doing those things, we can expand the range of music we hear and decrease the perception that the community is insurmountably vast.

That being said, a supremely high note for me was Balún's performance. Secretly wishing for everything and hoping for nothing is my creed, and has been, for as long as I can recall with any accuracy or clarity. Expect the worst, no? This way you will never be disappointed. I believe that something changed for me last night on a cellular level. I have been making music in my basement for some time, often at a glacial pace, and only infrequently with my wife. What we do and what we strive for can be best described not with words, but with a good listen to a live performance by Balún.

Originally from Puerto Rico and now living in New York these latina/o electro troubadours with the beautiful visual backdrop conjured audibly induced visions of Pinocchio's Pleasure Island before (the island before everything went weird). Listening to their one hour set of joy made me think of My Bloody Valentine, Bjork, The Books, Stereolab, and much, much more. They are their own band. By my account, in moments of lucidity when the music released me from its warm embrace, I noticed an electric ukulele, (I think I couldn't tell if was 4 stringed or 8 which would be a mandolin right?) bass guitar, guitar, Casio keys, unidentified machine, electric violin, electric accordion, bells, melodica, egg shaker, keyboard, laptop with unknown software (logic I suspect), a small device which when cranked runs a programmed piece of paper through generating music box like sounds.

Oh my good heavens, Nora, Leo, Angelica, and Jose played. What is more they played with grace and humility, in synch with one another as if they had done the very same thing one million times before. Yet, last eve was the first time they performed together, on stage, in their current incarnation. Nora played the Ukulele with a slide, the high notes piercing the drone and accentuating Angelica's voice. How appropo a name for the lead singer, who in fact, sounds angelic. Her's and Leo's voice, at times unintelligible, supplemented the array of sounds as if they were instruments in themselves, which they are, and should be.

Leo changed from Casio to guitar provided further rhythms for the band. Angelica, as the others did as well, switched effortlessly between her voice, the violin, the egg, and her accordion; Nora between her bass and ukelele. Jose conducted the ebb and flow of his machined sounds. Every member, a talented multi-instrumentalist, expertly adjusted velocity and start and stop time as if machines themselves. Truly an indescribable joy to experience that hour with them, I just wanted to wrap them up in a multi-colored tapestry and take them to the beach and invite all of my friends to watch the sunset to music well suited for such things. The music was beyond beautiful and has inspired me all over again to make brilliant sounds.

This is sufficient for now. I will have more to report from the second day of this festival. As I said before, I am super fired about musique concrete from Manrico and whatever other gifts this day seems fit to toss my way.

Cheers

weareallmachines.