- Mute Swan // Trumpeter Swan
- (Self Released)
- Kitchener, ON
From the suburban desk of Lauren Rabindranath:
Who needs a music video when you can read a graphic novel? Treephones’ Mute Swan/ Trumpeter Swan album takes digital narratives to new heights – a beautiful journey to take by ear, but one that is enhanced by reading the graphic novel accompaniment. Atmospheric sound creates a dreamy haze with overlapping, at times muted, at times trumpeting elements that combine for a sound that is unique yet familiar. Raw elements create a feeling of live urgency and a surreal sense that it could be different the next time you listen to it. Fly away with it.
En direct du bureau de banlieue de Lauren Rabindranath:
(En direct de l’hémisphère gauche de Diane Beaupré)
Qui a besoin d’un vidéoclip quand on peut lire une BD roman? L’album Mute Swan/Trumpeter Swan de Treephones amène la narration numérique vers de nouveaux sommets: un magnifique voyage pour l’oreille, bonifié par la lecture de la BD roman qui l’accompagne. L’atmosphère sonore nous enveloppe dans un rêve rempli d’éléments qui parfois s’entrecroisent, se taisent ou explosent, mais toujours se mélangent pour créer un son unique, bien que familier. Les éléments bruts créent un sentiment d’urgence et une sensation surréelle que la prochaine écoute pourrait être différente. Laissez-vous porter.
- Smoki Tygr
- (Self Released)
- Winnipeg, MB
- Ken Lewis
- Cosmic Cars b/w Best Beat
- (Scorpio Records)
- Toronto, ON
- Originally Released: 1982
(Hippos in Tanks)
From the plainopsimania of Jesse Locke:
In the months after melting minds during Wyrd Alberta this April, Haligonian turned Montrealer Chris D’eon has ascended to new levels of spiritual unity. This week sees the long-awaited physical manifestation of his Palinopsia LP, and unsurprisingly, it’s just as beguiling as catching the cosmic joker in the flesh. Cleanse yourself in the shimmering waters of the broke-but-blissed anthem “Recession Proof ($40 Pay Cheque)” and incandescent g-funk of “Keep The Faith”, then level-up for the war-as-videogame banger “Kill a Man With a Joystick in Your Hand.” Refracting the squiggly synths of A Rainbow In Curved Air through the prism of 1990s House and R&B, D’eon conjures a kaleidoscopic ying yang of the past and future in posi vibed embrace. [Levin’s Note: GOAT 2010. Grip an album with a credit card in your hand.]
From the glittering chaos of Aaron Levin:
What starts out like a cosmic tiki lounge briskly lunges into a heady array of dance-floor filling funky white-man soul. Rich Aucoin’s effortlessly catchy waves of rad will caress your shoulders and ease you into any evening mood, so chant along to the smooth gang vocals and silky strings while they hang in the vibrant air. But do this for real, as the sound is really something you need to experience; the Rich Aucoin live show is an unparalleled journey into the furthest reaches of his self-proclaimed fun-core. All it takes is one grip.
Sleep Now In The Fire
From the homeopoliteia of Aaron Levin:
The double XY supra-hits conjured by this blood-lined erectro-pop duo have enough ectoplasm to put your vertebrate on full swerve. Their infectious infomercial anthems and baritone intimacy burst with emotional imminence, forcing your repressed inner-teenager to stand-up and scream “so what! I’m a homosexual cop!” And you know It’s the truth because it’s silly; party the problems away and welcome love with the reverberations of a new dawn. Why do you cry? Is it for me? Yes. We cry for you. GRIPNOWINTHEFIRE.
(Arbutus Records // Self Released)
From the cosmic slop of Aaron Levin:
If Grimes’ tour CDR (to be officially released via Arbutus on September 30th at Pop Montreal) is any indication, the cosmic-pop deity is transcending into a vocal-cruising eidolon of celestial proportions. Layers of wyspy vocals form the cooling galaxies of Halfaxa while her minimal drums synthesize Enja‘s lingering espers into a club anthem fit for the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. Or the Mos Eisley Cantina. Either way, Grimes’ future-stream sinusoids are peeling wigs.
Some Misinterpreted Sunsets
From the flashing teenage fantasies of Aaron Levin:
Brilliant genre-pollination from this out-of-left-field Vancouver quartet. Their highly visceral pressure waves ooze a strange hybridized pop-psych with flashes of electro digitalia and sampledelic cut-ups. The blotted magnetic threads of Flash Palace’s debut tape are filled with this phenomenal pilgrimage into pomo-pop principalia and has me excited beyond most hyperbolic means. A voyeuristic adventure into a genre-less future. GRIP÷0.