8Sided Blog

thoughts about music’s place in the 21st century

#Worktones: Middle Eastern Experimentation, Kalbata ft. Tigris, Jason Lytle

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Let’s dip into some music that I’m listening to while toiling away in my cosey home office. This is the latest in an ongoing blog concern that I’m calling #Worktones.

As stated in the label’s mission statement, Unexplained Sounds Group aims to ‘investigate the experimental worldwide music scene.’ This investigation includes a series of smart compilations highlighting different countries and territories — places that don’t immediately spring to mind when one thinks of ‘experimental music.’ Evidently, it’s time for that misconception to change as these releases — which include discoveries in Africa, the Balkans, and Lebanon — are uniformly exceptional. The latest is an Anthology of Contemporary Music from Middle East, a stunning collection of 16 artists hailing from countries like Egypt, Bahrain, Kuwait, Iran, Israel, Iraq, and Palestine. This is Venn diagram music, connecting a circle of tradition with one of bold exploration. The tunes wander from ambiance to hypnotic drones to heady collages, combining into a fascinating if sometimes divergent whole. For starters, check out Nilüfer Ormanli’s “Art of Dying,” one of the few tracks with a vocal, though it quickly gives way to a synthesized mantra.

Lingering in the same geographic zone, I discovered the new album by electronic producer Kalbata on the terrific Fortuna Records. Past releases I’ve sampled from Kalbata dip sonic toes in both techno and Balearic styles, revealing an eclectic ‘don’t pin me down’ attitude. This eclecticism is stretched further with Vanrock, a collaboration with Israeli ‘psychedelic afro-pop band’ Tigris. These upbeat jams deliver an exotic and rhythmic flair — sweet percussion, jazzy analog synth riffage, and low-tuned guitars over Kalbata’s electronic foundations. The fusion is fast-and-furious with the opening salvos of “Safu” and “Vanrock,” but the possibilities of this collaboration really come together with the techno-enhanced “Satan Speaks!” At six tracks, this is one of those rare releases that leaves you wanting a lot more. Hopefully, it’s not the last union of these two acts.

Jason Lytle was/is a member of Grandaddy (this song has always been a favorite), and he seems to be aiming for my heart with his latest solo effort. I mean, an album made with nothing but a Roland Juno synth (sounds like a 106 to me) and a guitar is bound to win me over. This is the world of Lytle’s NYLONANDJUNO, a gentle set of tunes created for an Arthur King Presents art installation. The instrumentation constraint yields loveliness, especially on the first track, “Hitch Your Wagon To A Falling Star.” It does sound like a star falling from the sky — the Juno providing the inky night and the echoed guitar representing slow-motion fireworks. It’s beautiful. The climate is subdued throughout, with the synthesizer and guitar trading the foreground on different tracks. Once again, I’m made to regret selling my Junos. (h/t danielfuzztone)

Ahoy, The Captain

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I’ve done some work with Toni Tennille, helping with the promotion and management of her memoir as well as some general consultancy and publishing guidance. I did have a previous connection: Toni is Caroline’s aunt, which makes Daryl Dragon (‘The Captain’) her uncle. And, technically, my uncle (or uncle-in-law).

I never met Daryl but had an email exchange with him several years ago. He was curious about the status of some C&T compositions and wanted help investigating publishing and master rights, with the hope of exploiting selections from the catalog. Daryl sent me this detailed email — one of the most meticulous I have ever received. He listed all of the songs in question — dozens — separated by genre, style, and era, with codes designating where each was released, if it was a demo, if the song appeared in a film, and so on. Interspersed throughout the list was his commentary on the tunes, often with wry humor and not-too-subtle hints of frustration with the industry. Unfortunately, we never made it past this initial stage, but this personal glimpse into a music industry veteran’s catalog remains illuminating.

Also, The Captain started one of his emails to me with “Ahoy, Michael!” That was pretty cool.

One thing that I always found fascinating about Captain & Tennille is that they owned their publishing from the beginning. It is rare for songwriters signing with major labels to keep their publishing rights, and even rarer to do this in the early ‘70s. Another bold move was Daryl’s decision to open a recording studio, Rumbo Recorders, in 1979. Whatever preconceptions you might have about Captain & Tennille know that Daryl and Toni had the foresight and an independent spirit that eludes many ‘superstar’ artists.

Daryl Dragon passed away yesterday at the age of 76. Toni was with him and, though their relationship was troubled and they divorced, the two remained close. It was sweet how encouraging and at ease Daryl was with Toni’s memoir, which some found explosive in how it addressed their personal history. Right before the book came out, I was in a car with Toni and ‘The Captain’ called. Toni put him on speakerphone, and it was fun to hear their interaction, two close friends catching up.

Toni once told me that Daryl had a massive love for music technology and synthesizers. She said that if he could just play around with synthesizers all day, then he’d be happy. So, in tribute, I’m posting this video from the 1978 TV special Captain & Tennille in Hawaii. I think it shows Daryl Dragon truly in his element.

P.S. I bet you didn’t know that Daryl (and his brothers) have a rad psych album out on Ninjatune.

Hitting the Links: Paper Synths, The Velvet Underground, and Cuban Numbers Stations

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Perhaps a budding Sunday tradition? Once again, I present five online articles that caught my fancy over the past week:

Meet The World’s Most Obsessive Fan Of ‘The Velvet Underground and Nico’

Satlof’s collection began in earnest in 1987: a $90 autographed copy from “a record dealer in an antiques mall on Canal Street,” with a scrawled signature that the seller said was Warhol’s, but turned out to be Reed’s. Satlof casually picked up more of the albums over the years, paying “$10, $20, like $100 for ones with the full banana.” He stresses that his hobby is due to the brilliance of the music and his love for it. But really: 800 copies?



Miniature Analogue Papercraft Synthesizers by Dan McPharlin

Each miniature synthesizer is meticulously handcrafted from framing matboard, cardboard, paper, plastic sheeting, string and rubber bands. Rather than replicating the existing machines, the focus was more about creating a revisionist history where analogue technology continued to flourish uninterrupted.



In Pictures: The 10 Most Stunning Places to Make Music

Some of the best making-of-the-album stories are those where a wild, remote or inspiring location becomes a powerful inspiration on the music-making – The Rolling Stones at the Cote D’Azur mansion Villa Nellcôte for Exile on Main St.; Can at Schloss Nörvenich for Tago Mago; Killing Joke inside one of the Great Pyramids at Giza. In those cases, the band brought their own recording equipment with them. For the less intrepid, the world has many ready-made, custom-built, luxurious studios in gorgeous locations to fire up creativity.



Cuba’s Mysterious Numbers Station Is Still On The Air

While evidence suggests HM01 is operated by the Cuban government, it’s virtually impossible to tell who it’s sending to, which is one of the main tactical advantages of numbers stations: You can easily see the intended recipient of an email, but you can’t prove someone listened to a radio broadcast unless you catch them in the act.



The Word-Of-Mouth Resurgence of Arthur Russell

Shortly before his death, Russell and his family took a small boat out to Baker Island, a flat rock half-covered by seaweed, four miles off the coast of Maine. The musician sat on a slab of granite and recorded the sound of the waves breaking against the shore. The next year, the Russells scattered his ashes from the same rock, and they watched as the waves slowly pulled him away. On summer nights, for decades, unbeknownst to Russell or his family, locals have boated out to this same rock. They play music, and move together under moonlight. They call the place the Dance Floor.