Die Rote Fabrik: Incident EP

Here is a piece of Belgian darkwave from 1986 that has been long, long forgotten. Self-released and hand-stamped for an underground DIY feel, this is a record that is sure to please the hardened goth and DIY post-punk fan.
The record starts with the song “Murder”, which grows quickly from a few samples to a barrage of scratchy guitars and synth-drums start up, backed by a steady bassline. It’s a lo-fi but blistering goth track falls squarely between Screams for Tina and Section 25. “Give Me Your Love” is a much slower song that wallows in gloom and self-pity as the singer desperately pleads and begs for companionship. The song starts with a barebones structure of metronomic drums, single-note-bass, and lazy guitars until the last minute, when the guitar picks up, synths kick in, echoing the urgency in the singer’s voice. Side B starts with Pain, which features syncopated drum machines and layers of noisy guitars. Finally, the record closes with “Fast Living”, which is all stuttering drums and yelling vocals that compete futilely with a sheer wall of tinny no-chord guitar noise.
Two of the three members of Die Rote Fabrik later would later form Starfish Enterprises and add more electronics to their barrage of noise; later that group broke up when one of the members went on to record (quite prolifically) under the moniker Starfish Pool. The record is the one remnant of Die Rote Fabrik’s existence that I know of. It’s one of those records that feels a bit out of place – when it was released in 1986 it was too late to find an audience amongst its kindred spirits in the early post-punk scene; it was a bit too noisy to be popular in goth clubs, and it certainly was not poppy enough to garner any radio play. Hopefully people out there like this one… it has certainly grown on me. As an added bonus, a few copies can currently be found on discogs for relatively cheap!

Die Rote Fabrik: Incident EP

1986, self-released

A1 Murder
A2 Give Me Your Love
B1 Pain
B2 Fast Living

Click here to listen!

Prophet O’Haphazard: Cabaret Nostalgia EP

Here is the obscure second release from the somber German singer Prophet O’Haphazard, called Cabaret Nostalgia.I originally thought O'Haphazard was a girl, but it was actually the pseudonym of one  Oliver Gerling). His debut EP  - which is a must-have for underground synth fans - can be found on Capa Nostra Syndicate,  and is highly recommended.. The record’s album title gives a hint of what is in store on this record – gothic cabaret music mixes seamlessly with electronics and effected guitars and O’Haphazard’s wonderfully sullen, deadpan voice. At times his forceful but somewhat feminine voice recalls early efforts by contemporary artists like Molly Nilsson and Zola Jesus, but he’s less poppy than the former and more dynamic than the latter.

You and Me Covered in Silence plods along like gyspsy funeral parlor music, while Sum Up To Suicide is a beautiful mesh of aching synth strings, stabs of guitars and sparse drumming that sums up to one of the most bleak songs ever. Side B kicks off with Prophet O’Haphazard proving his bona fides with an excellent cover of Thomas Leer and Robert Rental’s Monochrome Days. Magic Mushroom Kingdom starts off aimlessly before it turns into perhaps the first gothic minimal synth-psych song, sort of like Astaron mashed up with Red Temple Spirits. Sadly, despite being about a Mushroom Kingdom, it does not mention Mario or Luigi at all.
Finally the album ends with a reprise of a song from her debut EP, Till I Hate You. Fittingly, this song is called Till I Hate You 2. You know, in case you weren’t sure he hated you the first time he sang it… well, he still does. Interestingly, while the title implies that it will be a bitter tirade against a lover who wronged him, it’s actually a slow, melancholy track with lyrics that drip with thoughts of heartache while the music retains an almost sweet hopelessness.

Prophet O’Haphazard: Cabaret Nostalgia EP

1989, Minstrel Records

A1                           Moon Over A Town And A Yellow Flowerfield Behind

A2                           You And Me Covered In Silence              

A3                           Sum Up To Suicid

B1                           Monochrome Days

B2                           Magic Mushroom Meadow       

B3                           ´Till I Hate You ´2

Click here to get it!

Commercial Music: Volume 3

It’s been a few weeks since I last shared something on this blog (that Spiff record is one of my recent favorites though). So I think the third “Commercial Music” collection of odds and ends – obscure B sides, demos, or good songs on otherwise mediocre albums – is certainly called for.

This one is by far my favorite of these compilations. It’s the most diverse, and almost every song is solid, whether it’s an unheard demo song demo, a new band, or classic post punk. Here’s what’s in store for you:

     Atoms for Peace were a Gainsville, FL based new wave band who self-released one album in 1985 and then.. nothing. The record is pretty obscure, and for the most part it has not held up as well as other new wave records. But the second song on the album, Pictures, is a total classic that builds intensely from a few acoustic guitar strums to a crashing Bunnymen-esque post punk song with some pretty cool vocal delays during the refrain.

   Next is an extremely obscure Belgian band who self-released one LP in 1987 on the ominously-named “Mahomet’s Holy War” label.  Apparently only 50 copies of it were pressed, and it has been pretty unknown (obviously due to its scarcity) for many years. But their sole record is becoming more and more of a holy grail, and this song is a killer post punk song that sounds very similar to the great Dutch band Mecano – huge thanks to Lesypersound for this rip!

       Next up is a forgotten UK new wave band. This song is the B side of their sole 12 inch from 1985. While the A side is really nothing special, the B side is excellent and falls squarely in the Flock of Seagulls vein of synthpop (admit it, you like it).

     Work of Fiction released one song on one of those hundreds of local band compilations that were so prevalent in the 80s. They were from upstate New York. The vocals are quite cheesy (imagine Robert Smith crossed with Rick Astley), but the great synths on the song make it worthwhile.

     Next up is a Missouri-based band who released one 12” EP  that contained three pretty standard AOR pop songs and one quite good new wave song with a nice repetitive synth rhythm.

     That new wave song is followed up with a Florida-based goth band who had a few songs on various compilation records but have otherwises remained quite obscure. These guys were unapologetically, humorlessly goth. And while their earnestness may sound a bit cheesy now, this song inexplicably holds a place in my heart. My cold, black, unbeating heart.

     Many of you will be familiar with the next band, whose style of industrial is heavily influenced by early Front 242, Nitzer Ebb, et al, with all the leather fetishism that comes with the genre. This song is from one of their extremely limited (13 copies only!) demo CDs that were sold on a 2008 west coast tour, when the "band" was just one person singing and thrashing around to prerecorded music.

     We follow that song up with a Detroit band who, had one song on a completely unknown compilation the late 80s, and that’s pretty much it. It’s a shame, since this track “You Make It Hard” is a pretty great synthpop track somewhat in the vein of late-80s Depeche Mode.

     Next is another Michigan band, Clambake, who recorded a couple extremely limited cassettes (including a Christmas album!) and faded into obscurity. Their music was synth-heavy and somewhat industrial, sounding very similar to bands like Gelatinous Citizen. This song became better known after it was re-recorded by the industrial band Shock Therapy, with whom they collaborated.

     Jezebel and the Nudes were your average female-fronted new wave/disco crossover band. They had one 12” EP in 1983 that has three somewhat forgettable songs, and then ends with this great dramatic disco-wave song chock full of synths and electronics.

     The next band was a trio active in the early 80s who released two very limited albums (only 500 copies were pressed of their debut, from which this song Chasing Moroder was taken). For the most part, they played a mix of new age and improvisational jazz, but analog synth nuts will absolutely freak over this song, which features a steady kr-55 rhythm and pulsating, gurgling and crashing electronics and stabs of effected guitar noise. It truly sounds like its namesake – if Moroder was being chased in his nightmares.

     After a deranged electro song, what's more polar opposite than an extremely underrated Manchester indie band active in the early 90s. Their music was a mix of Britpop, shoegaze, and bits and pieces of the Madchester sound.  Virtually everything in their small catalog is excellent, and this is one of my favorites.

     Next is a Texas band who released a very obscure 7” that contained one somewhat bland bar-rock song, and this song, a blistering and absolutely killer blast of post punk fury that sounds like an aggressive version of For Against or Lung Overcoat. VERRRRRRRY great

     Next up is another new-ish band with many hats. Some songs are industrial dance, some are more electro, but this song (my personal favorite), taken from their demo CD, is a post punk tour de force with a wonderfully thick bassline.

     The next band released a demo tape in the mid-80s, with songs that paid a generous homage to The Cure. It’s not too surprising, as the band would soon change their name and release an entire album of Cure-esque goodness. This song was exclusive to the demo tape.

     Day & Age were a San Francisco area band from the mid to late 80s who self released one LP full of midtempo jazz-pop songs and one great (but definitely cheesy) synthpop song. Their bio states that they were proud to announce that it was played on Live 105 during a midday program, so perhaps SOMEONE else out there heard it.

     After that is a UK new wave band who released a couple extremely obscure and  LPs. Their first one was a dark, if amateur, Joy Division-inspired album; their second LP (from which this song was taken) found them a lot more matured but still with a dark edge. I’m only sharing one song of theirs because you can buy their entire recorded output at CD Baby  –it is highly recommended!

     Unless you collect Christian ska compilations , you’re quite likely to have missed the next band's only recorded output. Contrary to the rest of that compilations, this band played a dramatic and quite dark synth-heavy post punk full of reverb.

     The last band is filed under “freestyle” pretty much 100% of the time they are mentioned on the net. Freestyle fans apparently know a good thing when they hear it, but I have to say that this is “freestyle” the same way that 90s synthpop bands like Cause and Effect or Red Flag were “freestyle”. Which is to say… not really that much. But no matter how you want to label this song, it is pretty much the best synthpop song of the early 90s – an absolutely beautiful, epic, melodic and perfect synthpop masterpiece. HUGE thanks to Lesypersound for this one!

Where can you hear this treasure trove? Right here!

Spiff: Music At Last!

We cannot always judge a book by its cover, nor an album on its artwork. I know this from experience, as all record collectors surely do. I’ve purchased countless cheap records completely unheard, based upon their promising cover art, only to cringe when my needle hit the wax and the hideous sounds of Air Supply-esque wuss-wave spewed from the speakers. Conversely, sometimes an uninspired cover can actually hide a surprisingly excellent record. This record by Spiff is a perfect example. Although its simplistic cover looks like it may have come from a mid-80s AOR pop band from Iowa that recorded an album of soft rock jams with lyrics about how much they want to rip off your teal jumpsuit and muss up your feathered hair as they rock your body (gently, of course… they’re soft rockers, after all), in reality the record is a completely unknown, Southern Californian one-man synthpop extravaganza.

While the prospect of late-80s synthpop leaves a very sour taste in most of our mouths, let me assure you that this guy was the genuine article. It sounds as if he worshipped in the church of Vince Clarke and Paul Humphreys. While other kids in his school band were learning to play Stars and Stripes Forever, he was trying to convince the music teacher that the composition sorely lacked a Jupiter 8 solo. And while other kids recited the US Pledge of Allegiance every morning at school, he probably sang Just Can’t Get Enough.

Truly, there is not a dud on this album. The only criticism I really have is that it is not a very dynamic record – most songs are about the same BPM and sound vaguely similar to one another, and the same drum fill is used on almost every song. Of course, given the choice between listening to a slightly redundant late-80s record heavily influenced by Speak and Spell, or a third-rate Quiet Riot clone singing their last remaining brain cells out, I certainly prefer the former. And there are songs that stand out from the rest here – Phon is eminently danceable, with silly lyrics and samples of telephones ringing. Follow Me has an absolutely killer bassline and is prefect for any synthpop dance club (especially since most of the lyrics simply say “get up, get up, get up and dance”).

The more I listen to this record, the more I appreciate the mysterious Spiff's completely earnest take on a style of music that was certainly passé when he released it. He was 10 years too late to enjoy any sort of renown with this record, and at least 10 years too early to take advantage of any sort of early-synthpop resurgence. In a way, I suppose he was one of the very first people to revive this style of electro-pop, albeit at the worst time possible (commercially, at least). At the beginning of “Clauge”, he declares “In the late 70s, no-one understood… there was a new age dawning. And this is what it sounded like” just before a barrage of (kind of cheesy) analog-sounding electronics smacks your ears. With this statement, you know that Spiff is trying desperately to recapture the sound of a bygone era. And I’ll be damned if he doesn’t succeed wonderfully.

Spiff: Music at Last EP

1989, self-released

Spiff is on the way to re-releasing his music digitally! Check out this page for more info. 

Human Trapped Rhythms mLP

Here’s a release from 1985 that’s so far out in left-field that it has pretty much left the ballpark. Combining industrial noise with minimal electronics, mantra-like chants and primal screams, utterly unrefined singing and creepy tape loops - all of which come together in the most barebones of musical structures - this record is less a collection of “songs” than an amateurly sinister (or sinisterly amateur?) foray into avant garde atmospherics.

Many of the tracks here are little more than synth lines over which male or female vocals sing, talk, shriek, or all of the above. Some sound a bit ridiculous and cross the terrain into simple pretension, but there are some tracks that are both stark and beautiful. “No Words” is about two or three notes played on the low end of a synthesizer, with the female vocalist slowly reciting poetic lyrics. “The Message” is the closest this record comes to an actual song, with thudding sparse industrial percussion, hints of an ominous rhythm in the background, and male vocals repeating the words “roll back… and die”. “Blood Run” is nothing more than white noise and chimes, as a cacophonic chorus of ghosts tunes their vocals.

The title track is particularly odd and interesting, awash in sampled noise and echoing laughter, child’s-toy instruments, and vocals that vaguely recall traditional British folk music. It’s a pretty strange and slightly creepy track. It kind of sounds like those brief 5-10 seconds of hushed music played at the end of horror movie trailers. You know those trailers that begin with a narrator whose vocal tone implies profundity, but whose words are cliché, bordering on inane? They start with “In a world… where there is no line… between life and death”, and then there’s a minute of action and suspense scenes. Then the trailer cuts the sound to a minimum, and a quiet, spooky song (a song quite similar to the title track on this record) is the only sound in the theater, played at a low volume to build suspense, as the camera zooms in on a lone figure in an austere room illuminated by a moonlit window, and maybe the eerie music is accompanied by vocals of a little girl with a British accent, whose otherwise innocent and sweet singing sounds vaguely evil as the shadows of dying trees dance in the moonlight, playing across the mystery figure’s visibly trembling silhouette, and the camera moves slowly but steadily closer to them, and you wonder if the figure is perhaps the singing girl, or a monster, or a figment of someone’s imagination and then the figure slowly turns, and they're revealed to be a girl in her late teens, her vacant sheet-white face glowing a ghostly blue in the moonlight and the vocals fade and all music fades aside from a lone suspenseful shimmering note and then out of nowhere BAM!!!!! a sparkling vampire grabs the figure you realize it’s a trailer for a new Twilight movie. Goddamn it.

Listen to the mLP here.