Via satellite, transmitting from northeast Los Angeles — the Aquarium Drunkard Show on SIRIUS/XMU, channel 35. 7pm California time, Wednesdays. All tunes via our ongoing Lagniappe Sessions series ...
34.1090° N, 118.2334° W . . .
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Discoveries like Way Back When (as well as the truly astonishing excavations the Jazz in Britain project has been putting out these last few years) illustrate how dramatically the UK jazz scene was metamorphosizing at the turn of the 1970s. There was a creative feedback mechanism at work, as innovative ideas from at home and abroad—American electricity, the European avant-garde, Canterbury prog and a homegrown free improvisation tradition going back to AMM and Cornelius Cardew—were instantly assimilated and refined . . .
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For the last decade-and-a-half, Ty Segall has reliably cranked out records that show off his range, ping-ponging from scuzzed out glam rock to chiming folk ballads. He joins us this week to discuss his proggy new album Three Bells, his dogs, the influence of T Rex, and much more . . .
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Wall of Eyes is a canvas haunted by doubles, forking paths; alternate lives lived at a distance, in pieces, through keyholes. It’s also an effort that feels bracingly contemporary with a younger generation of rockers feeding on rhythmic eclecticism, from Tonstartssbandht to Water From Your Eyes. That it should mark another confident step into a post-Radiohead future is appropriate, if bittersweet . . .
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With vinyl prices still soaring, we may be on the cusp of a genuine compact disc revival! Or maybe not — who knows? But we do know that there are tons of awesome bonus tracks to be found lurking in the used CD bins. Here are just a few more . . .
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Farewell to Damo Suzuki, an indomitable spirit, an outrageous performer, a force of nature. During his time with Can in the 1970s, he offered an authentic, thrilling alternative to the rock frontman role, embracing the wild, all gates open approach of his bandmates’ music — and doubling down on it fearlessly.
For some real live evil, dig into this absolutely killer audience recording of Can in 1971 from the Tago Mago era, with Damo effortlessly surfing the waves of this still-radical sound, shrieking, whispering, conjuring, celebrating. Schmidt called Can’s onstage high points “Glücksgefühl, the ecstasy.” You’ll . . .
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Not unlike Greg Foat or the Natural Yogurt Band, the Sorcerers are another purveyor of what we recently called pulp jazz, effortlessly funky stuff trussed up with all kinds of less-reputable genre signifiers, drawn from library grooves, exotica, lounge music, kung fu movie soundtracks, instro-hipster canned psychedelia. What we love about this style is the way it hearkens back to a time when jazz was a global pop form, when its permutations, high and low, still belonged to night clubs and film scores and radio waves. At their best, the Sorcerers remind us of when jazz was genuinely . . .
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Brion Gysin rubbed elbows with William Burroughs and Allen Ginsberg. The new version of his 1983 album Junk is something of an archeological expedition: it mixes alternates and an instrumental alongside an acoustic demo and a handful of tracks released in Gysin’s lifetime to create a record that never was. It’s an interesting, if short listen that mixes the ideas flowing out of New York with Gysin’s poetry and French singers . . .
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Liam Kazar returns with a taste of his tbd next LP. "Next Time Around" is breezy, displaying Kazar's gentle pop sensibility. His plaintive voice and the subtle music spin a somewhat sadder tune than what was on offer on his revelatory Due North LP, but the results are as sublime . . .
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In Setting, the trio of Bowles, Fennelly and Westerlund have lit upon an improvisational ensemble of astonishing force and inventiveness, fluent in a musical language that melds roots, jazz, drone and minimalism. Their work is as swirling and cryptic as the abstract expressionists who once called Black Mountain College home. Even as a chaser to their proper album from last fall, at Black Mountain College Museum shows the group relentlessly evolving. It possesses a gnarled, terrible beauty. Like Appalachia itself . . .
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This week on the show, return guests Jason Stern and Don Fleming of the Lou Reed Archive join us to discuss Lou's 2007 ambient album Hudson River Wind Meditations, recently reissued by Light in the Attic, and share a bevy of Lou stories and insights. Plus, resident Lou fanatic Tyler Wilcox of Doom and Gloom from the Tomb drops by to discuss Lou's kung fu fascinations, love of comics, mindfulness, and a few of his favorite Lou pieces at Aquarium Drunkard . . .
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Principia, the third album from Parisian quintet En Attendant Ana, was one of 2023’s most enduring pleasures. Throughout its 10 extremely catchy / sneakily sophisticated tunes, the LP contained elements of vintage 1990s indie, dashes of Stereolab-esque motorik pop and a hint of the classic French yé-yé style, all centered on the winning vocals of Margaux Bouchaudon. Those ingredients are all on display in the band’s debut Lagniappe Session, as they tackle tunes by Tim Gane’s pre-‘Lab band McCarthy and Britpop synth-sters Dubstar, in addition to a delightful French language rendition of the old . . .
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Herbie Hancock became a giant under the tutelage of giants. With Mwandishi and Headhunters, the former student then reared his own roster of jazz heavyweights. Unfortunately, at the height of his popularity and singular vision, Hancock didn’t get to work those forebears which shaped him into the iconoclast he was to become. Thanks to a Chicago radio recording from February 1977, we do have an opportunity to hear Hancock with another singular voice of his instrument--with both artists at the peak of their prowess. For this seemingly one-off performance Hancock teamed up with the king of the . . .
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Danielle Boutet’s Pièces is a perfect addition to the FT$ catalogue, offering an ice-frosted window into Quebec in the mid-1980s. Chilly marimbas, even chillier DX-7 synths, slightly menacing fretless bass, a female Gainsbourg muttering enigmatically in French … Again, it’s all hard to sum up or fit into any particular genre, though you might note post-punk impulses rubbing up against new age influences, minimalism meeting up with the Chanson tradition . . .
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Previously lost footage captured on French television in 1973., dip in to this frenetic and blissful clip from Chris McGregor’s Brotherhood of Breath. After a beautiful two-minutes of the long-fingered namesake’s chopping, the South African/English ensemble marches through a masterclass of sound, worthy of many lost hours deep in the discographies of its (then) ten members . . .
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