New thing: One Song Reviews: Uzeda w/ Wailing

The stages of grief are pretty incredible. I’ve never had to go through it like this, with a friend this close, but I’m starting to wonder if each grief experience follows the same path or is it completely exponential in terms of possibilities. I say this because I feel like I started with the first level but when I moved to the second, the first one still lingers, and now that it has been quite a few months I’ve hit new levels but the old ones are recycled with new insight.

This is of course in reference to my lovely friend Steve Albini who died suddenly of a heart attack in 2024. I won’t look the date up. I don’t need to know the date because I can remember just about every action in my life the day of and after. Why put a number on it.

I hit a new level a week ago. A new appreciation, a new acceptance and coming with it a new bursting into sobs and my wife now familiar with the scenario scooting over to console me. What a lady.

We went to bed on a Saturday evening, mildly buzzed on some wine and weed and I decided to pop on some music with my best pair of headphones while my wife started to doze off in our dark room accentuated by the dollar store glow in the dark stars that bathed us in neon green splash.

I have no idea why, but I decided to pop on Uzeda’s 2006 album Stella. Recorded by Steve. I’ve kind of been avoiding music he’s recorded for a while. I certainly haven’t listened to any of his music.

The music itself is perfection. By 2006 I’m not sure what I had decided about a math rock and from what I remember it was about to start a new age that became comical and dumb, with bands outdoing each other with bleep bloop super compressed drums ding that bell and close that high hat as tight as possible while you switch from 9:4 to 15:2 stinger into 99:98 I dunno. We probably hit the end and it’s possible that the opening track, Wailing, did it. Because all of the legitimate, aspiring giants of the time realized that there was nothing else that could be proven after it. It ended the whole argument of how to construct something complicated and terrifying and open ended and beautiful.

Listening to all three minutes and thirty eight seconds, I don’t know if the bass player ever switches his part. Think Then Comes Dudley if the Jesus Lizard had the balls to just keep going, digging deeper. That’s how heavy.

And as guitarist Agostino slowly builds up, with absolutely terrifying pick slides that are so sharp and unsettling. Followed by a dark simple chord pattern that isn’t as discordant as you may think. Slowly building a fire.

Singer Giovanna Cacciola moves from a distant low moan that just keeps going until you start to notice the build.

The guitar is now shrieking and alerting us. And Giovanna is screaming. She’s louder but still far away.

Here comes the crescendo we’ve waited minutes and the drums and bass FINALLY leave their odd signature groove to hit the part where it all comes together a blues riff from hell?? In an odd meter????? The contrast knocks you on your ass.

Meanwhile Giovanna is having a mental breakdown singing in her own language (I remember an old review of the first Nerves record on Drag City and he mentioned that the best bands have singers that sound like aliens screaming in their own language)

Sorry every one else, this is the best it could ever get.

And somewhere in all of that, it hit me. It isn’t just that this is the pinnacle of the genre, it was that my friend Steve was there to capture it. Because we are hitting a new acceptance. That I didn’t just lose a wonderful friend, but an absolute master of his craft. I know that my good friend Devin Dixon, also suffering a similar pain, brought this up a few weeks ago after listening to an Ex record. Tim Midyett the historian and trustworthy source immediately explained how nobody else could have done that. Captured those guitars and drums the way Steve did.

The thing is, in this case, it is so extra good. Because not only was Steve the best at this, he was working for a group of people he absolutely adored. His love for Agostino and Giovanna was so abundant he would talk about them constantly. Random opportunities, he had to throw it out there with an anecdote to once again shine a light on them with adoration. When I hear this recording, I can tell, it’s not just a Steve recording. Like, you record with Steve you’re gonna get a great product out of him, or at least an honest try. The most honest try. Seriously.

But I could just see him hearing this music and moving around the board with the focus that he saved for very specific situations. Total lock in. You know that he went a little extra because of his love. That first pick slide is the proof. It is too good. It pricks your ear so hard but entices at the same time.

His determination to keeping dynamics as the most important part of the product, the slow build (almost in a way similar to the way I hear X’s Nausea slowly building and building slightly faster and faster and more menacing) is so much heavier than anyone else could have produced. He respects the slow build and doesn’t smash it. Those fucking drums that kick drum holy shit it changes the way I think of a killer kick drum sound and it’s much higher than I thought.

The vocals. The perfect volume and perfect mix of close and room sound.

I assume the only other things I can think of similar would be the Breeders stuff (especially Title TK), TJL and Silkworm. You guys got like, bonus Steve. It’s here. I can hear it.

Also, I’ll bury at the end of this.

I am listening to the record as I write and when I finished writing this up I finally let it move to the next song on Stella What I Meant When I Called Your Name and it dawned on me, that I actually started sobbing during this song.

Specifically a second after 1:27 when you get an absolutely unreal squeal of feedback and it absolutely takes your ear off and then dies off into the sunset as the heaviest riff rises up from hell.

That squeal is the proof. Who else allows that and makes it announce the bomb that’s gonna explode?

SFA

Record Review: Tintoretto : s/t

Tintoretto was a band I saw many years ago, as a weird, confused teenager obsessed with the various math noise bands of the midwest. They were born out of a very crazy hardcore band called Managra that I remember seeing open for Braid and absolutely loving…mainly because when you’re 17 and have no idea what the hell is going on, it’s always fun to experience the visual and audible expression of that confusion, rage and excitement.

Tintoretto were only around for a short time and I was lucky to see them as well and purchase their 4 song EP that was most likely #1 on my portable CD player Wrapped of 1999. The four songs kind of mixed the two dominant sounds of the era, Drive Like Jehu dissonant guitars and a combination of the Louisville and DC sound with a focus on dark, repetitive bass lines and odd meter abstract time signature interplay.

Unfortunately, they never came around again and word spread that they had called it quits. Members went on to form other incredible bands that I was lucky to share the stage with including Hero of 100 Fights and Murder in the Red Barn that expanded on the two styles referenced above by adding a clear King Crimson influence, which is never dissuaded.

It was during that timeframe that we learned four more songs would be released along with some unreleased Managra songs (that if I remember correctly, were supposed to be on a split with Brass Knuckles for Tough Guys and *those* songs eventually popped up shortly thereafter on the Tetsuo/Brass Knuckles discography cd).

Said unreleased songs did not disappoint, providing more of the same dissonant, moody hardcore. Did I mention how dark this music is without relying entirely upon minor chords to convey this mood? Well, I just did.

Fast forward maybe 24 years. I learn through ~~HeartattaCk~~ Instagram that they are going to put out all of these songs on vinyl. Shortly thereafter, I learned that they had scraped the idea of releasing a discography and instead would be re-recording all of the songs in drummer Shane Hochstetler’s recording studio.

The results are fantastic. Are you shocked that I feel that way?

They start off the record with Dying Days, which happened to be the last song we heard as Tintoretto fans, the last track of their posthumous release. Clever sequencing aside, this is the perfect starter as it immediately puts the focus on the true all-stars of the band, the rhythm section that snake their way through a slick groove before the guitars show up to create even more anxiety. The following track Are You Still Dying Darling uses the archetypal “dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun” riff that every band was required to use after the ending of Nosferatu Man melted all of our brains. Performed by a less capable band, it sounds like a cliche but the execution is so perfect (and so dark, everything is so dark) with tremendous dynamics. The section in the bridge that starts around 2:13 has been one of my favorite iterations of that motif since high school, and it still packs the same punch.

Later on, I Betray My Friends, the first song I remember hearing by them shows up and this where the level of production becomes very apparent. I would happily have purchased the original tracks on vinyl (and if you purchase the album, you get all of the original songs as wav files) and wasn’t quite sure what to expect with them redoing the entire thing, but man Shane killed it and while it is possible that they are playing new versions of parts on guitar (it’s been a long time, I wouldn’t be shocked if they had trouble remembering and relearning everything) the crystal clear interplay of little guitar licks that I never had noticed before put this over the top.

The album closes with Sweet Release, which was my favorite song on their posthumous release, their proggiest effort which was a precursor to what they would perfect in Hero of 100 Fights. A growing theme on this website is hearing guys singing now while in their 40s and 50s and sounding so much better than when they were 22. The same is here for the vocals on this release. They haven’t lost their growl but lost is the sloppy out of tune whining that had a presence on the original recordings. This song is over seven minutes and so dark! Did I mention how dark it is?

You can purchase this album on vinyl from Expert Work Records via bandcamp. I highly recommend it.

FIVE DARK STARS!

Record Review: Moiii : s/t

This record arrived a few weeks ago from someoddpilot records and it’s a beauty. A project between two people, including my old friend, Scott Shellhamer, known as a killer drummer with both Tetsuo and Ghosts and Vodka while also knocking people on their ass with heavy ass guitar riffs in American Heritage. Working alongside him is Jason Butler, who has been putting out records under the name Thee Conductor, a project between him and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. If you’ve heard either of their previous work, it seems like it is going to be an interesting mix, with Scott’s penchant for chaotic noise contrasting with Jason’s gorgeous pop sensibilities. The results are astounding.

Right from the get go you can tell this is going to be difficult and the tick tock sounds mixed with industrial noise reminds me of the dread of going to work in a previous life. Years upon years of beatings.

Then a pause. Maybe we got out of this one alive.

Not so fast.

It sounds like a mix of a black and white propaganda film rumbling through all of the instrumental interludes on dark side of the moon. I have had dark side on mind a lot lately, so that may just be some confirmation bias, but it’s hitting me now and that’s all that matters.

The sequence of tracks flow very well. This is a soundtrack to a film that probably rules but hasn’t been made yet. Maybe like if Trans Am had done the soundtrack to Tron 2 instead of Daft Punk (I was not impressed).

Track 3 Shhhhhhhhhhhhh takes us to a new territory, borrowing from the Thrill Jockey circa 1999 catalog with a new spin, as it melts into what sounds like Genesis trying to mock Black Sabbath instead of King Arthur of the Roundtable or whatever the hell it is they’re trying to do (and I am impressed).

You Won’t Be Alive to Feel It continues the cinematic excitement, with the rhythm track being led by the quick breaths of some type of creature. Not surprisingly soon after writing that I remembered that they made an actual video for this one, so I may be once again falling victim to my mind. Regardless, it’s a blast. Synth heavy industrial trash that doesn’t try to get too cute, just pummels you instead. View the video here.

Scarab of Ra sounds like a totally different band, but the same band somehow. Very dark bass synths and pads repeat a basic melody as the dread builds. My brain wanders to Lost Highway, as this almost would have fit better than the Bowie stuff. I can hear someone’s mind melting in the background of this track and the cause could have been their murder of of Dick Laurent. I shit you not the last song is called Motion Picture and builds off Scarab of Ra, almost an outro to the previous song and the entire album. It never lets up.

This one probably sounds insane on headphones. Remind me to do that next time.

You can purchase it from bandcamp directly from the band, and I highly encourage it. Click here.

FIVE STARS!

Record Review: DEEP TUNNEL PROJECT : s/t

My first review is fitting, as the whole idea for this website came from me gushing over it to a group of friends. It is the self titled debut from Deep Tunnel Project, featuring my friends John Mohr and Mike Greenlees (known for their work together in both TAR and Blatant Dissent) Tim Midyett (currently also with Mint Mile and known for his time in Silkworm, Bottomless Pit and as a touring member of Sunn O)))) and Jeff Dean whom I do not actually know but met once and seems like a lovely gentleman. Jeff has played in a ton of bands and a quick look at his discogs page tells me that was in the Chicago band “the story so far” that I remember sharing the stage with many times in the early 2000’s playing to fives of tens of people.

The album kicks off with Connector, which opens with Mike playing a heavy ass laid back beat similar to the gold standard, When the Levee Breaks. As the song develops, so many little things start to stand out with every repetition. The snare drum sounds so good. Massive guitars without sounding fake. Like everyone I know that has gotten older, somehow John’s voice has gotten better. The mesh of dour, beautiful guitars over a rock solid rhythm section elicits Jawbox in a relaxed fashion, a way that they could never do it which is insane. Think of how pretty and heavy that is. You end this song knowing that you’re in for something special. Such a ballsy choice to start it off.

As you wade through each solid track, this record hits me like Novelty era Jawbox, an album right next to the Los Crudos/Spitboy split LP completely knocked me on my teenage ass and changed the way I tried to make music. But it’s not like Novelty though. It’s so Chicago, not DC. A better writer could explain. Next album I’m putting out: This is Chicago, Not DC.

Track 5 the Grid hits me hard because while it’s not in any way a reference to the Sirs song, Burlesque it shares a vibe and chord change and it makes me realize how both John and Rob Warmowski could come to the same endpoint separately in a song so proud to worship the city of Chicago. It makes me sad he isn’t here it, but he’s in there. It led me to go back and listen to the first SIRS album that featured the same Mike Greenless on drums (before I took over for him) and marveled at how awesome it was to get to play with those guys on those amazing songs. I took it for granted. What an honor and what a great time, thanks Rob and thanks to Steve for suggesting I take over for Mike when Rob reached out for advice.

Gold Standard has maybe my favorite lyrics of any song I’ve heard in ages. All while another simple single chord jangler for minutes just trusting the melody. Look at the header of this website. My thoughts were explained there. Trusting yourself, trusting the song. Adults in the room, the whole deal.

Dry Spell is buried at the end but has the lushest quasi chorus where my incredible friend Tim Midyett absolutely puts on a bass clinic without sounding like he’s trying. The tastiest bassline under a sad wash of chords and buried vocals. It borders on Interpol and I mean that as a compliment. I would guess they may be more inspired by My Dad is Dead but who knows. The song winds down with the closest thing to sounding like a revolution summer “talkie” over an octave slowdown. Every move is the right move.

The album closes with a cover of Took a Hammering by Rifle Sport and you’re now on track eleven and you guy “holy smokes how have I not noticed how incredible this drummer is” and it’s a normal response because Mike is so smooth and machine like, you can’t help but fall under a spell. Be prepared for him to shrug after the set and say “I don’t know, I’m not good at this anymore.” What a goofball.

This album was recorded beautifully by Matt Barnhart, mixed impeccably by J Robbins (of the oft mentioned Jawbox) and mastered by the best in the business, Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service.

The album was released on Comedy Minus One and can be purchased on their website via the following link.

FIVE STARS!