News
Entertainment
Science & Technology
Life
Culture & Art
Hobbies
News
Entertainment
Science & Technology
Culture & Art
Hobbies
Over the past several years, founder Chris Schlarb has made Big Ego into a community-driven, artist-centric (and remarkably affordable) hub, the likes of which are lamentably few and far between. The label’s output is packed with gems, many of which bring together a murderer’s row of Los Angeles-area musicians to create records that are deeply imaginative, carefully crafted and utterly unique. Here, we’ve gathered a baker’s dozen of recommended listens — just a small sampling of what the Big Ego universe has in store.
Haruomi Hosono’s second solo effort, Tropical Dandy, now released as a standalone album for the first time in the U.S., shows the bassist and bandleader moving on from his folk-rock beginnings. A complex, eccentric and deeply committed commentary on exotica, sonic simulacra and tropical vibes, it’s full of contradictory constructions and proud artificialities that tap into something deeper than the merely real.
Twenty years after its release, Seu Jorge's The Life Aquatic Sessions continues to age gracefully. The beautiful sevenths and ninths chords, the breezy romanticism of the Portuguese language, and Jorge's balmy croon transmute Bowie's grandiose productions into a tropical oasis of pianissimo revelations. These alterations don't distract from the source material as much as they enhance it, revealing the universality of Bowie's Ziggy Stardust era. What was written as British glam-rock anthems work just as well as Brazilian samba numbers, and vice versa.
Following a brisk but rewarding detour with last year's instrumental offering Grand Jardin, French multi-instrumentalist Julien Gasc makes a triumphant return with his fifth full length Perles, coraux & requins. Recorded and produced by Anton Newcombe (The Brian Jonestown Massacre) and featuring musicians like Stereolab's Tim Gane, Gasc's signature knack for songwriting lies in the airiness of chanson pop traditions, transmuted with twisting, layered compositions. Like fresh air after a dip in the saltwater, these compositions demonstrate a remarkable musician (still) at the top of their game.
Welcome back to Aquarium Drunkard Transmissions. Our guest this week is Marissa Anderson. Last month, she released her 10th album, New Radiations, via Sacred Bones Records. She joins us to discuss cinema, working life, and her relationship with heavy music.
This month marks the fortieth anniversary of the debut album from World Standard, the avant-pop moniker of wunderkind musician Soichiro Suzuki. Also an accomplished and passionate music writer (including the Mondo Music series on exotica and lounge music), Suzuki joined us from his home in Japan for a wide-ranging conversation about his varied musical and writing career, now spanning four decades. Among the topics discussed include formative influences like Penguin Cafe Orchestra, deriving inspiration from David Lynch and Twin Peaks, his long running collaboration with Hauromi Hosono, creating music for tinnitus sufferers, giving talks and lectures on The Beatles in Japan, dissecting pop music with Jim O'Rourke and much more.
Making good (and then some) on the promise of their debut, Secular Music Group’s Volume 2 is a gorgeous jazz fantasia that beautifully brings together Sun Ra, Jewel in the Lotus and the European Library Music tradition under one expansive umbrella. The Connecticut-based ensemble records everything analog, live and direct to a four-track machine — an approach that might seem unnecessarily fussy at first. But the results are impossible to argue with.
Fittingly, I happened upon Winter McQuinn and his associated Melbourne scene right around the time I was visiting Australia in 2023 and have kept rapt attention since. McQuinn’s third album Where Are We Now? is set to drop later this month, via the Sydney based Third Eye Stimuli Records, and with it his first Lagniappe Session. Here, McQuinn works up a full band arrangement of the autumnal 2017 Anna St. Louis chestnut "Fire," before digging into Charles Brown's "On The Corner" and Roger Miller's 1973 adventure in animation courtesy of Robin Hood's "Oo-De-Lally."
Via 2006, back by subscriber request as Autumn approaches. L.A. Burnout is made up of the sounds floating around Los Angeles in the late ’60s and ’70s. A faded aural imprint of the canyons, beaches, wildfires, neighborhoods, late-nights and early mornings of a bygone L.A. Play this mix around dusk while driving through Topanga with the windows rolled down – it’s the next best thing to time travel.
Right on the heels of his gorgeous instrumental outing Music for Writers, Steve Gunn returns to his songwriting realm with Daylight, Daylight, a new album out November 7 on No Quarter. Enlisting longtime confidante James Elkington as producer and primary collaborator, Gunn sent demos of the album’s seven songs to his co-conspirator, giving him carte blanche to adorn them with string and woodwind arrangements, later brought to life by Macie Stewart (violins and viola), Ben Whiteley (cello), Nick Macri (upright bass), and Hunter Diamond (woodwinds). What results is an absolute masterwork, one of the finest additions to Gunn’s already laudable catalog.
Fletcher Tucker has been enmeshed with the landscape of Big Sur for most of his life, first as a visitor in his youth, and, for the last 15 or so years as an inhabitant of the land. But his sense of deep-seeded wonder for the place remains undiminished, and it's glowingly evident on his latest recording, Kin, featuring seven songs that expand and contract with animistic intent.
Herbal Tea’s Helena Walker bills herself as a folk artist, but her latest album hews closer to the slowcore 1990s dreamscapes of artists like Mazzy Star, Mojave 3 and Cocteau Twins. The artist, out of Bristol, UK, builds shimmering mirages of sound out of altered guitar, piano, synths and the kind of edgeless, weightless soprano
We wrapped up the first season of our All One Song podcast last week, bringing to an end a summer’s worth of heady conversations with some great musicians and writers about their favorite Neil Young tunes (and much more). And in a pleasing bit of synchronicity, Neil himself showed up in Denver a few days later to play his first show in Colorado in almost a decade—and we were there to witness it.
For one reason or another, Jerry David DeCicca has been on his knees since he was born. Crawling, praying, begging, looking for cheap records. He lost the best years of his life lurking and sort-of working in record stores. The alphabetized bins were filled with genred gems decorated in dollar signs that exceeded his hourly wage. So, it was the Dollar Bins, usually on the floor covered in dust mites (or worse), where he found classics on the cheap. And he still does! Times have changed, but there's a lot of great records out there that can still be had for very little money. You just have to crouch down and give them a chance.
Lucrecia Dalt has spent the better part of the last decade crafting some of the most quietly ecstatic sounds in experimental music. The new album by the Colombian-born, Berlin-spun, US-based artist finds her the most content with her own creative process, weaving together the intimate and the vast, the conceptual and the personal, the intellectual and the sensual, with imperative freedom. Recorded in the high desert of New Mexico, A Danger to Ourselves breathes with the expansiveness of the surrounding landscape and her own avant-garde influences while remaining tethered to pop song forms and to the self-centrifugal experiences of love, eroticism, romance, and loss.
The quietly revolutionary Talk Talk singer made one final album before calling it quits: his self-titled solo album debut, from 1998. While often overshadowed by the majestic experimentation of his former project’s late work, Mark Hollis harbors its own secrets and surprises, while building upon the work those albums began. As a final testament, it’s a fitting paradox, full of roaring silences and whispering explosions, a collection of whisper-thin abstractions that have been annealed into something durable and concrete.
Over a loosely persistent drumbeat, thumping strings, and bright fantasia synths, Anastasia Coope chants of falling castles and coveted truths on “Pink Lady Opera,” the first song shared from her forthcoming DOT ep, out this Halloween, and her first new piece of music since her excellent 2024 debut, Darning Woman.
The throughline of their vast body of work is Rob Mazurek and Chad Taylor’s commitment to the Chicago Underground project, the origins of which date back to 1998. Sometimes morphing into Chicago Underground Trio, or most recently as Chicago Underground Quartet with guitar player Jeff Parker and saxophonist Josh Johnson on 2020’s jazz-centric Good Days, Mazurek and Taylor inevitably return to each other as simply Chicago Underground Duo with Hyperglyph.
While there is no shortage of online scholarship about My Bloody Valentine, Turn My Head Into Sound is the first published biography of the group and its visionary founder, Kevin Shields. Taken with Mike McGonigal’s entry in the 33 1/3 series that focuses strictly on the band’s landmark album Loveless, and the various books and documentaries dealing with the band’s record label, Creation Records, we now have as comprehensive a picture of Shields and his activity between 1985 and the present as we are likely to get.
While on tour in Boise two years ago, Hayden Pedigo found himself mesmerized by the performance from local opener and Idaho native Jens Kuross. Conjuring thoughts of rarified accomplishments like Arthur Russell's transformative World of Echo, the Woodsist debut of former session musician Kuross is a deliberate attempt to recapture that intimate setting in recorded form. The emotional sparseness and stripped down, electric piano compositions register Crooked Songs as a landing spot for the beginning of a bountiful second act for Kuross.
As a record collector, some albums exist more like myths than tangible objects. You come across a passing mention, just enough to spark curiosity, and soon you’re chasing shadows, trying to confirm whether the record even exists. About 15 years ago, this happened to me with a record called Modern Bible, a recording deep from the Japanese underground credited to an Angura theatre troupe named Gekidan Buraiha (“Gekidan” being a Japanese word for “theatre troupe”).
Just like Elvis Presley, Ricky Nelson, and Dean Martin before him, Roy Orbison attempted to cross-pollinate his musical career with screen acting via the western genre. But unlike the aforementioned singers, Orbison's time as a matinee idol would be short-lived, producing only one film: Michael D. Moore's The Fastest Guitar Alive (1967).
The post-Kikagaku Moyo universe expands with the release of soft shakes, the solo debut from Go Kurosawa, the disbanded Japanese quintet’s drummer and vocalist. The second solo release from a member of the now defunct band, following Tomo Katsurada’s Dream of the Egg EP last year, soft shakes finds Kurosawa, who is also a co-founder of the excellent Guruguru Brain label, remaining largely true to his former outfit’s sound while also injecting his own sandcastle style of playful eclecticism.
It’s Aquarium Drunkard’s Book Club, our monthly gathering of recent (or not so recent) recommended reading. In this month’s stack: the labyrinthian life and career of one Mac Rebennack, aka Dr. John the Night Tripper, the rise, fall, and resurrection of Beach Boy Brian Wilson, a deep dive into the revolution in rhythm and sound that is Jamaican dub and reggae, a wild ride through the NYC underground, from Fluxus to free jazz, and the first installment in Rachel Cusk's critically acclaimed trilogy The Outline.
An absolutely wicked, top-ranking slab of primo mid-70s dub from King Tubby. Ranging from the hard-driving squelch of “Dreada Dread Dub” and “Roman Soldiers of Dub” to the trailing twinkle of “Suzie Wong Dub” it’s easy to imagine keyboardist Touter Harvey stepping onto the Mothership and tapping in for Bernie Worrell. Filtered through Tubby’s arsenal of echo, flying hi-hat, and other flick-of-the-wrist console wizardry, these dubs are heavier than two tons of high grade in the sunshine, and they’ll linger straight through to next summer.
In 1970, Graham Nash made the Chateau’s Bungalow 2 his home for five months, describing it as “a great place to hide,’’ following the dissolution of his relationship with Joni Mitchell. Nash would return five years later, posting up in the hillside’s Bungalow 3 with David Crosby to woodshed and polish material that would make up their second collaboration together as a duo, Wind on the Water — an album which turns 50 next month.
Welcome back to All One Song, a Neil Young podcast presented by Aquarium Drunkard Transmissions. We’ve spent the summer talking with some great musicians and writers about the strange and wonderful Neil Young universe. And we’ve had a good time. But all good things must come to an end! After today’s episode, we are handing the keys back to Jason P. Woodbury, the host of Transmissions and editor of Aquarium Drunkard. He’s got an incredible season of interviews coming your way as summer turns to fall. And speaking of Woodbury, he joins us today to discuss the lost Neil classic "When Your Lonely Heart Breaks."
When we last checked in with Jack Cooper’s Modern Nature, he and his band were drifting into territory that suggested ambiance over sturdy form on 2023’s No Fixed Point in Space. But with the rhythm section of bassist Jeff Tobias and drummer Jim Wallis augmented by new guitarist and vocalist Tarra Cunningham, the UK band’s latest, The Heat Warps, finds Cooper in the most guitar centric zone he’s explored since the heyday of his old indie rock band Ultimate Painting.
Jessica Risker lets the sunshine into her delicately folky, faintly psychedelic songs, but that sunshine casts a shadow. The Chicago-based songwriter bubbles and charms amid droning kraut propulsion while the cover of her second album depicts the artist in an upper floor of a weathered city building, holding helium balloons, and that about sums it up. Risker floats weightless fantasies from urban grit and realism.
In this installment: The fading artistry of the billboards of the Sunset Strip. Late summer sounds spanning sunshine psych-pop to Mexican no wave. Crosstown car jams of late. The great Terence Stamp. The American analog to Oasis. Stevie Wonder in 1974 and more. The comments are open.
It's near impossible to discuss midcentury crooners without mentioning Johnny Hartman. His tender approach to balladeer vocals epitomizes the post-war era of American jazz singers; his rich baritone is the sonic wallpaper to smoky lounges and amber-hued clubs, where night owls relax on the axis of the wheel of life, "to get the feel of life from jazz and cocktails."
Live at Le Guess Who is exactly what the title suggests: a live recording from the much loved Utrecht experimental music festival documenting a single set from mighty Austin collective Water Damage. The band’s motto is “Maximal Repetition Minimal Deviation.” Its members pursue the collective liftoff that comes from grinding a riff down so hard that it turns into something else. “Reel 28” carries the faint echo of Oneida’s “Sheets of Easter.” Instead of one note, there are five, but the way that tight, repetitive discipline yields transcendence and expansiveness is exactly the same. This is music as mantra, blotting out mind chatter and opening passages to otherness.
The Leeds, UK group The Sorcerers have long excelled at making an irresistible brand of action exotica, cooked up from Sun Ra records, Ethio-jazz, Moondog minimalism and funky library grooves. The return of original keyboardist Johnny Richards, bringing with him a battery of vintage synths, gives their fourth album Other Worlds and Habitats an eerie, sci-fi glow and sprinkles everything in moondust. The result is an album of thick spacey global jams made up of vibes, horns, flutes, synths and one of the most rock solid rhythm sections out there.
East of the River Nile is a masterpiece of haunting and hazy ambience from Augustus Pablo (aka Horace Swaby), whose plaintive melodica leads waft through these dubbed-out instrumentals like fragrant and heady strains of ganja mist. Recorded at some of the most hallowed studios in Jamaica—Harry J’s, King Tubby’s, Channel One, and Black Ark—East of the River Nile boasts some serious dub royalty with master engineers like Errol Thompson, Sylvan Morris, Prince Jammy, and Lee Perry manning the console while the Barrett brothers, Robbie Shakespeare, Earl “Chinna” Smith, and The Upsetters are among the heavies throwing down the riddims.
An adventurous electroacoustic artist working in the tradition of Terry Riley and Laurie Spiegel, Isaac Sherman combines the refracted glow of L.A.’s ambient jazz scene with more tactile synth excursions. Though adroit at loop-based synth improvisation, Sherman has turned to tighter structures and more definite rhythms for his first proper album. Though its name suggests a concern with boundaries and demarcations, A Pasture Its Limits finds ways to make the territory it stakes out feel expansive if not endless.
When Japanese four-piece Happy End wanted to follow up their folk rock masterpiece Kazemachi Roman with their own slice of the "California sound" in 1972, they went about it the natural way. Show up at Hollywood's mythical Sunset Sound studio, equipped with a suitcase full of cash and a pearl (a special gift for the producer Van Dyke Parks). Though the language and cultural barrier proved challenging, Haruomi Hosono looks back on the sessions fondly. With a decisively mellow tone throughout, the final eponymous Happy End record recalls formative west coast influences such as Buffalo Springfield, while foreshadowing the innovative solo ventures of Hosono, Eiichi Ohtaki and Shigeru Suzuki.