#daniel bachman

[dustedmagazine]

Daniel Bachman—When the Roses Come Again (Three Lobed)

Continuing the trajectory of his releases over the past few years, Daniel Bachman moves further into the world of musique concrete, this time around combining played, found, and manipulated sounds on a laptop. Named for a Carter Family song, the words of which provide the titles for the tracks, When the Roses Come Again is a densely layered and highly detailed recording. Snatches of often heavily treated fretless banjo (sometimes with slide-like effects, as on “Till the roses come again”) and guitar share space with other sounds apparently attributable to a mouth bow (a simple one-stringed instrument for which the mouth serves as a resonator), fiddle, and samples of bells and harmonium, though these are less obvious.

The tracks are generally concise (only two exceed four minutes), but they blend together into a kind of suite. There is a satisfying balance among those that are fairly noisy, bordering on industrial (though not aggressive), such as “As I wander, I will ponder,” those that are more melodic and less dense, such as “Happy hearts that feel no pain,” and those in which the emphasis alternates between texture and melody, such as “On a summer over yonder.” Nearly always, a drone of some sort either provides the background or dominates, and the electronics or treated sounds sometimes create a rhythm, as on the closing track. The resulting blend of sweeter, more bucolic tones with shimmering and percussive electronics is initially disconcerting but comes to feel organic, like a kind of palimpsest.

It’s been fascinating to observe Bachman developing his approach to Americana from Takoma school guitar excursions to the very modern sounds featured on his recent recordings. His increasing attention to the overt symbols of roots music exemplified by his use of Carter Family material has coincided with increasing incorporation of technology and its artifacts (such as the recurring buzzes, hums, and rattles heard here). Whereas last year’s Almanac Behind used a similar approach to address the weighty, almost suffocating issue of climate change, the focus here is personal, on the cycle of death and rebirth that defines existence. This is, in other words, still serious music, yet it is not necessarily somber. Probably not coincidentally, When the Roses Come Again provides the perfect soundtrack for a drive through a land of woods, farms, and small towns dotted with Dollar General stores and cell towers.

Jim Marks

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

STOP MVP: Artists From WV, VA & NC Against The Mountain Valley Pipeline / Measure, Pour & Mixtape: Music for Cooking

Two outstanding comps for your consideration! First up, we've got the Daniel Bachman-curated STOP MVP, which is raising funds for the Appalachian Legal Defense Fund in support of people fighting against the construction of the Mountain Valley Pipeline. A worthy cause! The music here leans in the avant-folk direction, but it also dips into hip-hop, alt-country, ambient and more. Some familiar favorites appear — Nathan Bowles, Yasmin Williams and Bachman himself — alongside plenty of new-to-me talents; I love the dreamy pedal steel swoops of the Skyline Boogie Boys in particular.

There's a bit of artist crossover on Measure, Pour & Mixtape — the great Sally Anne Morgan and Magic Tuber Stringband, for instance — along with such ringers as Michael Hurley, Avey Tare and Lou Turner. Curated by Spinster Sounds' Emily Hilliard, MPM takes a revealing look at the intersection of food and music. "What would an audio recipe sound like?" asks Hilliard. "How is a recipe like a musical score?" The answers from the musicians here are imaginative, inviting and sometimes weird. A perfect blend of flavors.

[oldwinenewbottles]

Digging into the Archives, UVA Library Brings Old Folksong Recordings to Light

"Using the latest recording technology available to him in the 1930s – aluminum discs – University of Virginia English instructor Arthur Kyle Davis Jr. recorded hundreds of traditional folksongs and ballads from Virginia residents, mostly in the Appalachian region.

His work for the Virginia Folklore Society created one of the earliest collections of its kind in North America, including some of the earliest recordings of African American musicians in the state.

Now, the University Library has made 173 of those discs – containing nearly 700 songs – available online, digitizing the recordings with support from a grant from the “Recordings at Risk” program, funded by The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation and administered by the Council on Library and Information Resources."

Anne E. Bromley, UVA Today

Daniel Bachman told me about this project a year or so ago; I'm glad that the work he and his colleagues have done is now reaching the public. Listen to some of the recordings here or view the Virginia Folklore Society records here.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Live Picks: 8/24

Daniel Bachman; Photo by Greta Svalberg

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Spanish-language shoegaze, beats, Americana, industrial metal, classic rock, jam psych, film score, and far-out instrumental guitar music: all tonight!

MINT FIELD, Beat Kitchen

Pasar De Las Luces is the 65-minute debut from Tijuana shoegaze duo MINT FIELD, the project of Estrella Sanchez and Amor Amezcua. It’s a record with discernible instrumental elements that combine to create a mood rather than a concrete point. The wordless singing and fuzzed out guitars of “Ojos En el Carro” instill melancholy, while the charge-up of songs like “Cambios del Pasar” or the motorik “Quiero Otoño de Nuevo” embrace nostalgia for a certain era of alternative music. 

Local new wave/goth pop band DoubleSpeak and indie poppers Tiny Fireflies open.

Prefuse 73, Empty Bottle

Ambient alt hip-hop head Guillermo Scott Herren--aka Prefuse 73--released some of the best IDM of the early 2000′s. He’s still prolific, having released two EPs and an album in 2015 (Rivington Não Rio, probably his best since 2003′s beloved One Word Extinguisher) and, most recently, another album this year in Sacrifices. While his most recent effort is middling in comparison to the excitement his early material brings, he’s still a fascinating and worthwhile live performer.

Rapper Mike co-headlines. SiP, a project from synth wizard Jimmy Lacy, opens.

Alejandro Escovedo & Joe Ely, Old Town School of Folk Music

Longtime Americana buddies Alejandro Escovedo and Joe Ely play together tonight. Escovedo’s got a new album The Crossing out next month (Ely plays on it). West Texas-heavy Panhandle Rambler was Ely’s most recent album until last week, when he released The Lubbock Tapes: Full Circle. The set should cover all over both men’s discography with few if any recent tunes.

Godflesh, Metro

Godflesh came roaring back in 2014 after a 13 year album-less streak with A World Lit Only By Fire. Late last year, they followed it up with Post Self, which was even better, the industrial metal of the title track kicking off an album that’s more noisy and punk than laden with heavy riffs. They should play much of it tonight at Metro with a few classic tracks thrown in for good measure.

Local straight edge hardcore punk band Harm’s Way, industrial metal duo Mirrors for Psychic Warfare, and Ledge open.

The Beach Boys, Ravinia

No Brian Wilson? No problem for The Beach Boys! Not just because Wilson’s not worth seeing anymore, but because John Stamos is playing with The Beach Boys. Just kidding (not about Stamos, who is appearing--kidding about Stamos being the reason). In actuality, the band’s got undeniable classics and are always worth seeing as long as some original members are there.

The Righteous Brothers open.

Gov’t Mule, Hollywood Casino Amphitheatre

Jam band Gov’t Mule’s last album was 2017′s acclaimed Revolution Come...Revolution Go. Tonight, though, they’ll bring Dark Side of the Mule to Tinley Park, covering Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon the only way they know how: with crazy lights and monster jams.

Alt country band The Avett Brothers co-headline. Rock band/Black Crowes offshoot The Magpie Salute opens.

"Salomé" Live Score by Haley Fohr, Art Institute of Chicago

In our interview with Matchess, we mentioned that Whitney Johnson would be participating in the live score performance of Salomé, written by frequent collaborator Haley Fohr of Circuit des Yeux. Well, that’s tonight! The two perform along with double bassist Andrew Scott Young and drummer Tyler Damon. 

Daniel Bachman, Hideout

Guitarist Daniel Bachman released his most serene record yet in 2016, a self-titled album. He recently returned with The Morning Star, a 75-minute meditation of personal and political reflection. The improvisational and jarring “Invocation” opens the record with heady cacophony blending into hypnotic drones. “Sycamore City” abandons his studio wizardry for spontaneous-sounding field recordings that beautifully complement his trademark finger-picked guitar. He strays from the guitar a little bit on The Morning Star--juxtaposing fuzzy AM radio vocal samples with organ on “Car” and furthering his organ drone manipulation on closer “New Moon”--but the album still centers around his immaculate six-string, still very much the centerpiece of Bachman.

Bachman plays as part of Hideout’s Picnics on the Porch.

[everchangingminstrel]

'The Hired Hands' Recognizes Bruce Langhorne, One Of Modern Guitar's Hidden Heroes

Steve Gunn, Daniel Bachman, Lee Ranaldo, Susan Alcorn and Chris Corsano all appear on this double-album tribute to Bruce Langhorne's secretly influential 1971 soundtrack for The Hired Hand.

[dustedmagazine]

2023: Bryon Rides Anxiety’s Peaks and Valleys

Yo La Tengo

This year really tossed us all around like a gigantic blender, swirling everything together into a writhing mass of fine particles. It’s been quite the ride. Thankfully amidst the chaos, there was music. The vast cornucopia of exhilarating sounds wound itself around the many genres, and the dozens of releases spread across these twelve months. It provided the healing salve to combat the bedlam lying in the realm beyond our ears.

For me, live music in 2023 was about quality over quantity. The two shows that affected me most this past year were aligned along the theme of reunion. I’ve been a fan of Yo La Tengo since high school but had strayed from the band’s past few releases. This Stupid World brought me back into their universe. I jumped at the chance to see them in Toronto; it had been decades since I last saw them play live. They played two sets, one soft and one loud, and they didn’t disappoint. As an added bonus, I got to meet fellow Dusted writer Ian Mathers at the show. Toronto post-rockers Do Make Say Think played their first show in six years in March, around my birthday. I wasn’t going to miss it. They unleashed an enticing set of music, playing material from across their entire catalog with intense energy. It was hypnotic and exhilarating. They were also jovial, joking about the current career prospects of the band members. It was a fun night.

Many perennial favorite groups and artists released excellent albums this year. Yo La Tengo returned to their early Matador form with This Stupid World, while The Clientele expanded into new, lush and uncanny territory on I’m Not There Anymore. Califone’s Villagers pushed the band’s adventurous, bluesy roots-rock into an experimental wonderland. Bill Orcutt released Jump On It, revealing his softer side. The Live in Brooklyn 2011 set from Sonic Youth found the group trying out songs they rarely played live, as they wound down their decades-long existence. Joshua Abrams’ Natural Information Society showed that they’re not done unleashing mesmerizing sonic salvos with Since Time is Gravity. Finally, Daniel Bachman continued to push his singular brand of Americana toward the outer limits with When the Roses Come Again, and Intercepted Message found Osees covering Cisco Systems’ telephone hold music. It was a good year for long-beloved institutions.

New to me this year was the band Famous Mammals and their polyglot post-punk album Instant Pop Expressionism Now! I returned to it time and time again; it was the soundtrack to my late summer and my autumn. Digging deeper into the San Francisco band’s origins, I discovered a previously hidden world of Bay Area post-punk, populated by a tight-knit scene that originated with The World, which would fracture into Famous Mammals, Non Plus Temps, Blues Lawyer, Children Maybe Later and others. The LP in question blends elements of Swell Maps, Young Marble Giants and Television Personalities, aligning with those outfits’ brashness, naivete, and wry sense of humor. It was at the top of my list in 2023 and led me to explore the SF underground further. That digging led me to Will York’s encyclopedic tome Who Cares Anyway? York gives an in-depth perspective to the goings on in the Bay Area from the post-hippie origins of its punk scene to the self-destructive chaos of Flipper and the visionary artistry behind acts such as Mr. Bungle, Caroliner, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, et cetera. He also investigates the unique personalities that comprised the scene such as Brandon Kearney, Gregg Turkington, Seymour Glass, Barbara Manning, and Joe Pop-o-Pie. The book is worth exploring if you’re at all interested in any of the names I mentioned.

I always highlight at least one Canadian release, and this year I really got into the self-titled debut from Toronto duo You Can Can. The pairing of sound artist Andrew Zukerman and vocalist Felicity Williams is the perfect comingling of the familiar and the otherworldly. Alien soundscapes intercept beautifully crafted song forms, with synth squiggles and abstract patterns writhing alongside folk music signifiers. Let’s hope that You Can Can have more music in store for us in 2024 and beyond.

Bryon Hayes

[dustedmagazine]

Daniel Bachman—Almanac Behind (Three Lobed)

Almanac Behind by Daniel Bachman

Following the release of an EP of traditional guitar music (Lonesome Weary Blues, also on Three Lobed) at the beginning of the year, Daniel Bachman is back with a full-length, blending found sounds and manipulated noise with Takoma-school guitar and banjo playing in the manner of Morning Star (2018) and last year’s Axacan. This time, he delivers a series of relatively brief tracks that nevertheless have beginnings, middles and ends and follow a kind of narrative arc that encourages discussing them in sequence.

The liner notes indicate that the title is both an anagram of the artist’s name and an invocation of his concern about climate change. Accordingly, there is an apparent progression through the elements of air, water and fire followed by an uneasy resolution at the end. Throughout, noise and voices share space with music in ways that are sometimes complementary and at others confrontational. 

The experience begins with a barely perceptible electronic drone to which static and dribbles of treated guitar gradually adhere on a track titled ominously “Barometric Cascade (Signal Collapse).” The effect is immediately disconcerting as the ear and mind struggle to render the sounds more familiar—the static like a cymbal, the liquid guitar tone like an organ, and so on. The track gives way abruptly to a few seconds of field recordings of the AI voice of National Weather Service recordings (which returns at key moments throughout the record) and then abruptly to another track of static that sounds like a helicopter. Like the glitchy image on the cover, the play of noise and signal suggest both the inadequacy of the human response to the forces that drive global heating and human responsibility for unleashing them. 

The calming tones of a banjo on the fourth track feel like a refuge, though one windswept by static and overtaken by the “Supercell” of the next track. The storm, the threat of it, and its aftermath haunt the middle of the record. “Flood Stage,” one of the longer tracks at just over five minutes, builds with a blend of what sounds like electronics, a sruti box or fiddle and/or more treated guitar that swells like the waters about which the disembodied Weather Service bot has warned. 

The context shifts abruptly just over halfway through the record, with water giving way to its opposite in the form of a “Wildfire” sparked by the sound of a match, and “Think Before You Breathe” then hints at what is at stake. “When the Worlds [sic] on Fire” features more disembodied voices and what sounds like a cross between the “This Land is Your Land” and the Carter Family tune “Little Darlin’ Pal of Mine” on slide that grinds to a halt over bells. 

“Daybreak (in the awful silence)” brings more calming banjo, presented bare without the static in a respite from the chaos represented by the field recordings. The track serves as a transition back to the status quo initiated by “Grid Reactivation” and “Five Old Messages” (including the grimly humorous “Did you guys get storms today?”) from which music is absent. The narrative arc resolves in the haunting and grimly lovely closer “Reactivation-Normalization,” on which gentle fingerpicking blends with other warbly, somewhat ominous guitar tones swathed in static that gradually fade together. 

Overall, Almanac Behind is perhaps the most successful of Bachman’s “noise records” (though, in point of fact, his interests in this regard trace back through 2016’s self-titled release to his earliest recordings as Sacred Harp). The use of shorter tracks than the epic-length statements on Axacan and Morning Star gives this album a lighter, or, at least, more user-friendly feel, and the integration of the music into the static, drones and voices feels more organic to the compositions. Bachman continues to create some of the most distinctive and intellectual music in the Takoma school idiom, and the breadth of his vision is well represented by the pair of recordings with which he has begun and ended 2022. The future as he sees it seems murky and frightening but starred with tiny moments of beauty and understanding. 

Jim Marks

Thanks to untogether for pointing out that "The World's On Fire" is, in fact, the name of a Carter Family tune, which is, of course, why it was chosen for this point in the album. The melody resembles that of "Little Darlin Pal of Mine" and was among the many repurposed by Woody Guthrie.

[dustedmagazine]

Daniel Bachman — Axacan (Three Lobed)

Axacan by Daniel Bachman

Daniel Bachman floats in and out of his new album Axacan like a radio station broadcasting just on the outskirts of its signal range. Sometimes the guitarist comes in loud and clear; other times, his playing is fighting through a wall of static and sonic haze — and just as frequently, he disappears completely, with the sound of the natural world taking over only to be interrupted by stray bits of audio detritus.

This is not an unusual musical landscape in which to find this Virginia-based artist wandering of late. Morning Star, his 2018 release on Three Lobed, opened with a long suite that fed harmonium and fiddle drones into a pool of sound created by his 12-string guitar meanderings and the fuzz of an AM radio. And his 2012 cassette Tamun Shud found Bachman in a tug-of-war with drummer Ian McColm where both players fell in and out of focus. 

Axacan is, then, a continuation of those musical concepts with Bachman’s guitar receding further and further into the distance. Make no mistake, the instrument that he is most closely associated with remains a presence but the bulk of this album is taken up with soundscapes or experimental pieces. “Blue Ocean 0,” for example, is a stormy sea of clashing synth, harmonium, and fiddle overtones (all played by Bachman) with a background drone of what is apparently the sound of the wind blowing through a fishing line. Elsewhere,“Deep Adaptation” takes an already fuzzy field recording and what sounds like a piano and slows the tape way down. The resulting piece feels as if it is being emitted from miles below the earth’s crust. 

When Bachman does set the focus on the guitar, he emphasizes long strums and ringing tones rather than the fleet fingerpicking of some of his previous recordings. On “Year of the Rat,” he explores a single melody with the mind of a jazz improviser — speeding it up, slowing it down, starting the phrase and then quickly abandoning it for another idea. Or just quietly plucking out each note of the main chord to highlight the buzz of the steel strings. “Blues in the Anthropocene” wanes even further. Bachman’s gingerly played guitar passages are nearly subsumed throughout by static and insect chatter for nearly six minutes until a collage of field recordings pushes it aside completely. 

Bachman has reached an exciting stop along his musical evolution. He’s at that point where he keeps returning to the question “What’s next?” as a mantra. After mastering his instrument of choice, it’s a fair thing to ask. Bachman doesn’t try to answer that question on Axacan, but the music teases out a number of possibilities for this curious, restless artist to explore in the hopefully very near future.

Robert Ham