#solarists

[fieriframes]

[Guy Fieri standing in a kitchen. Caption: These Solarists! He reminds me of a bookkeeper, preparing his accounts.]

[cerberusdailynews]

[SYSTEMS ALLIANCE] Elections in progress on Earth

via The Wards Courier Those regions of the human homeworld judged most recovered are choosing their legislators today in the planet’s first post-war elections. For Earth’s supreme rulers in the Systems Alliance Transitional Administration, today is an important milestone towards restoring their parliament and civilian government. Admiral Steven Hackett and the Systems Alliance Navy have presided over the affairs of Earth and her colonies since 2186. The military dictatorship arose out of necessity, as the trans-national Systems Alliance and its armed forces remained the sole standing organization on human-settled worlds after the Reapers’ cessation of hostilities. However, after seven years and one Five Year Plan, humanity is clamouring to return to the republican democracy model most frequently used to govern their affairs. Those regions on Earth that have been appraised as regaining 65% or more of their pre-War metrics are now given the responsibility of governing themselves once again. The Sixty Five Percent barrier refers to the critical threshold of pre-War conditions at which a given administrative region of an industrialized nation will generally be able to meet the minimal conditions for self sustainment. While the recovered regions choose their own legislatives and form their governments, the Systems Alliance will remain in full control of areas, both on Earth and the colonies, that are still rebuilding; a grating situation for the disenfranchised. Worlds like Watson and Terra Nova still contend with military rule, with no immediate plans for a similar return to civilian governance. The transient spacer population, who used to have a small number of seats in the pre-War parliaments, have also voiced their displeasure as receivers of obligations without representation after so many years. Back on the human homeworld, citizens and political parties are carefully exercising their newly restored rights. Political groups formed in the past years like Standard-Bearers -- pro-military social conservatives renowned for their members’ rebuilding efforts -- are capitalizing on the new reality of shifted borders and the contacts made across them. Members from old Systems Alliance parliamentary parties like the Earth-centric Solarists and Labour-Colonial have also mobilized in support of ideologically aligned regional parties.

[auditivesessions]

The Solarists - Cup of Tea

Genre: Indie Rock

Year: 2019

[randomindie]

[decanting-cerebral]

Listening Notes, Ultra-Brief (Pt. 139)

via Odyshape

PICKS

75 Dollar Bill, Olives In The Ears  (self-released)   bandcamp

In which an NY-based law clerk and a New Haven-born cancer diagnostic technician launch a lo-fi guitar/drum project inspired by Moorish griot wedding music, or so goes the press release. Sounds pretty dicey, no? And yet it works - even shreds. Maybe it helps that guitarist Che Chen once studied with Mauritanian master Jheich Ould Chighaly, or that drummer Rick Brown assembles his own rattletrap percussive devices like a latter-day Moondog. Maybe Arabic modes and desert blues translate easily to lo-fi guitar/drum projects, especially when two of the longer cuts were captured live in dingy cafes (just like Group Doueh!). Maybe nobody can go wrong covering Allen Toussaint’s “Yes We Can Can,” however lazed and rangy the arrangement. Received primitivism, if you’re fussy about things like that. Or how about Loren Connors with a backbeat and a head full of Tuareg?

Haitian Rail, Solarists  (New Atlantis Records)

Too many jazz/noise/metal/whatsis outfits wimp out somewhere along the way, relinquishing improv for mere riffage or abandoning speed for mere noodling. But this is sorta what 1985 Black Flag was capable of detonating on those rare moments Henry Rollins stepped away from the mic: dynamic skronk via shitty amplifiers. Assembled from a host of other noise bands that no doubt mean something to noise enthusiasts (Hyrokkin, Many Arms, Deveykus), Haitian Rail finds new guy Dan Blacksberg delivering trombone blats while Mostly Other People Do The Killing’s Kevin Shea holds down death-surf drumkit duties. That leaves plenty of space for two guitarists: Nick Millevoi going Sonny Sharrock gonzo, Edward Ricart playing acid-slash bass. The second number (“song,” haha) is a slow one. The others all lurch unto the metalloid breach - guitar conflagrations, drone pocket-symphonies, percussive bloodied bliss, one roiling hot mess.

NEAR PICK

Shabazz Palaces, Lese Majesty (Sub Pop)

When the indulgences get dialed back a wee bit, or a fluttering synth hook offers just enough structure to hold a track together (“Motion Sickness”), or private meanings get transformed into rallying cries (“I’m havin’ my cake / and I’m eating cake”) - that’s when this abstruse-like-that studio trip reminds you why smart folks thought Black Up might be the future of hip-hop. Elsewhere, this Allan Kaprow / Octavia Butler mélange (really, how else would you describe an “astral suite of recorded happenings”?) erratically consigns hooks/chorus to the dustbin with the sort of anti-commercial bohemianism more gently foretold by Ishmael Butler himself in Butterfly guise. Hip-hop then and now could use more boho weirdos, more Afrofuturists, more albums like Black Up. But when you brag “all of our stories told in codes,” it’s thoughtful to offer a few more jokes as good as “call me Ish”.

[odyshapemusic]

Listening Notes, Ultra-Brief (Pt. 139)

PICKS  

75 Dollar Bill, Olives In The Ears     (self-released)     bandcamp

In which an NY-based law clerk and a New Haven-born cancer diagnostic technician launch a lo-fi guitar/drum project inspired by Moorish griot wedding music, or so goes the press release. Sounds pretty dicey, no? And yet it works - even shreds. Maybe it helps that guitarist Che Chen once studied with Mauritanian master Jheich Ould Chighaly, or that drummer Rick Brown assembles his own rattletrap percussive devices like a latter-day Moondog. Maybe Arabic modes and desert blues translate easily to lo-fi guitar/drum projects, especially when two of the longer cuts were captured live in dingy cafes (just like Group Doueh!). Maybe nobody can go wrong covering Allen Toussaint’s “Yes We Can Can,” however lazed and rangy the arrangement. Received primitivism, if you’re fussy about things like that. Or how about Loren Connors with a backbeat and a head full of Tuareg?

 Haitian Rail, Solarists     (New Atlantis Records)

Too many jazz/noise/metal/whatsis outfits wimp out somewhere along the way, relinquishing improv for mere riffage or abandoning speed for mere noodling. But this is sorta what 1985 Black Flag was capable of detonating on those rare moments Henry Rollins stepped away from the mic: dynamic skronk via shitty amplifiers. Assembled from a host of other noise bands that no doubt mean something to noise enthusiasts (Hyrokkin, Many Arms, Deveykus), Haitian Rail finds new guy Dan Blacksberg delivering trombone blats while Mostly Other People Do The Killing’s Kevin Shea holds down death-surf drumkit duties. That leaves plenty of space for two guitarists: Nick Millevoi going Sonny Sharrock gonzo, Edward Ricart playing acid-slash bass. The second number (“song,” haha) is a slow one. The others all lurch unto the metalloid breach - guitar conflagrations, drone pocket-symphonies, percussive bloodied bliss, one roiling hot mess.   

  NEAR PICK

Shabazz Palaces, Lese Majesty     (Sub Pop)

When the indulgences get dialed back a wee bit, or a fluttering synth hook offers just enough structure to hold a track together (“Motion Sickness”), or private meanings get transformed into rallying cries (“I’m havin’ my cake / and I’m eating cake”) - that’s when this abstruse-like-that studio trip reminds you why smart folks thought Black Up might be the future of hip-hop. Elsewhere, this Allan Kaprow / Octavia Butler mélange (really, how else would you describe an “astral suite of recorded happenings”?) erratically consigns hooks/chorus to the dustbin with the sort of anti-commercial bohemianism more gently foretold by Ishmael Butler himself in Butterfly guise. Hip-hop then and now could use more boho weirdos, more Afrofuturists, more albums like Black Up. But when you brag “all of our stories told in codes,” it’s thoughtful to offer a few more jokes as good as “call me Ish”.