Pillowfight – s/t (Bulk Recordings, 2013)
We open with a creepy organ line that could be scavenged from some forgotten low budget horror film. A strutting beat kicks in over the top. A voice joins, purring a decisive kiss-off in a tone that makes it sound like a come-on. As we hit the chorus, a backing vocal bubbles up and creates a distant reflection of a call-and-response routine, pleading and and defeated and defensive, forming a perfect triangular tension of emotion, sound, and lyrical content – and that’s just the first song. From there, we’re adrift in an odyssey of mid-afternoon slow jams, tension-drenched ballads, and steady-burning hip-hop grooves.
The music of Pillowfight is provided by Dan The Automator (also known as the man behind Handsome Boy Modeling School, Dr. Octagon, Deltron 3030, and jillions of other unmissable musical endeavors). His production lays the foundation for vocalist Emily Wells, who flutters and roars through these twelve songs like a cyborg chanteuse on a heartbroken rampage. And the group is rounded out by Lateef The Truthspeaker (with his signature melodic MCing), and Kid Koala (who scratches and cuts and blurs all the elements together in a cloud of turntable wizardry).
It’s a soundtrack equally fit for scheming over cocktails in a dimly-lit nightclub or sipping lemonade in a backyard hammock. It never gets too sleepy or too raucous; the momentum smoothly swings from slow-burning to hip-shaking and back again. If you’ve ever felt in need of hook-laden Hip-Hop torch songs, then this is just the ticket. And if that’s not something you’ve ever considered, you should give it a spin – it might be exactly what your life is missing.
Pillowfight’s self-titled album is now available as standard and deluxe download editions, and on CD – the vinyl edition will be released in February, and is now available for pre-order. (We recommend the Amazon deluxe download, which includes instrumental versions of the full album as bonus tracks).
Karthala 72 – Diable Du Feu (Electric Cowbell Records, 2012)
A long-lost album by an unknown afro-funk act from the 70s, this is a deep and head-twisting dose of percussive psychedelic grooves that demands repeated listening. The lack of context actually adds to the magic – the music arrives fully formed, devoid of preconception, and simply winds its way into your headspace and your waking life.
The record kicks off with a half-minute intro that sets the mood, and from that point on, it’s a half-hour trip through realms uncharted, through heavy rhythmic constructions of copper and bone. Deep tones rattle through makeshift amplifiers, ramshackle electric guitars form melody lines that slowly constrict around you, like the soundtrack to a discotheque in a low-budget post-apocalyptic home movie. It’s freaky, funky, foreboding, and electrifying, sounds rustling through the undergrowth before blasting out toward oblivion. It’s music of necessity, of subliminal impulses, sounds generated through blood, sweat, and sheer determination and headed for transcendence.
The Karthala 72 album is now available as an Amazon download, or on vinyl from the Electric Cowbell storefront.
The Karthala stuff is awesome, thanks for the tip! Some of the stuff is harmonically quite a stretch from the usual Afro funk fare of that time. And “Triomphe Dieu De La Mer” is a good example of why a lot of “modern” club music sounds dated to me. Because, um, it is. 🙂