GAS, Rausch
[Kompakt]
Grade: B
There is a “GAS thing”: monochromatic picture of a forest on the cover, no track names (just “[Album Title] + [Number],” and then a fog of swooning, pulsing ambient music stretching for an hour or so therein. The saga seemed to be complete with 2000’s effervescent Pop, until last year’s pitch-black Narkopop announced the return of Wolfgang Voigt’s signature project, 17 years later. Rausch picks up right where Narkopop left off. The new effort—pointedly intended to be listened to in a single sitting—finds a pulse early on that almost never ceases, with Voigt filtering in guitar plucks that hit like wind chimes. Narkopop’s cloud of uneasy brass and strings seethes in and out throughout; the longest track, “Rausch 3,” hits a stride that could almost be described as funky, with languorous synthesizers swirling overheard. GAS records are pointedly unflashy, but there’s little else out there that does what they do as well. Voigt could put out one per year or one every 17 years, and they’d all still be essential listening, assuming you’re into the “GAS thing.”
RIYL: Tim Hecker. Angelo Badalamenti. Huerco S. Hallucinatory walks through the German countryside.
Start here: The album is really, really supposed to be taken as a whole piece, but why not hop in at the aforementioned “Rausch 3,” which, over the course of 14 minutes, roughly simulates the experience of being digested by a whale. [Clayton Purdom]
OOOOO & Islamiq Grrrls, Faminine Mystique
[Nihjgt Feelings]
Grade: B
OOOOO (the unfriendly moniker of electronic producer Christopher Dexter Greenspan) and the German-born Muslim musician known only as Islamiq Grrrls both occupy the same hazy, forlorn headspace. Greenspan’s cavernous trap beats and blurry synths got him tagged into the fleeting subgenre “witch house,” but songs like 2010’s “Hearts” also evoked Islamiq Grrrls’ self-described “sad disco” in their dreamy, Donna-Summer-at-half-speed smears. Faminine Mystique finds them navigating those lovelorn, late-night feelings together, even when taking individual approaches. Greenspan’s solo tracks bring witch house’s roots in (and influence on) hip-hop full circle by drowning in watery, Auto-Tuned vocals, suggesting Travis Scott in a 4 a.m. codeine fugue. On “Yr Love” and “You Don’t Love Me,” Islamiq Grrrls floats her sleeping beauty of a voice—reminiscent of Kedr Livanskiy or Chromatics’ Ruth Radelet—over somber techno-pop. Promisingly, their true duets “All Of Me” and “The Stranger” offer the album’s best moments, bringing in bursts of twangy spy guitar for a vintage Portishead vibe. There are more dynamics in sound (including some half-serious ’80s power ballad guitar solos and free-jazz sax) than there are in mood, but it’s an often-intoxicating one to wallow in.
RIYL: The drunk and self-pitying side of Drake, Future, et al. Dummy-era Portishead. 808s And Heartbreak. Late nights and cough syrup. Cigarettes and silence.
Start here: “Yr Love” is the album’s grabbiest, but “All Of Me” is most representative of the duo’s combined strengths in its hypnotic, haunted-trip-hop grooves. The lyric “I wish that you would call me and say that you want me / ’Cause my life is really sad right now” serves as a thesis statement for the overall tone. [Sean O’Neal]
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks, Sparkle Hard
[Matador]
Grade: B+
Over Stephen Malkmus’ career, the slacker-rock guitar-slinger has most often been described as “cryptic.” Godspeed to those seeking to interpret exactly what he means with his fractured phrases—with some tunes, you might as well be dissecting Mulholland Drive. Sparkle Hard, his seventh album with The Jicks, doesn’t ditch that mystery completely, but it’s surprisingly tender and open at times. “Future Suite” bounces along with noodling that recalls the Dead, as Malkmus urges, “Be a song of elation.” The fuzzy “Bike Lane” takes on the death of Freddie Gray, while “Solid Silk” sweetly evokes making out under a prairie moon. Sonically, it’s economical even in the wildness typical of his songwriting—dreamy strings, country twang, guitar freak-outs, and Auto-Tuned vocals all stride comfortably aside each other, never overstaying their welcome. Sparkle Hard is Malkmus at his most compelling: balancing his experimental whims while revealing pieces of his arcane heart.
RIYL: Pavement. Tasteful guitar noodling. Getting high in a responsible way.
Start here: There are more striking moments on Sparkle Hard, but “Middle America” and its poppy, kicked-back sway winds with such an easy gait that it feels like getting lost in a daydream. It showcases Malkmus’ breezy gift for melody, bright and unadorned. [Matt Williams]
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