Tim Hecker and Mogwai Reviews

Tim Hecker-Ravedeath, 1972 (9.5)

A preconceived idea is a dangerous thing. To formulate barriers, to decide a deriding opinion before the fact, it is pure idiocy, tantamount to cultural lobotomy. It’s something that as a human race, we should strive to eradicate…but to pronounce judgement as judge and juror without first hearing the case is an all too human error.

It’s an inherent problem within music that an aficionado attached to a particular clique, a scene queen if you will, is set to pre-emptively strike down the notion that there is quality outside of their precious favoured genre. They must remain seen to be scene, to be seen as right. These people are dullards, vacuous slugs feasting on mediocrity and banality.

To purge yourself of this affliction, of which you will be blissfully unaware, is not a difficult process. Firstly, ask yourself truthfully if you have ever rejected a piece of music before hearing it, based on a pre-conceived idea that it is without merit. If so, then you must stop. You’re cutting yourself off from a wealth of music based on a preconceived notion that is devoid of fact. Renege this and embrace music for music’s sake. Begin here, with Tim Hecker. Begin with Ravedeath, 1972.

Using sound artefacts simply sourced from a pipe organ, situated within a haunting reverberant church space in Reykjavik, Hecker uses his tools to sculpt and layer these auditory moments to revelatory effect. Bass veritably groans from the titan’s mouth, sparkling shards ring through the air, offering something close to synaesthesia. Sounds are as snowflakes, no two the same. What you previously thought sonically possible is shattered. You realise your previous folly and step through the looking glass. You will follow this into the maelstrom and to perditions end.

Ravedeath, 1972 is out now on Kranky

Reviewed by Sam Thor Rhodes


Mogwai-Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will

When trying to illustrate the notion of the cult band, it’s not a ridiculous leap of intelligence to use Mogwai as an example. The Scottish outfit have operated mainly undetected from the radar of the mainstream, sporadically garnering praise, never having enough to bathe in the spotlight. They continually deliver albums without fanfare or proffering garish marketing trickery. Even without the need to use and abuse the media to promote their albums, their output is still seized upon by fans like ravenous canines. Small press, big impact - its cult defined - ‘Facta, non verba.’

Over their noted career, they’ve worked hard to push their collective nous into creating a landscape of sound, a terra firma representation of day to day life, its peaks and troughs, the swallowing holes of sadness, the mountainous elation of being truly happy. It may seem that a review of their music always relies on superlatives drawing on the epic, as if it’s something otherworldly. This couldn’t be further from the truth. This isn’t otherworldly; it’s wholly placed in the now, as blue collar as it comes. It’s just people forget to realise that their days are filled with something epic, the body regenerates, the sun rises and falls, the long odds of life just existing continue for another day.

Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will, a title that captures the album in perfection. The album is a juxtaposition, something eternal against something temporary, an eternal force bolstering a dissipating force…this is your world at its most dynamic and vibrant. It’s Mogwai’s year, but when isn’t it?

9/10. You’ll like this if you miss Slint, got excited over My Bloody Valentine reforming and basically have ears.

Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will is out now on Rock Action Records.

Reviewed by Sam Rhodes.