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Curor Recordings



Last Updated: 12/3/2009

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City: Brighton
Country: UK

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Friday, September 21, 2007 
Sweet expansivo-spatial "hinterland of the song form" brush-ups here from two cool bunches of highly sexed up weirdos brought to you by Brighton's Curor label, them what's also put out slabs by the Jazzfingers, Owl Xounds, Kylie Minoise, Family Battlesnake, etc. Recorded on a satisfyingly compressed and downright un-slicko set up, the recordings from both clans congeal and spurt and grind and drone with some heart-warmingly tender passages juxtaposed with a good deal of wet-lip delay-mulched perversion, plus backward shit thrown in as well, which always sounds sweet no-matter what you put through it. Actually some of this reminds me a little of some of the more languid Sunburned jams, but only some of it. Head straight for the last track if you want stretched bowed strings sliding off into the musky headlights of loved-up dusk – but even here, on what's perhaps the most normal sounding UK drone-style piece on the whole disc (if only for the first 4 minutes), there's elements that smear it above the usual fare of slap-your-butt and call me happy insta-ecstatic drone – the tapes, static, wind and vocals that sound like they're coming from a different room entirely give it a whole concentric lick of wasted improv zeal. It's tiny, humble and attractive, and it moves with a disorientation that's exacerbated by the quietly desperate vocal ribbons pulsing about somewhere behind you…

Back to the beginning, and mosquito-spit ash flakes flare up while a whole body of clamouring woodwind tries to escape up the chimney. First two tracks by Chora, the rest On Fire. Chora put up a more monolithic cosmic headspin with the longer, denser material, full of sharp attack and bird-baiting and the sheer joy of glockenspiels twisted round the alien landscape. "Another heel clicker" takes a more sanguine route at first, preferring to lay on undercurrents of spherical wows in perhaps more linear fashion, until the expansion naturally arrives with big mouth action and more colourfully harmonic turbine tape resonance. Chora prove accomplished, but it's On fire that really do it for me here, particularly with the sheer transgressive weirdness and lovely melodic freaksome moments of the penultimate track on the disc – the changes of pace and undulations of vocal and instrumental action give it by turns an addictive despondency and a weird cultic charm. The split as a whole is a great find, and each side hugs the other with flailing sultry arms of noise-joy. Edition of 50, snap it up. 7/10 -- Joe Luna (19 September, 2007)

http://www.digitalisindustries.com/foxyd/reviews.php?which=2775
Tuesday, September 04, 2007 
Plants That Kill - CDR

Some people can do more with one day at the rehearsal space on a cassette four track than others can do with several months at Sound City on the company dime. Plants That Kill was created by Sharon Cheslow, Weasel Walter, and Liz Allbee. It would take a phone book to list everyone they've collaborated with on other projects. I've seen this particular trio live twice and it is a treat to wash those memorable shows down with a "killer" CDR.Focused improvisation diced up a little in post production. Very Nice. (Steve Touchton)

http://www.dustedmagazine.com/features/637

 

Monday, September 03, 2007 
Reviews by Christian Llewellyn-Hardy at http://heavyvibes.blogspot.com/

Owl Xounds - Gypsy Monks on Holiday, c30

For those spirited heads who like their free-jazz with a touch of the cosmic, and their feet dipped wet with infinity, Owl Xounds' exuberant outer-space jams are as awesomely pleasing as they are wildly unpredictable. On "Gypsy Monks On Holiday," the usual Owl Xounds Exploding Galaxy duo of Adam Kriney (drums) and Gene Janas (upright bass) are joined by Mario Rechtern (saxophones, electronics) and Gene Moore (electric guitar). This high-bias C-30 boasts three sprawling live improvisations from two separate performances. The bombastic and wild-eyed "Sambs Samosa And The Circular Saw" and the brief attack of "We Are But Three Small Faces" were both recorded live at SUNY Purchase , NY on 2/19/7, while the organic mutant jazz "Are Those Your Graham Crackers From The Wiccan Ceremony Last Week?" was cut live one day earlier at the Flywheel in Easthampton, MA on 2/18/7. Mario Rechtern's saxophone threatens a savage mutiny on "Gypsy Monks..," but Adam Kriney is so at the top of this game on this one he's shot straight through Maslow's pyramid of needs and wants and wound up blasting somewhere through a stratosphere of technical wizardry. Keep an eye on Owl Xounds, these space-jazz cadets are headed somewhere brilliant, sparkling, and totally uncharted.

Liz Allbee/Sharon Cheslow/Weasel Walter - Plants That Kill, CD-R

A three-way collaboration between Liz Allbee, Sharon Cheslow, and
Weasel Walter, or the sound of a tropical disease as it seeps through your
pores, peeling away the last remaining layers of your earthly senses and
leaving only a caterpillar filled brain-case behind in Peruvian
nightmares? "Plants That Kill" is a now-wave trip into endless reverbrations
of Ayahuasca dreaming and toxic tropical free-jazz. An electric brew
of poisonous improvisations whose exotic variety of tone and colour
lure you inwards, just as the venom seizes your nervous system, leaving
you frozen in place, sweating to the sounds of an immense rainforest
totally indifferent to your desperation and impending decomposition.
Each of "Plants That Kill"'s ten tracks are named after a particular
sample of fatal flora, a concept credited to Liz Allbee. The cd's sleeve
art also reflects this concept, with a leafy green aesthetic that is as
enticing as it is forbidding. I'm completely blown-away by the music on
this disc, and I would be in a state of total shock if this cd didn't
sell-out soon.


Monday, May 14, 2007 

album cover

With a title like A Ride Across The Skies On A Knife Dipped In Blood, we had seriously high hopes for this compilation from UK microlabel Curor and we were not disappointed. A handful of familiar faces: Jazzfinger, Ben Reynolds, Number None, Peter Wright... but loads of groups new to us, most of which had is scrambling for our computers and hopping on the internet to track down more recordings by these weirdo noisemakers. Like all great comps. Ride Across functions simultaneously as a sort of mixtape sampler, as well as a surprisingly cohesive listen, considering how varied the sounds of these bands are. 
Some of the highlights include Atoms and their little tinkling flurries of guitar glimmer that morph into a slow melodic crawl, all tentative guitar and strange scrapes and creaks. Heidika, who unfurl warm soft tangles of finger picked acoustic guitar and minimal mournful strings, a laid back and wintry Appalachian folk with a subtle buzzing raga element. The super bizarre Injury Chic, one of the noisiest bands on the comp, kicking up dense swirls of harsh noise, laid atop simple percussive thump and clatter, with ultra distorted sung/spoken vocals, sounding like a modern co-ed Whitehouse. AQ faves Jazzfinger with a gorgeous slab of sound, all clattery clouds of looped piano, a strange mechanical rhythm laid over a murky, fuzzy seasick waltz, a bit like the the soundtrack to some strange Quay Brothers style animated film. Then there's the strangely named Family Battle Snake who spew forth a cavernous skreescrape of industrial whir and haunting alien FX. Maybe our favorite track on the record comes from Raised By Wolves beginning with militaristic martial snare, bits of guitar clang, all intertwined with ominous high end synth drones, with the drums getting more and more spastic and complex, like some dreamy droney cd-r outfit backed up by a skittery free jazz drummer, eventually erupting into a chaotic distorted blown out near-noise jam. Wow! Number None offer up their own bit of creeping grinding slow motion ambience, rumbling and moaning atmospheres, muted melodies, and occasional bursts of blown out guitar fuzz and glistening streaks of feedback. and the disc finishes off with another AQ fave, Peter Wright, who offers up another blissy expanse of serene drift, this time, heavy on the guitar, well, not 'heavy', but more guitar than usual for Wright, woven into dreamy cyclical melodies, all floating over long stretches of distant drones and rumbling swells, and that's not all. 
A killer comp and a whole bunch of new bands to get all obsessed with.
Monday, February 26, 2007 
Jazzfinger "Winter's Shadow Between Two Worlds"

British duo Jazzfinger has been shattering nerves for over seven years now, their take on drone being a lo-fi industrial assault that slowly rises from the boiler room to poke you in face. This eight song set features several long tracks that allow that tension and modulation to build, and nerves to split waiting for the inevitable wail. Sometimes it comes, other times you are just going to have to provide your own catharsis. Jazzfinger never leaves you without ammo, though.

"Rabbit Wolf Reflection" sounds like a call to prayer from a very sick church, its bells tolling in distortion, its beat erratic and mournful. "Roman Tide" builds off of an ambient drone that slowly pulls you right under the engine of an airplane, sucking you in with its white hot drone, like a violin bow pulled eternally.

The longer tracks, each over ten minutes plus–"Shadow Moose," "At First Wovey," and "Stare at Things" are nightmares. "Shadow Moose" features anguished muted voices pleading over what sounds like sonar gone mad; after the noisy tension of "Wovey" "Stare" offers some respite, though its hoipeful drone is no less abrasive. Challenging, confident, and defiant, Jazzfinger's latest is a big slab of alienated voodoo. 9/10 -- Mike Wood (16 January, 2007)

Raised by Wolves "Tipping The Grinning Monkey"

The final recording as a duo, drummer Andy Pyne (Puffinboy) and guitarist Matt Colegate is a brilliant blast of improv, that draws on complex Meat Puppets type chord progressions and the fury of Sonny Sharrock or Pete Cosey.

The fragile grooves of "Oh South Polar" are balanced by the rage of the short "Smoke Conjoined." "Pox Mockery" builds off a swampy rhythm and rises to a kind of sick rockabilly noise outburst. "All Young Calculators" is a harsh homage to William Hooker, while "Ever Pharoah" channels and Charles Gayle's righteous repetitive chanting. Lee Ranaldo fans will like Colegate's work here, the way his work builds off the percussion and overtakes it on the backend of the tunes. But the hero of the set is drummer Pyne, whose adventurism and grounded ear are always ground zero. 9/10 -- Mike Wood (23 January, 2007)
Thursday, November 16, 2006 

Madame P, Spellbound, CD-R

"Madame P is the pseudonym of the Italian musician and artist, Patrizia Oliva. Formerly a member of the seminal all-female noise/performance troupe Allun, she has been working as a solo artist for only 18 months, but has already self-released a string of limited CD-Rs. In her live work, and on her most recent recordings, she has been exploring the range and powerful expressive potential of her own voice. Sampling her vocal in real time and feeding it through various effects, using contact mics and various other minimal electronic devices, she builds layer upon layer of ecstatic tongue. Her latest CD-R, Spellbound (Curor Recordings), is appropriately named, for there is something of the supernatural about Ms. Oliva. A hundred voices emanate from her throat – a spirit choir to invade your dreams. This glossolalia recalls Diamanda Galas, and particularly on the third untitled track, listeners may be reminded of the multiple vocals and churchly medievalism of Fursaxa. Comparisons like these would ordinarily do a disservice to such singular artistes, but Madame P proves herself fiercely independent, no mere copyist or arriviste. Spellbound's final track – which for convenience I'll call 'I got your letter' – makes an unequivocal statement of emotional independence, and the album does more than enough to show that the same holds artistically. Be warned, for like the sailors lured to rocky destruction by the enchanting beauty of the sirens' song, you may be helpless to resist the shipwreck of your heart."

Abbe Rhodian
Thursday, November 09, 2006 
"One of three near-simultaneous dispatches from the Breaker camp, Purges -
recorded half as a duo and half with Matt / Les Enfants on board for banjo
duty - is a unique beast.  Whereas "Those Who Do Not Believe..." (chocolate
monk) traverses vast expanses of dark soul time, and the split excursion
w/Bbblood (transdimensional sushi) revels in ecstatic deconstruction,
Purges is virtually an environmental work - it looks out before looking in. 
Don't let the initial disorientating blast fool you, things soon start to
unravel...

More than anything this album is a storybook, its wordless tales are related
in strange, nameless tongues which, though macro-indecipherable, offer
glimpses and evocations, fragments playing tag with each other until a
natural order is made manifest.  In the midst of these winding narratives we
find lost vessels - rickety industrial trawlers caught in ocean storms,
carcasses of mythical protagonists fallen foul of primal urges - locations
which beg the question Am I Inhabited?  For me they are, though by what I
can not say, as I can not escape the feeling that something has been lost.
Like Russian dolls with missing pieces, whatever stands inside must in turn
be filled, but who can say that in all those layers - somewhere in the
depths - some key element has not been extracted?"

Buy it now from our myspace page. £5.00 postpaid, anywhwere in the world.
Includes free pin badge!
Monday, October 16, 2006 

Towering Breaker


Madame P


Bjerga/Iversen


Madame P + Bjerga/Iversen

Thursday, October 12, 2006 

Here's a link to a recent movie of MadameP live on her U.K. tour:

          http://www.freenoise.co.uk/articles/oct06/madame-p.htm

Monday, October 02, 2006 

In the vast grey sea of plumber cracks looming over Line-6 pedals that is the meathead noise underground, Venison Whirled stands out like a glorious yellow rose. Easier said than explained perhaps (and harder still to explain why you shouldn't just skip over this and hit play already), but given that 'musicality' and 'noise' are ultimately useless as signposts depending on your vantage point, how to define the parameters of these glorious straight lines? Lisa is an alchemist of no small skill on any instrument, but how she squeezes the mercury from tiny piezo mikes and drum heads is quite beyond little ol' gtr lunkhead me. I can say this is a bit fuzzier and sculpted compared to the unattended processes of her earlier CDR, but ultimately she might as well be dropping mikes deep into the Edwards aquifer for all I can tell.  So lets just say this is rippled shimmering drizzle drawn out of a cloudless TX sky (OK)? And what really counts is the lasered focus, the infinite roads to the horizon, the wide-eyed journey to the clear light beyond. As Tommy Hall once said, "Know naught!/ All ways are lawful to innocence" (or was that Merrell Fankhauser)?

Tom Carter
Oakland CA
Fall '06