The Hippo

HOME| ADVERTISING| CONTACT US|

 
Nov 19, 2018







NEWS & FEATURES

POLITICAL

FOOD & DRINK

ARTS

MUSIC & NIGHTLIFE

POP CULTURE



BEST OF
CLASSIFIEDS
ADVERTISING
CONTACT US
PAST ISSUES
ABOUT US
MOBILE UPDATES
LIST MY CALENDAR ITEM


Rhys Chatham, Pythagorean Dream (Foom Records)




Pylon, Pylon Live (Chunklet Records)

If you give Pylon credit for anything, it’s their decision to break up back in 1983 owing to the fact that it was all becoming less fun and too much of a business venture. If they’d survived, this Athens, Georgia, quartet might have — repeat, might have — become a companion product for B-52s fans, what with high-strung dance-pop tunes like “Precaution,” but in the meantime they definitely had a roots-goth Siouxsie/Echo and the Bunnymen side as well. All that being said, there’s nothing shockingly original about what they were doing, and this limited-colored-vinyl/unlimited-black-vinyl capturing of the live animal isn’t going to find them being posthumously dubbed the unsung, real-deal king of 1980s-Atlanta’s zeitgeist. Sure, singers like Karen O and Regina Spektor probably lifted a lot of their boiling angst from Vanessa Briscoe, and the guys from REM and B-52s can’t praise them enough. But in the end, Pylon was a borderline no-wave thing that was too poppy, or a pop band that was too loud for the Top 40, take your pick. This live set is lean, I’ll give it that, but too many interesting bands have come and gone over the past 30-odd years — many of comparable sound/temperament/ability — for anyone but the most ardent 1980s-Atlanta completist to care, frankly. B-




Rhys Chatham, Pythagorean Dream (Foom Records)
CD Reviews: July 14, 2016

07/14/16
By Eric Saeger news@hippopress.com



Rhys Chatham, Pythagorean Dream (Foom Records) 

OK, you know those captivating but a-little-too-indie documentaries where the background music sounds like it was done by one of the filmmaker’s crazy friends who’s into experimentalism, and the “music,” for lack of a better term, eventually has you lowering the volume because you’ve become concerned that the stuff is hurting your brain somehow? That’s this, a one-man dada-soundscaping show originally from one of the boroughs who now lives in France. He’s won acclaim for his “guitar orchestra” stuff, but he’s also big into flute and trumpet, and so we have three long compositions spotlighting each instrument, all getting their own barmy loop treatment. Simply put, “Part One” makes his guitar sounds into an enthusiastic, ad-hoc symphony of bells; “Part Two” is a quiet-loud-quiet mix of flute-as-seagull and guitar clamor, while “Whitechapel Brass Variations” finds his trumpet spending most of its time emulating a swarm of flies. The shortest piece is 14 minutes — do I even have to say “self-indulgent?” B-





®2018 Hippo Press. site by wedu