
Maine Summer Mixtape 2015
Ninety minutes of local music, reviewed
by Chris Busby and Peet Chamberlain
Do you remember when mixtapes were actually tapes, blank cassettes dubbed with 60 or 90 minutesâ worth of songs? I was there, back in the â80s, kneeling in my bedroom in front of the dual cassette deck, the index finger of one hand poised on the pause button of Deck B, the index of the other hovering over the pause button of Deck A or the lever that dropped the needle onto the record spinning below.
Making a mix was harder back then. These days you can just drag and drop, adding or deleting songs with the click of a mouse. But back then it was tricky to sequence songs without too much (or too little) silence in between, and getting the levels right was a chore. You also had to give more consideration to which tracks to include. A dud on a CD or iTunes playlist can be skipped in an instant. On a tape, the listener is forced to fast forward, a maddeningly inexact act.
Earlier this summer I decided to tackle the long list of local releases we havenât had the time or space to review since last summer. It occurred to me that the best way to approach this mountain of music would be to treat it as material for an old-school mixtape. Limited to 90 minutes, only the choicest songs would make the cut, though I also kept in mind that this would be a summer mix. Several review-worthy releases are not included here simply because the tone of the music doesnât fit with the rest of the tape. Among those is Stone Toolsâ solid thrash-metal debut, Stoned to Death; Hessianâs masterful throwback metal record, Bachelor of Black Arts; and The 10000 Things, by indie-folk duo Snaex, a heavy collection of very moving personal and political songs from which I could not extract a cut that wouldnât cloud its neighbors.
I asked local musician and frequent Bollard contributor Peet Chamberlain to check out a bunch of stuff I still didnât have time to listen to, and his takes on some of those releases are included, as well. You can hear all these tracks on our website, thebollard.com. And if you come to our 10th anniversary party on Sept. 10, at Portland House of Music, I may even have a few cassettes of this mix to hand out.
Enjoy!
â C.B.
Side 1

Letterfounder
“range four harry”
Smile Anyway
The first song on a mix has to be especially good. Itâs the bait you need to draw in the listener and persuade them to commit to the rest of the tape (or at least Side 1). The best lead-off tracks also refer, often slyly, to larger concepts at play in the mix.
In these respects, âRange Four Harry,â by Lewiston indie Renaissance man Jessy Kendall, who records as Letterfounder, is the perfect fit for this collection. This gorgeous, shimmering ballad floats along on a gently loping bassline and strummed guitar strings that sound as clean as wave-washed stones (both courtesy of collaborator Victor Leclerc), while seagulls cry and children play on the sonic bed beneath. The lyrics include beguiling (if not baffling) references to an alien (the titular âHarry;â Google it), geopolitics and pop stars. When Kendall croons âIâve got those Lionel Ritchie moves / You got that Warren G. retro,â you know this song is gold.
In an e-mail, Kendall, who works part-time at a shelter for homeless teens, explained that this was initially a rap song. âA youth had challenged me to a battle and I don’t rap, but what I came up with were those lyrics,â he wrote. âI lost.â
The album this song appears on, Smile Anyway, was posted online last summer and subsequently updated with new tracks in a new order. Itâs one of the strongest alternative folk-rock efforts Iâve heard from a Maine artist, which is all the more remarkable given that most of Letterfounderâs sprawling oeuvre consists of electronic music. That influence surfaces on Smile with samples and funk inflections, though there are several other acoustic cuts (âStar Staggering,â the title track) that rival this gemâs glistening beauty.
Thereâs a treasure trove of albums, artwork, video and writing (Kendall also publishes the Letterfounder zine) to be found at letterfounder.flavors.me. (Warning: you can get sucked into this site for hours; as Leaves Leaves advises on their record, âbring snaxx.â)
The Yeti
âElectric Cold (Long Hot Summer Night)â
Yeti HendrixÂ
Just a few months after dropping their first full-length, the awesome Abominable, hip-hop trio The Yeti delivered another album last year straight outta left field. On Yeti Hendrix, DJ and producer TheLin mines Jimi classics and interviews by and about the guitar god to build a funky base for rappers Syn The Shaman and Dray Senior to take off from. There isnât a weak track on this release, but âElectric Coldâ may be the strongest, and the title fits this mix perfectly. You get lines like, âthat radio shit is just popular / itâs not whatâs poppinâ,â from Dray, Syn rapping about sneaking whip-cream hits in a storeâs cooler, and a great quote from Little Richard to set up the next songâŠ
Dreadnaught
âThis Time Next Yearâ
Gettingâ Tight With Dreadnaught Rock. Yes, Richard, thatâs just what we need here, preferably with some Hendrix-worthy guitar work, and Dreadnaught delivers. The proggy power trio has been at it for nearly two decades now, and this catchy number comes from their EP Gettingâ Tight With Dreadnaught, released this spring. Tempting as it was to drop the opening instrumental, shredder âNervous Little Dogs,â in this mix, âThis Time Next Yearâ has hints of â70s AOR (album-oriented rock, a la Chicago and Steely Dan, in this case) that nicely foreshadow the same in the next selection.
Zach Jones
âEverything’s Fineâ
Love What You LoveÂ
Pop-rock wunderkind Zach Jones mustâve dusted off his E.L.O. records in the process of making this breezy, richly textured opener for his latest release, last winterâs Love What You Love. Though no longer in the shadow of former As Fast As frontman Spencer Albee, Jones shares his palâs penchant for saccharine songwriting, and several tracks on this album are too precious for their own good. I recommend the rockinâ âLucky Oneâ and the stirring, yet tempered, closer, âOut on the Townâ for those who need to monitor their aural glucose intake.
Spencer Albee
âSo Bad”
Mistakes Were Made
I suppose weâve gotta put the Spence song next. He has to be on this mix somewhere. Love him or loathe him, Albeeâs a gifted songwriter who makes infectiously catchy music, though much of it sounds the same. I like the bouncy psych-pop nugget âOne 2 Three,â which first surfaced on the Love Is Not Enough EP last fall (and reappears, along with the other three tracks, on this full-length). But the lyrics â âWonât you play with me? / 1, 2, 3 / Will you sleep with me? / 1, 2, 3â â sound like something a sex offender registered on Sesame Street would say. The title track of that EP is cool, too (I think thereâs even a minor key in there somewhere), but its spiteful, self-pitying tone (âyouâre fucking him / youâre fucking meâ) is too much of a downer for a summer mix.
Best to stick with this slinky number, the subject of which is how cool Albee is. âYouâre a page and Iâm a book,â he says to the guy whose chick heâs angling to steal. Ooooh, snap! (Are people still saying that?) I also like the line âsheâs drinking wine from a paper cup,â but could swear Iâd heard it before. Turns out Albee recycled it from an As Fast As song called âBeakless Bird (Jerking Off In a Paper Cup).â Eeew.
Volcano Rabbit
âOur Boy Looks Good on the Tubeâ
Isnât This a Bit Excessive?
Speaking of people who arenât Facebook friends with Albee, this is a good place to include one of the tracks Peet Chamberlain wrote about. The Portland five-some Volcano Rabbitâs dirty elixir of pop and punk is a good antidote to the syrupy stuff that precedes it here. Their nine-track debut, Isnât This a Bit Excessive?, is âgreat car music,â Peet wrote. âTheir melodic, energetic punk gets you excited to step on the gas pedal even if you donât really have any place to go.â
âOur Boy Looks Good on the Tube,â with its âsimple I-IV-V chord progression and background âoohâs,ââ has the ingredients that make this bandâs music exciting, according to Peet. âSinger John Vavra has one of those voices where he can be really fucking loud and hit every note. He sounds like heâs young but has smoked two packs a day since he was 9.â
Aside from the Irish punk of âThe Ballad of Justin and Blaineâ and the annoying â90s Internet dial-up sound that opens the album, Peet liked the rest of Excessive, as did I. Throw âDuke of the Darnedâ on, too, and keep an eye out for cops.
Leaves Leaves
âGPC IIIâ
Deboning Swedish Fish
Weâre now halfway through the first side, in the meat of the order â time to throw on another slab of punk rock. Leaves Leaves is a side project of the indie-rock band Great Western Plain. Tim Berrigan of GWP is on drums and Michael Powers plays guitar, joined by Sam Baldwin on bass and singer Paige Clifton (who plays drums in the band Babe). Deboning Swedish Fish is classic basement music â simple, loose, funny and fun.
GWPâs tendency to idle in lengthy instrumental stretches is largely reined in here. Cliftonâs vocals are unpolished but enthusiastic, and the lyrics, which I assume she wrote, are sharp-tongued and -witted. âSurrounded by surfers, but I canât find the ocean,â she dryly remarks on âDenver Kinda Suxx.â âGPC IIIâ has it all: a great groove-driven riff, couplets like âPBR is gonna get her backstage / tikka masala in the microwave,â and a squealing squall of a solo at the end. What gets me, though, is the way Clifton screams âAH-HAAAH!â at the end of the chorus â it comes as a shock at first, like the yell of an attacker in the dark. Killer.
The Gamma Goochies
âSecrurityâ
Never Learned to Dance
The Gamma Goochies play raw, bluesy bar rock spiked with punk and soul. Recorded, apparently live in the âstudio,â by Mike Cunnane (Bad Leg, Cheerwine), Never Learned to Dance is a warts-and-all document of the Goochiesâ live show, minus singer Aaron âHot Dogâ Hainesâ manic stage antics. Veteran guitarists Bart Joy and Jeff Crane bat riffs back and forth and take workmanlike solos like itâs just another night at Genoâs â no art, no overdubs, no regrets.
Most of the 13 songs here are covers, including the raucous opener, âBourgeois Town.â Itâs loosely based on a Leadbelly song, âThe Bourgeois Blues,â a stinging indictment of racism in Washington D.C., replete with two references to being called a nigger. In the Goochiesâ hands, the lyrics are pared to little more than a chorus complaining about gentrification in Portland. Itâs best not to expect too much from this band.
âLove Man,â one of two Otis Redding covers, is another inspired choice (an overlooked burner from one of the posthumous albums), but also another example of Haines cutting out too many lyrics. âSecurityâ works better, giving Haines ample opportunity to leap into his untamed, higher register. He canât touch Otisâ masterful ability to make all four syllables of the title distinct notes, but that would really be expecting too much.
Bad Leg
âCLOSE TALKERSâ
9 Song Demo
Drummer and producer Mike Cunnane moves in front of the mic, and picks up a guitar, in this band. Hereâs Peet againâŠ
Bad Leg makes fast, angry punk music that doesnât fuck around. Whether calling out catcallers or chemtrails on their nine-track demo, singer Allison Slattery is able to make her point swiftly and with enough rage to keep you fired up long after itâs over.
Most good punk records are short. Classics like Wireâs Pink Flag or the Ramonesâ debut can be played loud in your apartment and are over before the cops arrive. The members of Bad Leg definitely have this aesthetic down. Drummer Ryan Charest, bassist John Slattery and guitarist Mike Cunnane play tight and arenât interested in showing off.
âClose Talkersâ is a favorite because of its silly, yet very real, subject matter. âI know your breath stinks and Iâm wondering if mine does, too,â Slattery shouts over a breakneck beat and power chords. âYou smell like youâre dying/ you should get that checked out / you say you got laid this weekend/ I have my doubts.â
Bad Leg isnât breaking any new ground, but who cares? (Other than your neighbors, but they donât count.)
Five of the Eyes
âEosâ
FOTEÂ
As professor Robert Pollard, of Guided By Voices fame, once explained, the four Pâs of rock are pop, punk, psych and prog. To maintain the proper balance of those four forces on this side, it behooves us to include Five of the Eyesâ prog song âEosâ here. (Plus, itâs 5:26 long, leaving just enough room for the two psychedelic tracks to come.) Whatâs gifted vocalist Darrell Foster singing about? I have no earthly idea, nor do I care. What I do care about are the gnarly guitar groove that opens this song, the acoustic break in the middle, the rippinâ solos at the end, and drummer Peter Griffithâs brilliant time-keeping throughout. I hear these guys are even better live. Bring your eyes to their Aug. 28 gig at Empire.
S.S. Cretins
âSunny Ground Of Soundâ
Bigger Than Jesus
S.S. Cretins play classic garage psych, distinguished from its lighter brethren by its grit, noise and rockabilly roots. Bigger Than Jesus, the five-track live EP the Cretins released this summer, is a shambling sampler of fuzzy freakouts (one song is simply titled âFreakoutâ). The foursomeâs own description of their music on their Facebook page says it best: âsloppy sweaty sounds to go through your ear and out your rear.â
Herbcraft
âPush Thru the Veil”
Wot Oz
Side 1 ends with this nugget by Herbcraft, a group that also includes singer-guitarist Matt Lajoie, of S.S. Cretins. Peet wrote about this one, tooâŠ
Herbcraft makes music for you to get lost in. They know how to take a riff and push it to its limits. âPush through the Veil,â from their upcoming album Wot Oz, is based entirely around a stoned guitar line drowning in its own reverb. Bass and drums soon arrive to make a comfortable groove as all kinds of psychedelic madness swirls around behind it.
When the vocals come in, so many effects are piled on top that itâs almost impossible to make out any of singer Matt Lajoieâs lyrics. With Herbcraftâs music, though, you donât get the sense that the vocals are meant to be understood. Lajoieâs voice wants to be equal to all the sounds around it, which helps emphasize the communal hippie vibe the trio gives off.
Released last October, âVeilâ is our first taste of Wot Oz, which is scheduled for release on Aug. 21. The affordably priced 45 single, featuring an âexclusive stereophonic mix,â also includes an âexclusive dub versionâ on the flip (out) side. That sounds quite collectable. âVeilâ indicates that Herbcraft, now over half a decade deep into this trip, are evolving without abandoning the approach they began with. At their best, they remind us that sometimes the best way to grow is to let it flow.
Side 2
When Particles Collide
“05_There Are Some Things-_AAyan_EQd”
This TownÂ
As Bob from Enterprise Records explained to me years ago, the first song on Side 2 of an album is almost as important to the listening experience as the opening cut, for much the same reason (bait). Acts of the â70s and â80s, the era of vinyl and cassettes, tended to reserve this spot for one of their best songs, and this mix follows that maxim.
The Bangor rock duo When Particles Collide released a six-song EP this spring in memory of two friends, both employees of a downtown pub, killed by a drunk driver last summer. This Town is a heavy-hitter sonically and emotionally. Sasha Alcott has a voice of uncommon power and guitar chops to match. Chris Viner, her drummer/husband, fills out their sound with Bonham-sized beats and creative fills.
WPCâs music is an amalgam of many kinds of rock: punk, metal, grunge, Southern, classic, new wave. This EP tends toward the darker end of that spectrum. âStorm Cloudâ is an unabashed head-banger. âThese Storiesâ sounds like Queens of the Stone Age covering Dio-era Rainbow. (And yes, that sounds awesome!)
The tune I picked, âThere Are Some Things,â has a bright, booming party chorus, but thatâs hardly half of what makes this song great. In the verses, Alcott is directly addressing the departed, telling them the news and gossip theyâve missed. The pitch and intensity of her voice build to progressively higher levels. By the end of the third verse, sheâs screaming, âyou shut down the WHOLE DAMN TOWN!â By the end of the song, her unabashed anguish actually smashes through the conceptual wall separating the art of âperformanceâ from stark naked reality. There is no song anymore, just a grief-stricken friend raging against fate.
Play this track loud and listen hard and you will be fucking floored. WPC plays Bissell Brothers Brewery in Portland on Aug. 15.
Jacob Augustine
âSalvationâ
split 7â
The only musical puzzle piece that fits next to that cathartic song is âSalvation,â a recent single by singer-songwriter Jacob Augustine. Its gentle musical bed, smoothed with lap steel by McKay Belk, is a balm for the eardrums Alcott scorched, and Augustineâs graceful voice is a source of comfort and wonder. On this enigmatic song, you marvel as his high tenor flutters up somewhere between a high lonesome yodel and a theremin as he sings the words âblueâ and ânewsâ in the choruses. There is no answer; there is only amazement and appreciation.
Old Soul
âI Want Moreâ
Omnipresent
Omnipresent is the long-awaited sophomore album from Old Soul, a loosely defined group led by singer-songwriter Mike OâHehir. Old Soulâs eponymous debut, a folk-rock album with Eastern European accents, was one of the best releases of 2011 that nobody heard. Inspired by a romance between OâHehir and Danielle Savage, a childhood friend who became the groupâs bassist, the first record was permeated by the kind of blissful, slightly psychedelic vibe thatâs impossible to create on purpose.
OâHehir and company try anyway on Omnipresent, and often come close. Opener âFrom a Dreamâ is a lovely and expertly executed song. âSol Do Mar,â with its accordion and horns, evokes a lazy, boozy evening in a balmy seaside city. And âI Want More,â my pick for this mix, has a catchy, easygoing bounce and a jovial atmosphere created by the small gang of musicians playing together in some Kennebunkport room.
Absent Savage, OâHehir sings with two talented female vocalists here: Amy Allen, on âRest,â and Sara Hallie Richardson, on three other cuts. The results are mixed. When OâHehir starts playing in that plucky, old-time jazz style, itâs a signal the song will soon melt into schmaltz. Still, anyone impressed by the first Old Soul record will find plenty to like about this one.
D. Gross
âJuggernautâ
JuggernautÂ
The title track to folk-bluesman Dana âD.â Grossâ third album fits the groove of the preceding song so well that it had to go here. Plus, itâs got a funky, shuffling drumbeat and spacy little breaks into which the song seems to be pulled by gravity â pretty cool.
âJuggernautâ is the most unconventional composition on an otherwise highly conventional collection of countrified roots music. Itâs well played and well sung throughout. If traditional Americana is your thing, Juggernaut will earn its place among the hundreds of similar albums on your sagging shelves. If not, well, then I guess weâre done here.
Justin Walton
âKeep Your Nose Cleanâ
Blood From a StoneÂ
Dreadnaught guitarist Justin Walton really impressed me with his first solo album, 2011âs It Takes a Toll, and my high expectations for this follow-up have largely been met. Walton proves that roots music doesnât have to be boring. Of course, it helps when youâve got astounding chops on the guitar, the Stevie Wonderesque ability to play seemingly any instrument you lay your hands on, and a penchant for post-modern genre-hopping.
âKeep Your Nose Cleanâ creeps in with funky stutter steps before blooming into a keyboard-drenched pop ballad of sorts. My favorite thing about this song, though, is the fact its second half starts with a crazy-good guitar solo that most acts would either end with or use as a bridge back to the chorus. Walton, being his own boss here, decides to return to the chicken-picked groove he used in the beginning and launch into yet another, even more awesome solo.
Walton has a recurring solo gig this summer on the patio of The Porthole, on Portlandâs Custom House Wharf. You can catch him there Aug. 11 and 22.
The Mallett Brothers Band
âLate Night in Austin”
Lights Along the River
The Mallett Brothers Band plays modern country, which has no place on this mix or any other respectable collection of music, but they often rise above the doldrums of that dreadful genre by injecting shots of Southern rock into their sound, as Steve Earle showed the world how to do a few decades ago. âLate Night in Austin,â which opens the Mallettsâ new album, is the strongest example of this style on the record, with âLes Paulsâ a close second and the raucous, but clunky, closer, âTip Up,â an ode to ice fishing (a.k.a. drinking beer), staggering in for the bronze.
The band also distinguishes itself from the mod-country rabble with more traditional material, like âTennessee,â and songs about life in Maine (âThe Irene,â whose subject is lobstering). There are a few yawners here, but âLate Nightâ ainât one of âem.
Murcielago
âSmoke Seasonâ
self-titled
Murcielago is a damn good stoner-rock band. That said, the stubborn fact is that, at least for listeners in Maine, theyâre unlikely to ever emerge from the tall shadow cast by Fred Dodge of Eldemur Krimm, whose group, after a lengthy hiatus, has returned to reclaim the crown. Murcielago bassist and singer Neil Collins and guitarist Matt Robbins both played in prior incarnations of Krimm, and itâs clear theyâve endeavored to keep its swampy, sludgy spirit alive. Yet the riffs and (most noticeably) the vocals fall short of the high bar Dodge set with the help of half this act.
Partly to avoid that comparison, but mostly because itâs a really good tune, Iâve chosen the short acoustic instrumental âSmoke Seasonâ for this mix. It functions on Murcielago much the same way Jimmy Pageâs acoustic interludes (e.g., âBron-Yr-Aurâ) do on Zepâs records â a lovely little breather among the bombast. Consider it your cue to roll one up for the rest of Side 2.
SeepeopleS
âComa Vacation Hostageâ
Dead Souls Sessions
Bangor native Will Bradford made four albums last decade with his band SeepeopleS before taking a long break in 2010 to kick substance-abuse problems. Now heâs back with a new version of the group (featuring such familiar Portland faces as keyboardist Frank Hopkins and bassist Dan Capaldi) and a sprawling double album, Dead Souls Sessions.
âWhoâs got time for SeepeopleS when they release albums that rely less on an empty hook or a banger beat, and more on a strong narrative arc and thought provoking storytelling through sound and lyrics? Theyâre simply not a one hit wonder kind of band ⊠Add to that SeepeopleSâ firmly âanti-genreâ sound, and the odds are stacked against this band ever fitting into the compartmentalization of the musical landscape.â Thatâs not a critic talking. Thatâs their publicist.
After two listens to all 106 minutes of Dead Souls, I found myself asking the same question: Who has time for this? Indeed, SeepeopleS is not a one-hit-wonder band. Theyâre a no-hit band, and thatâs no wonder, given that this claustrophobic clusterfuck of a double-disc is smothered in gauzy effects, beyond pretentious (âGogolâs Tea Dance Dinner Mintâ?), and way too long for anyoneâs good. Even Bangor Daily News writer Emily Burnham, whose reviews are more like feature stories, said half of this release should never have been made available to the public (in a more politic way, of course). By the end of disc two I was jonesinâ for an empty hook or a banger beat.
Still, give Bradford some credit â the guy tries, and he obviously put a lot of work into this album, even if it was way too much. âComa Vacation Hostageâ transcends its terrible title by virtue of the fact it sounds like the alien love child of Brian Wilson and The Flaming Lipsâ Wayne Coyne. Lines like, âYou give me over-the-rainbow cold shouldersâ threaten to drag the track back toward that little trash can in the corner of the screen, but ultimately its sunny disposition and fulsome hooks earn it a spot here.
A Severe Joy
â(In the Middle of My) Love Machineâ
single
Ex-Spouse frontman José Ayerve is A Severe Joy, a one-man whirlwind of club beats, electro blurps, lyrical bravura and provocative dance moves. After releasing two proper albums, Ayerve embarked on a three-year project to make 10 limited-edition plexi-disc singles (20 tracks in all), an endeavor he finished this June.
My favorite of the recent ones is the A side of No. 9, â(In the Middle of My) Love Machine,â which came out in March. Fun, unpredictable, and hooky as hell, it leans more in the rock direction of his old band, which Iâll keep missing until he reforms it for more than a few one-off gigs.
Spose
âGesundheitâ
Why Am I So Happy?
I donât want to review Sposeâs new album. I just want to say Iâm proud of the guy. Catapulted onto the national stage five years ago by the lightening-strike success of his single, âIâm Awesome,â and just as abruptly spit out by the merciless/clueless machine of the music industry, heâs kept working hard and stayed true to himself, his family, his fans and his community. No wonder that, as he mentions on this record, strangers in his home state give him free weed and Dunkinâ Donuts just for being himself and continuing to represent other hard-working Mainers.
Why Am I So Happy? is an exceptionally strong rap record, even by national hip-hop standards. Its 14 proper songs are packed with clever and genuinely funny lines, and the flow is flawless. The production belies the fact Sposeâs own Preposterously Dank Entertainment label doesnât have the cash to blow on sample clearance, but he and the local musicians all over this release make the most of what theyâve got.
Iâm also loathe to echo the critical consensus that this album represents Sposeâs growth as a person, his maturity or whatever. The couple cuts that explicitly address this subject are the least lyrically interesting here. Still, thereâs no denying that Spose is transcending the tired tropes of bong hits and booty calls that characterize so much modern hip hop. Dig the title track, a genuinely thoughtful rumination on the peace and prosperity Americans take for granted on a globe wracked by violence and misery. Or âGesundheit,â the cut I chose for this mix, an indictment of domestic violence that makes its points without being preachy (and contains the genius line, âtwo shots through the heart / double Bon Joviâ).
âAlternative Radioâ is a fitting tribute to the non-commercial stations capable of actually making a difference in listenersâ lives. And Spose hilariously punctures the fear-mongering and repression practiced by television news: âThe sun is shining and the chickadees are chirping, but 2015 could actually be one of the most dangerous years on record,â a phony female newscaster warns at the end of âHappy Right Now.â âWeâve got seven things you should be afraid of this summer, coming up at 11. Plus, a check of the weather!â
A commenter on iTunes called this the summer record of the year. Aside from this mix, heâs probably right.
Vinyl Cape
“BRZOWSKI – Bombs Make Noise (Feat. Swordplay, PT Burnem)”
Ritual Abuse: Mixed Cape I
Brzowski is another local rapper who deserves props for his perseverance and dedication to craft. Heâs a relentless presence on the mic and on the scene, promoting underground hip hop like itâs his job (which it ainât, he works maintenance at MECA).
Vinyl Cape pairs Brzowski with producer/instrumentalist C$ (pronounced âC-moneyâ) Burns and turntablist Mo Miklz. Ritual Abuse is a dark, Gothic, metallic and abrasive collection of remixes, covers and unreleased rarities. (An âunmixedâ version of the album was released at the same time last April.)
More appropriate for October than summer, its gloom lightens slightly toward the end on this bumpinâ number that also features rappers Swordplay and PT Burnem. âAll I wanna do is get crunk and rob banks,â they declare. To which one naturally asks, âWho doesnât?â
Tom Kovacevic
âI’ll_Ask_Youâ
Universe Thin as Skin
So itâs 4 a.m. and the acid is wearing off. Youâve had a crazy-fun trip and now itâs time to return to reality. You feel tired but unsleepy, slightly greasy, and a strong craving for fresh-squeezed orange juice, but nothingâs open yet except Dennyâs.
What record would be perfect right now?
The former members of the avant-garde rock collective Cerberus Shoal have released a number of albums lately that you might consider. Chriss Sutherlandâs Snaex duo will almost certainly provoke a crying jag, though, and Big Bloodâs double album, Double Days I & II, released last February, is really cool but really trippy, and you were just there.
Ah, here it is: Universe Thin as Skin, the debut solo album by Tom Kovacevic, a vet of Shoal, tarpigh and Fire on Fire who still plays with the neo-Flamenco group Olas. On Universe, Tom K., as his friends call him, presents the Arabic music heâs been studying and playing for the past two decades. Thereâs oud, nay flute, djembe and tchung drums, and Kovacevicâs arrestingly beautiful voice.
This is the record you need to return to earth. Itâs calming, graceful and intriguing, recorded at the legendary South Portland communal âHouse of Shoalâ by Big Bloodâs Caleb Mulkerin, who left the atmospherics in.
âFlowers are marching / mountains are lifting / people are treating each other with kindness,â Kovacevic sings on âIâll Ask You,â his cadence rising and dipping like a bird on a breeze.
Someday, my friend. Someday.























