Hans-Peter Lindstrøm, Emil Nikolaisen, Todd Rundgren – Runddans
At the other end of the “2015 collaborations we expected” spectrum from Britney and Iggy is this new record, out this week on Norwegian label Smalltown Supersound. First up there’s Emil Nikolaisen, bandleader of under-appreciated psych-rock troupe Serena Maneesh. Then there’s Hans-Peter Lindstrøm, king of cosmic disco. And finally there’s Todd Rundgren, producer of everything from Meat Loaf’s operatic nonsense to XTC’s pastoral pop, not to mention 25 albums of his own material. Together they have the potential for unprecedented levels of prog, and so it proves: guitar solos pirouette around unspooling synth lines, as the repeated refrain of “put your arms around me” seems to invite chemically assisted tantric lovemaking. Track titles include Liquid Joy from the Womb of Infinity and T.H.E. Golden Triangle (Dry-Mouthed Gargoyles in a Fountain of Fluorescent Shepard Tones), and there’s even a metatextual moment on Ravende Gal (Full Circle) as the trio explain their intentions for the LP over some tribal congas. Lindstrøm gently tethers this lunging quest for the stars with a disco beat, and Rundgren and Nikolaisen’s pop smarts are still on show; at times it ends up reminiscent of Stereolab or Jaga Jazzist’s cosmopolitanism. A deliriously camp treat.
Peder Mannerfelt – The Swedish Congo Record
An extraordinary and principled LP debuting here from Peder Mannerfelt, whom you may know from his production work for Fever Ray, or as one half of Roll the Dice. This most Ronseal of titles describes the album exactly: it’s the Swede’s take on the traditional dance music of the Congo, with Mannerfelt doing cover versions of recordings collected on 78 in the 1950s by the Belgian ethnographer Armand Denis. Mannerfelt creates the polyrhythms, melodies, does the chants (often digitally altered) and recreates the claps as snares. It’s a political statement: Mannerfelt holds up the brilliance and rhythmic daring of the original music without crassly sampling it into his own, or indeed exploiting it as western colonialists (and, arguably, record labels) have done in the past.
Japa Habilidoso – Funk Do Sindicalismo
The Future Times label is an ever-reliable currency for underground disco fans – run by Maxmillion Dunbar, it trades in mind-fugged grooves played on equipment you’d generally find at sleepy car boot sales. For their latest 12-inch they’ve reissued this track from last year by Japa Habilidoso, one of the many projects from Brazilian producer Guerrinha and his 40% Foda/Maneirissimo label; judging from its Bandcamp listing it seems to be fixated on agricultural political organisation, about which there are simply not enough dancefloor stompers. This one features fiendishly funky Roland percussion set against blown-out bass kicks, topped with scratching rougher than low-grade sandpaper.
CC Not – Geo Fi
Already sold out and lustfully coveted a month after release, this excellent debut from the Acting Press label has now crept onto YouTube. Like ambient techno daddies Porter Ricks, the killer element to these soothing and spiritual tracks has a barely-there draught of air passing across the back of them: is this music really there with us, or is it being heard at a distance, even as a memory? Across the five tracks there’s sturdy minimal acid in Cylinder Avoidance Test and Attribution Link, barely-there ambient in [303 IMUX], and a tropical epic in Vtro V 2.0. Lead track Wearing is the best, with its junglist drum pattern and lush Jungle Wonz-style chords and birdsong.
Arthur Russell – Ocean Movie
There’s no space here to do justice to Arthur Russell – suffice to say that he’s one of the greatest American songwriters of all time, who straddles disco, VU drone and Simon & Garfunkel sentimentality and all with an innate sense of melody. More material continues to trickle from his archives in the form of lost album Corn: as well as rhythmic versions of This Is How We Walk on the Moon and Lucky Cloud (*fans self*), there is new material such as Ocean Movie. Here, his unmistakable cello sound – doleful and mooching – is paired with delayed guitar, ambient tones and tape noise like an impressionistic postcard from the seaside.
