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LP
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FTR 535LP
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Restocked. "The sixth LP by NYC trio, Rhyton, is as heavy as an Egyptian space-funeral. The vibe of this masterful album is fully embodied by its gorgeous Robert Beatty cover art, which looks like a Mati Klarwein reinterpretation of Tony Scott's '68 Verve LP, Music for Yoga Meditation. Rhyton was formed in 2011 by Dave Shuford and fellow travelers, with a notion to balance the songwriterly stance of D. Charles Speer with something more improvisation based. As Shuford says, 'Originally we took certain international rock icons, mainly European and Japanese touchstones, to be points of departure. In general, and as the drummer changed, some of the influences stateside came more to the fore. Improvisation, though still prevalent, began to take a secondary role in the creative method. The studio has continually increased its position as a focused tool for the group, dating back to the Kykeon album and expanding again on this latest batch. Studio -- structure -- rupture -- living asunder.' Pharaonic Crosstalk was recorded at Gary's Electric studio in Greenpoint in bits and pieces, when it wasn't being used otherwise. The process was begun about four years ago, and really only got finished when the Plague shut things down. The sound this time has evolved as Shuford suggests. Drummer Rob Smith shows some of the lessons he must have learned while studying with Bernard Purdie, lending even the zoniest sections a groove-oid bottom that won't stop. And this does not infer boogie tendencies, so much as a solid new approach to fundamentals. Shuford's multivalent string aktion, combined with Jimmy SeiTang's wonderful bass/keyboard dualism and Smith's provocative percolation make this an album of crazy hybridized stoned space-funk-psych-fusion while still manifesting experimental highlights. It is a heady goddamn brew. And never more so than when Al Carlson (who engineered the session) is guesting on sax or the great Tennessee roots pianist, Hans Chew, shows up on clavinet (who knew)! Pharaonic Crosstalk is one of the sweetest bubbles of expressed space-time we've heard in a good long while. Super hard to pin down (like so many truly great records), its contours are a glorious mind-fuck for listeners of all ages." --Byron Coley, 2021 Edition of 400.
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LP
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MIE 035LP
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"Navigating by Starlight is the elegantly distended fourth LP by a New York band known for its fine taste in bourbon as well as its ability to explore strangely forested nooks of space. Composed of two side-long excursions of heavily bearded improv, this is what Bruce Dern should have been listening to throughout Douglas Trumbull's Silent Running. The first side is called 'Lovejoy Vapor Trail,' after the recently discovered comet said to be releasing enough alcohol to fill 500 bottles of George T. Stagg every second. Who could fail to be staggered by such a suggestion? Not these guys. Dave Shuford's guitar vomits stars in all known directions, Jimy SeiTang's bass and synth cover the proceedings with a blanket of darkness, and Rob Smith's drums drive things along like a pulsar. The flip, 'Scylla and Charybdis,' continues Rhyton's linguistic love affair with Ancient Greece. But with Shuford on electric mandolin, and the rhythm section picking their way between the twin threats more carefully than usual, the band creates a vibe that is more space-swamp than whirlpool (at least in this writer's opinion). By which I mean its method of sucking you into its vortex is staggered rather than continuous. Of course, once you've stuck your head into Rhtyon's sound-barrel, the specifics of destruction don't matter much do they? 500 bottles of Stagg a second . . . that would sure take care of the world shortage, wouldn't it?" --Byron Coley
After crafting Kykeon, the most detailed and finely intermeshed recording of their output, the cosmic compatriots Rhyton decided to get back to basics and kick out the jams with both ferocity and stateliness. Navigating by Starlight features two sidelong improvised slices of molten music recorded by the redoubtable Jason Meagher at apex temperatures at his Black Dirt Studio in upstate New York. The first side, "Lovejoy Vapor Trail," follows a journey from an initial solemn invocation through areas of blinding scree toward a summit of relaxed but rough and tough guitar elevation. The second side, with its natural bifurcation, was an instant composition of two halves that balance perfectly and exhibit a subdued menace.
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