Erase Errata - other animals (2001)

Erase Errata were amongst the more extreme practitioners of the dance-punk movement of the early 00's, essentially harking back to the no-wave of the late 70's and the spazz-rock of Brainiac from the 90's, as introduced by "Tongue Tied". The highlight was how the lead-guitar indulged in manic geometrical shapes within the already effervescent structures of the tracks.

This practice hinted towards a schizophrenic version of math-rock, as in "Bully Mummy", which basically enhanced Ludus' program from the early 80's, further shown in "Delivery". In the meantime, the noise-funk "Marathon" felt like a more extreme version of the Bush Tetras, while also remembering the Gang of Four in "Other Animals Are #1", and let's not forget the inventor of the chaotic math-no-wave, the Captain Beefheart of Trout Mask Replica, in the multi-layered chaos of "High Society".

Following that, the sheer noise of "..." reminded of the spasms of DNA. On the other hand, "French Canadia" was pure hysterical progressive-rock. Again, Ludus was the benchmark, a characteristic that was manifesting itself as intense and groovy in "How To Tell Yourself from A Television", or obsessive and ceremonial in "C. Rex", as impressive short circuits in "Walk Don't Fly", and finally resulting in spastic electrons trying to escape the confines of the atom in "---". Get it here.

Ludus - mother's hour (1981)

"Mother's Hour" dispensed with the long progressive complex structures of their other work, but intensified the chaotic approach. At two minutes, this raised a tribal hell, free-form guitar noise, cathartic screams, yet still was perversely danceable and groovy. The B-side, "Patient", was not as spastic, but still sounded like a lounge-jazz tropicalia band having a panic attack. Ludus prove to be a quite versatile outfit. Get it here.

Half Japanese - loud (1981)

A sprawling, spazztastic nerdcore no-wave attack, backed by a competent band that veers in off-kilter free-jazz and damaged ethnic mayhem (two saxophones, two drum-sets), occasionally revisiting the Pere Ubu-esque modern dance in a more dissonant form ("Gift"), and of course the Beefheart-ian damaged blues ("I Know How It Feels. Bad."), and further enhanced by the vitriolic lyrics. Get it here.

Butthole Surfers - rembrandt pussyhorse (1986)

Arguably, their masterpiece. "Creep In The Cellar" served as a timid introduction, turning just a bit more sinister and damaged in "Sea Ferring", more than ever applying their art-damaged punk aesthetics to a broader American context, not urban, but modern rural, as if freak redneck farmers from Texas living in their own decadent incestuous microcosm. An unrecognizable mutilated cover of "American Woman" supported this impression, veering into psychedelic tribal chaos, while later resembling a mutant electro-rap. "Waiting For Jimmy To Kick" revisited the debut's acid-punk from another perspective, more sound-effect laden, with more ambitious arrangements, no less severe, no less drug-fueled.

Ever increasing the intensity, "Strangers Die Everyday" was a delirious requiem, an organ mass gurgling in a lake of LSD, creating nightmares. In "Perry" they paid tribute to their godfathers, Chrome and their supersonic acid punk-rock, albeit from an american populist defunkt robotic point of view. Then "Whirling Hall of Knives" assumed the form of a vibrant raga, glowing as if splattered with radioactive waste, marching and ponderous, self-transcendental amidst the miasmatic atmosphere. It was a recipe that got more rarified in "Mark Says Alright", before turning to a disorienting and abstract nightmare in the reprise of "In The Cellar". Get it here.

Animal Collective - here comes the indian (2003)

It seems funny now, when considering the kind of stature they enjoy today amongst the indie community, how uncompromising the Animal Collective used to be. "Native Belle", a direct continuation of the spirit of Danse Manatee (their masterpiece), was an even more abstract tribal chant amidst a jungle ambience. "Hey Light" went further beyond, basically a flat-out free-form acid-trip, and ditto for the 12-minute "Two Sails On A Sound".

In "Infant Dressing Table", the musique concrète sampling turned to a mechanical chant. In "Panic", it was the reverse, it was the tribal chanting that formed a musique concrète ballet. After such excruciating dadaist environments, the hyperactive pop oddity "Slippi" came as some sort of relief, and felt like a cover of The Trashmen' "Surfin' Bird", paving the way for the fluid defunct chirping of "Too Soon". Get it here.

Tuxedomoon - joeboy in mexico (1998)

Tuxedomoon had another partial reunion in 1998 (Brown and Principle) with the release of Joeboy in Mexico, and to their credit, this sounds closer to the post-rock generation than to new-wave revival. The industrial/ jazz/ ethnic collages "Door", "Viaje En La Sierra Madre", "Les Six", "Bitter Bark", "Hindi Loop" etc have something of the expanded noise jams of Jackie-O Motherfucker, or the disjointed elements of some Legendary Pink Dots works. It's rare that jam-based music can be successful, but this makes the grade, despite a few tracks ("Zombie Paradise 1") being overlong and slightly unfocused. Get it here.

Angels Of Light - everything is good here / please come home (2003)

Having exorcised himself from the tension of the Swans, Michael Gira reinvented himself as a folk-shaman that turned to mysticism and religion for inspiration, as evidenced by "Palisades", a mystical folk/gospel that went back to Buffy Sainte Marie's Illuminations as a point of reference. The obsessive, almost delirious boogie/ hymn "All Souls' Rising", viewed the other side of the same shape, whereupon Gira recaptured some of the Swans' frenzy, but the gentle psychedelic raga serenade "Kosinski" retreated back to a delicate emotional balance.

The solemn folk lullaby "The Family God" grew more vibrant, eventually radiating a spiritual choral grandeur, but "Rose Of Los Angeles" freaked out, in what was essentially a devilish folk-dance ceremony. Clearly Gira was not freed from all his demons yet. His mystical folk acquired it's most spiritual guise yet in "Sunset Park", a folk chant which rotated like a nebulae until it ascended to a heaven-like trance. "Wedding" was the dizzy aftermath of this vision, but still acknowledging the existence of the mystical forces that exist around us. "What Will Come" was a much more somber aftermath, a mournful stream of metaphysical ambience that had no other way to go but to keep recycling itself in cul-de-sac tension. Get it here.