Archive for April, 2021

French Fried Prog

Tuesday, April 20th, 2021

I’ve put up two episodes of my movie podcast, Cinema Oblivia, since my last blog post, and I’m quite happy with both of them. First up, Shane Bettenhausen, formerly of EGM and 1Up, occasionally of Retronauts, joined me to talk about the so-bad-it’s-really-bad camp classic The Apple. And then, my good friend Matt recorded an episode with me about Joysticks, the incredibly bad 1983 sex comedy set in an arcade.

I don’t plan on regularly dumping on bad movies with my podcast, it just kind of worked out from a scheduling standpoint. This coming Thursday the quality of films I’ll be discussing does slightly improve, as my friend Erik Pepple joins me to talk about Rad (a bad movie about BMX) and BMX Bandits (a very good movie about BMX). And next week is the big one that I’m very much looking forward to y’all hearing, when I’m joined by Giant Bomb’s Alex Navarro to talk about Sam Peckinpah’s bloody boozy classic, Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia.

New episodes go up EVERY THURSDAY MORNING so check them out sometime! And spread the word! I got big plans for that sucker, but I need at least a little bit of an audience first!

Okay, enough shameless self-promotion. Here’s an all French prog rock post because why not.

 

Adonia
Approche Sur A
Orgasmachine
Adonia was a one-off act featuring two members of influential early electronic prog pioneers Heldon (Richard Pinhas and François Auger) along with Hervé Picart, who seemed to be the real brainchild behind the thing if the liner notes are any indication. Picart composed the entire album, with Pinhas arranged it and provided his trademark spacey guitar riffs to each track, while Auger played drums.

Heldon is a weird band and a band that I always want to like more than I actually do. Truth be told, I prefer this album to Heldon proper. Picart’s compositions are just grounded more in reality for me, I guess. They work better as music that I want to listen to, instead of the sonic experiments that seem to make up most of the Heldon/Pinhas stuff I’ve discovered. I think the only Heldon album I prefer over this is their final release, Stand By, which is a fantastic record that I recommend to anyone with a penchant for electronic/minimal/ambient/Tangerine Dream/whatever type music.

I don’t know what to compare these two tracks to. My go to reference point for any music like this is Tangerine Dream, but that really doesn’t do it justice. It features far more guitars and actual drums than any Tangerine Dream album that I can think of. Maybe Cluster? Harmonia? Neu!? It’s very Krautrock, that’s for sure. Despite the fact that it’s from France. I also appreciate the idiocy of a track called “Orgasmachine” especially when’s as anti-sexy as this track is. Amazing, fantastic, great guitar work on it though. Really trippy shit.

 

Eden
La Nuit Des Sorciers
Theme O.V.N.I.
Another one-off act from France, and one I know even less about than Adonia. Eden was a duo, comprised of Allan Lys on percussion, and Hubert Vrayance on…everything else. Most of the songs on the album have a strong electronic feel to them, but the duo weren’t afraid to keep things more ogranic. This is a very bongo heavy album, and “La Nuit Des Sorciers” starts with organ and drums before the synthesizers and other electronic elements move into the mix.

“Theme O.V.N.I” (don’t ask me what it stands for, I have no idea), on the other hand, is much more electronic. While the first track is built entirely around an organ melody, this one layers multitudes of synthesizers and other electronic sounds on top, with acoustic drums serving as a backbone. It’s fucking rad. The drums really move. It almost reminds me like an electronic version of The Ventures or something, but with a classical bent? All while being primarily electronic? Am I making any sense at all? Probably not, oh well. I got bigger things to worry about than “am I properly describing the French electronic prog act correctly.”

The only thing that I can find out about either member of this group is on a review from Prog Archives, which claims that Vrayance quit music to become a police officer. I have no idea if that’s true, but I can’t imagine that would be the kind of information that someone would go out of their way to make up. In my head-cannon, dude kept a rack of synths behind his office. I don’t know why, but I like that image.

 

THX
Telstar
Richard Pinhas and François Auger come again with this one-off release of a cover “Telstar” that was released as a single under the name THX in 1978. I feel that it’s a safe bet to say that they named themselves after the Lucas movie THX-1138, given the duo’s tendency for sci-fi and spacey sounds. This is a very good version of Telstar, which is one of my all-time favorite songs, and it’s probably the most poppy thing that Richard Pinhas ever played on, unless he did a cover of a Beatles track or something and I just don’t know about it.

I could listen to “Telstar” covers all day. In fact, I’m depressed as hell and need something to cheer me up, so I just might do that.

Enka Synths

Sunday, April 4th, 2021

I hope you’re not sick of me talking about my podcast, Cinema Oblivia, because I’m about to talk about my podcast, Cinema Oblivia.

Sorry (not sorry).

The podcast has actually been going pretty well. It’s not setting the world on fire or anything like that, but I didn’t expect it to, especially out of the gate. I’ve been really happy with every episode so far. It’s been a while since my last post here, and I’ve put up quite a few episodes since then.

On March 18, Madeline Koestner and I talked about William Friedkin’s amazing forgotten film Sorcerer, a wild flick about a group of goons transporting nitroglycerin through a South American hellscape. It’s a fantastic movie (with a soundtrack by Tangerine Dream!) and you should totally watch it (and listen to that episode). After that Emma Buntrock-Miller joined me to discuss Brian De Palma’s wacked-out horror-musical Phantom of The Paradise. This movie stars Paul Williams and was a major influence on Daft Punk, so if that sounds cool to you, maybe check it out.

Last week I put up the strangest episode to date. Dr. Sparkle of Chrontendo fame called me up to talk about Seeds, a batshit crazy movie by the late not-so-great Andy Milligan. Even if you haven’t heard of that movie (and let’s be real, you probably haven’t) I think the episode is well worth a listen; we dive into some pretty cool topics like lost films and gay underground cinema.

I’ve already recorded the bulk of the episodes that are going up in April and I’m excited to share them with you. This week Shane Bettenhausen and I talk about the disco nightmare that is The Apple, and the following week an old friend of mine joins me to discuss the 1983 video game sex comedy (yes, really), Joysticks. After that, Erik Pepple, a film scholar and another old friend of mine, comes on for the first Cinema Oblivia double-feature, Rad and BMX Bandits! And finally, I’m very excited to say that I’m closing out the month talking about one of my all-time favorite movies, Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia. Joining me on that episode is none other than Giant Bomb’s own Alex Navarro! Wow!

Let’s celebrate with the most obscure album I’ve ever shard on this site. Seriously. I think it’s the all-time winner.

Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer
The Charm of Synthesizer: Japanese Melody (Complete Album download)

I’ve been sitting on this one for a while now. I keep saying to myself that I’m going to dig deep and try to uncover more about it, but each time I try, I turn up with nothing. Here’s what I know.

This is a very early project by Matsutake Hideki, aka Logic System. I’ve written about him before, (hell, I even met him once). He was the synthesizer programmer on the early Yellow Magic Orhestra albums, and he’s had quite the career aside from that both as a solo artist and a studio musician. Here, he’s working under the odd (and incorrectly spelled) name of Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer.

From what I can gather, Matsutake released three albums under this name; Synthesizer 美しき日本の抒情; シンセサイザーが奏でる日本の名歌 – 都会の夜; and this one The Charm of Synthesizer: Japanese Melody. Again, from what I can tell, the first two were issued on LP, while this may have been a cassette only release. There may have been more “Shateau” albums too, I just don’t know.

I’m sorry for the all the caveats and uncertainty, but I literally can find zero information on these albums online in English. And what little I managed to find in Japanese haven’t been much of a help. Again, I can’t even find release dates on these albums. That’s insanely rare for Japanese albums. Most Japanese records print the release date on the cover, down to the day of the week. I don’t know why these are so lacking. I’m sure some of you are saying “well, just go to Discogs,” but they don’t have the release dates either. And trust me, I would know since I entered most of the data and took all of the pictures for all of the releases on the Discogs page!

However, one of the “Shateau” tracks did appear on the Logic System box set that came out a couple years back. On there, the track was given a release date of 1976. That’s the same year that Matsutake released his very first album under his own name, alongside fellow Japanese synthesizer pioneer Tsuneaki Tone, Pop Memories on Moog III. Again though, I really should caveat that with another maybe. There is a “III” in that album’s name, after all. They could have recorded something even before that. Still, I feel that it’s safe to say that the “Shateau” releases probably came out no earlier than 1975, and no later than 1977. These albums are very simple.  By 1978 he was experimenting with more complex arrangements, and in the following year he was working with YMO on their debut record.

All the songs on all the Shateau albums are covers of enka songs. Enka is a genre of music that’s often described as “traditional Japanese pop music” and I guess that’s accurate. It’s very pre-rock type stuff. Almost exclusively ballads. It’s the kind of shit that Japanese grandparents just fucking go apeshit for. Obviously, I’m not familiar with the original versions of any of these tracks. So I can’t tell you how many liberties Matsutake is taking with the source material. Given how barren and simple these tracks are though, I feel it’s safe to say that these are probably relatively faithful to the original versions, just like a lot of other early synthesizer covers of pop tunes.

Despite my complete lack of cultural awareness for anything on this album, I do really enjoy listening to it. Most enka songs are usually sad or melancholy, and it translates really well to the minimal arrangements that Matsutake put forth on all of these releases. They’re all so bizarre, like music out of time, obviously very old but recorded in a (then) very new way. Listening to them transports me to another reality, a retro-futuristic world where everyone is dressed like 1950s gangsters, but somehow all have cyberpunk gear hooked up to their trench coats. It’s detached and unfamiliar to anything else I’ve ever heard. It’s so my jam.

None of the Shateau albums I have sound particularly great from an audio perspective, sadly. The records are all pretty banged up, and this tape has seen better days too. Of the lot, I think this tape rip is the best though. It’s a little muddled, and there’s a weird audio glitch in one track that I just couldn’t remove, but overall it’s very clean and clear. I prefer a slightly muddy recording to a heavily scratched one, that’s for sure. If the quality bothers you, I recommend listening on your speakers instead of headphones, it sounds better that way for sure.

Let me know what you think of this one in the comments. I know it’s really out there, but I it’s so fascinating to me.