DRAG CITY News

Bill MacKay and Drag City are delirious with pride to announce the discovery of a new territory: Locust Land, a record which seeks to reflect the nerve-shredding consciousness run amok in our world today - and somehow allay it with sound. Bill"s music is a visceral crackling where it meets the air, and Locust Land can"t help but reflect its era more than any other in his discography. It"s been five years since the release of Fountain Fire - but in the interim, Bill has barely stopped moving, collaborating with artists across the spectrum, including cellist Katinka Kleijn, banjo player Nathan Bowles and keyboardist Cooper Crain. He"s also contributed to recordings by Steve Gunn, Ryley Walker, Bill Callahan & Bonnie Prince Billy (Blind Date Party), and Black Duck (on their self-titled record featuring Douglas McCombs and Charles Rumback). Forget five years - how"d he even get Locust Land squeezed out of his temporal lobes? Bill"s sense of music as art is constantly modulating - lifting off from where it is found and naturally migrating to some other place. Sometimes, that"s elsewhere - others, it"s simply to be found deeper inside the starting point. And so, the action of moving on informs the landscape of Locust Land. This manifests in several different ways. A restless energy and urgency is repeatedly felt - in the driving momentum of "Keeping in Time," "Glow Drift," and "When I Was Here" - while a dogged persistence radiates from the tone colors and percussion of "Oh, Pearl." Mating a dirge-like desolation with sparkling guitars, "Radiator" adds darkness and depth. The sense of searching, displacement and longing in vocal tracks "Keeping in Time," "Half of You," and "When I Was Here" speak literally to the tumult of current vibrations. Within the arrangements, there"s also departure from previous norms - in addition to the brilliant guitar work for which he is known, Bill plays a variety of keyboards, from piano to organ to synth, extending his music with the available voicings, while enriching the sound field without abandoning his signature brevity. For fans of his singing, and following in the recent tradition of Fountain Fire as well as his collaboration with Nathan Bowles, Keys, Locust Land expresses with an increased vocal presence - and heightened engagement, with Bill"s words and melodies drawing us closer. Also different: on his previous solo recordings, Bill played every sound. Here, he has invited other illustrious Chicagoans to join him: Sam Wagster (The Father Costume, Mute Duo) plays bass on three songs, two of which feature the percussion playing of Mikel Patrick Avery (Natural Information Society, Jeff Parker, etc.). Additionally, Janet Beveridge Bean (Eleventh Dream Day, Freakwater) adds otherworldly vocal textures to the elegiac "Neil"s Field." Whether played alone or with companions, this music projects the strength of a universal collective. Even with a piece that might earlier have passed for blissful pastorale, Bill displays some declamatory motives. The reverie which opens the album, "Phantasmic Fairy," embodies both transcendent and desperate moods, with Bill"s ineffable slide guitar playing afloat, with organs and synths, in a dream state suffused with a sense of foreboding - a requiem, perhaps for the days of unencumbered bandwidth? On the other side of the album, the strength to continue to hope appears in the lifting melodicism/exoticism of the album-closing title track, leaving the listener with the sense of having achieved a hard-won space - a place of personal contemplation and dissent, one that everyone on the planet deserves to visit every single day on earth. With cover art also by Bill MacKay (the third of his albums on Drag City to feature his work), Locust Land stands as a thoroughly personal statement from Bill to everyone everywhere.

This is long overdue. I mean, looooooonnnnnng overdue. A solo album by Jim. The trap kit - so straightforward, so mysterious. What"s inside those things? Air and light - from which century? Which continent? Which planet? Depending on how and when you hit them it can be a vibration sent through a prehistoric breath, particles of Saturn"s atmosphere, the dead, wet leaves you walked through on the way to the first day of school. These are the memories of the drums on this record. Infinite and personal. Editing each other as they muscle to the front or soft shoe to the shadow. Cymbals can override/cancel everything out - wipe your memory clear or make the memory clearer. Drums are the instrument where you can feel the presence of the player the most - the full body - and sense the thoughts of the player the most. The instrument with the most choices to be made sends out the most brainwaves. A bouquet of brainwaves is on this LP. Jim oversees it all, surveys from the lost place we"re in, the void - the drumless song. We trust. We trust, Jim. His big green eyes search for the right tool (mallet, brush, etc), eyes that search you like you"re a song he wants to join, wants to see if he can add to or understand. Before humans, drums were playing - these drums. Genesis was a solo drum piece. After humans, these drums, this album. Someone - the last man - is out in a spaceship at the edge of space. He plays a single chord on a synth to set time free from its bind and then lets go. This album sets time free, lets it frolic, lets it graze, lets it remember. This is a record of thoughts, memories, surgery. A deft surgical operation you may not even realize is happening as it"s happening but you"re back on your feet when it"s over. Memories refreshed. Did you really even listen to it? -Bill Callahan, November 2023

Ty Segall follows 2022"s acoustic introspection opus "Hello, Hi" with a deeper, wilder journey to the center of the self. With Three Bells, he"s created a set of his most ambitious, elastic songs, using his musical vocabulary with ever-increasing sophistication. It"s an obsessive quest for an expression that answers back to the riptide always pulling him subconsciously into the depths. Questions we all ask in our own private mirrors are faced down here - and regardless of what the mysterious "Three Bells" mean in the context of the album"s libretto, you can be assured that Ty"s ringing them for himself, and for the rest of us in turn.

Neil Hamburger presents a new work from the songwriting team of Gregg Turkington and Erik Paparozzi. Seasonal Depression Suite is an album-based musical, sung by an all-star cast whose voices embody various guests stuck in a perfectly average chain-hotel, wallowing in self-pity and paranoia, re-living personal catastrophes both real and imagined, or simply trying to use the hotel vending machine. Expert music played by an all-star band, to boot! To sing these parts, a once-in-a-lifetime all-star cast was assembled - including Neil Finn (Split Enz, Crowded House, Fleetwood Mac), Annabella Lwin (Bow Wow Wow), Alan Bishop (Sun City Girls), Bonnie Prince Billy, acclaimed singer/performance artist Puddles Pity Party, voice actress Natalie Peyser, J.P. Hasson (Pleaseeasaur), enigmatic vocalist (and Frank Sinatra"s granddaughter) A.J. Lambert, Paparozzi himself and, of course, Neil Hamburger. Among the many musicians accompanying the cast were Scarlet Rivera (Bob Dylan"s Rolling Thunder Revue), Danny Heifetz (Mr Bungle), Bär McKinnon (Mr Bungle), Prairie Prince (The Tubes), Atom Ellis (Dieselhed), Jason Schimmel (Secret Chiefs 3), and Alex Jules (The Monkees band) - an international assemblage whose talents give Seasonal Depression Suite its epic sweep. With all hands on board, Turkington and Paparozzi created their own kind of masterpiece, like Sinatra"s late-period concept album Watertown fused with the misfit comedy of Neil Hamburger - a work that looks at a cast of characters both ordinary and bizarre, as they make their way from one grievance to another, traveling from place to place, hoping to live, while waiting to die.

Moments of eternity: the first plucks at the strings, a bass note cementing the drift into place a little more than a minute in. The organ drones, iterating unrelivable ancient history, a chiming note of the church. Guitars strings, climbing that stairway to heaven. Gossamer-light when viewed from a distance; up close, the gears grind with a visceral physicality. With BCMC, Cooper Crain and Bill MacKay unite to create Foreign Smokes: provocalogues, equal parts avant-garde noir and fire-and-icy jams to recall bright shades and warm stretches of infinity drawn through the buzzy overdrive of this side of life"s strange and sunny days. Cooper"s organ and synths and Bill"s guitar draw songs from spontaneous statements and elegiac scraps, floating closer, then farther, and closer again to the sounds of the other. Starting with a melody, as set of progressions or even as little as a scale or just a key, gives room for either one of "em to take the lead, depending on where they are or are going at any given time. The reigning motif most often seems to be, to melt and wind around each other"s sound, part of a singular undulation, handed back and forth, a slowly emerging trip up into and through an ideal of exuberance.

Cory Hanson"s third solo LP follows upon 2020"s luminescent Pale Horse Rider, upping the heat to molten levels, six strings at a time. In search of further adventures, Cory draws with vampiric glee from the madness coursing through the world outside; a spiraling shitshow that"s reawakened a compulsion in him - an old ambition, even! - to crush brutality and elegance together into a fresh set of rocks to hail down upon us. Western Cum is a high-stepping, hard-dancing, first love/heartbreak, tonight"s-the-night, future nostalgia kind of good time - the sound of guitars through the speakers of luxury cars. Like the dream you had once, alone, asleep in an amplifier, blasting Guns N" Roses through every last orifice in your body. And it"s coming through! Western Cum"s map to the treasure is less about pastiche, though; more toward executing the songs by executioner"s axe, rolling their decapitated rhythm heads and soaring melodies, the panoply of Cory"s melodic impulses with guitars, guitars, guitars. Harmony leads are just the tip of the iceberg, but be quick - the guitars like to melt everything in their path! The eight songs of Western Cum are driven by the stalwart bass of brother Casey Hanson and the drums of Evan Backer with a few passing acoustics from Cory and the intermittent spirit-moans of Tyler Nuffer"s steel guitar. The quartet sound - two guitars, bass and drums - acts as beat-making principle/phrasing device, as well as template for Cory"s layers of six-string and vocal textures. From the rooftop of their musical safe house - the band in their makeshift hut and Cory ensconced in an outhouse - they let loose with a blast both face-melting and mind-blowing: a social service that gives constipation a good name.

Tape
"And we"re coming out of dreams / And we"re coming back to dreams" is the first thing you hear Bill say as you remake your acquaintance on YTILAER. Right out the gate, he"s standing in two places at once: meeting up with old friends behind the scenes and encountering them on the record, finding himself coming round the bend and then again as someone else on down the line. Like the character actor he played on Gold Record, writing stories about other people, telling jokes about everyone, and in singing them, becoming the songs. "You do what you"ve got to do / To see the picture" Bill"s got a full band sound going on this one, with him and Matt Kinsey on guitars, Emmett Kelly on bass and backing vocals, Sarah Ann Phillips on B3, piano and backing vocals and Jim White on drums. Jim and Matt sing on one song, too, and some other singers come in, too. Bill plays some synth here and there, and Carl Smith drifts in and out of the picture with his contra alto clarinet, as do Mike St. Clair and Derek Phelps on brass. Somehow in between them all, you might think you hear the distant sound of a steel guitar. And you might - but you might not, too. In this company, Bill continues his journey, tunneling underneath the weathered exterior of what seems to be and into the more nuanced life everything takes on in the dark. With Bill"s voice making the extraordinary leaps and bounds that measure the lives of the songs, the band follow him through passages that seem to invent themselves; other times playing with deeply soulful grooves and/or desperate intensity, as these moments come and go. There"s nothing they can"t do. "I wrote this song in five and forever / I"m writing it right now" Bill sings on "Natural Information" - an admission of the everyday alchemy he"s forever trafficking in. Time passes, triangulating the encounters that went into any one record with two out of any three others, all of it made flesh, new constitution, in our stereo speakers. If every album is its own life, it stands to reason that they"re invariably passing in the night. Cascading images flowing from the stream of consciousness. Turning like pages from the journal, unspeakably personal, then suddenly become tall tales, like a book pulled off the shelf, completely unbound. Headlines flow through. Mirror images, mirthful ones. Bill"s lyrics strain at the lines on the page, not content to separate the printing of the fact from the myth or be confined to ink on paper. They want to fly free. And they do. "I realize now that dreams are real" On YTILAER"s inner sleeve, alongside his lyrics, Bill celebrates the "exhilaration and dread" of cover artist Paul Ryan"s paintings. Paul"s another one met up with again down the road, his indelible cover imagery on Apocalypse and Dream River now an axis of meaning in the Callahanian world - and in the bright colors found in these new images, a parallel to Bill"s recognitions here. "A breath of exquisite air as we come up from drowning", sounds like the desired hope for those hearing the songs of YTILAER.

Formed in 2014 in Chicago by partners Joshua Condon
and Eliza Weber, Glyders have kept busy, lighting up
shows around town and country ever since then with their
mystery sound, on the road when and where they could
from here to Europe, taking time also to self-release a
couple of EPs (‘DIM’ and ‘Lend a Hand’).
 Fuelled by Josh’s spectral vocals and the liquidity created
by his guitar and Eliza’s bass, Glyders’ mazy spacecraft
takes to the air from the empty parking lot out back of the
roadhouse and finds in its arc an anodyne of the trippy and
the wiggy / ghostly places lost and found. Glyders have it
both ways, rocking the white line with fervour but also
stopping to soak up the fragrance of the purple sage and
the queen of the night by the side of the road.
 They’ve cut their records at home, with Josh delving deep
in the pleasures of analogue recording, finding the
embodiment of their subterranean fascinations with twists
and turns of the dial in a space they’ve dubbed the Juicy
Lagoon. Steeped in the pop and psychedelic enigmas of
rock and roll yore, the buzzing of tubes and transients and
uncontainable rumble, Glyders make it shake and live in
front of the tape machine and real audiences alike with a
flexible, expansive palette of sounds and a tight bunch of
songs.
 For their first vinyl full-length, the watchword, as ever, is
‘maximal minimal’. These kids are up around the bend and
in it for the long haul. After a few line-up shifts over the
years, they’re settled down with drummer Joe Seger and
are fixing their sights on the far horizons. If you see
Glyders choogling down the track, pull up and get set for
‘Maria’s Hunt’.

Oren Ambarchi is a composer and multi-instrumentalist who has long been interested in transcending conventional instrumental approaches. His work focuses mainly on exploring the guitar, "taking the instrument into a zone of alien abstraction where it is no longer readily identifiable as such. Instead, it is a laboratory for extended sonic investigations". The album is titled Shebang and is said to be an extension of past "rhythmic long-form workouts" found on Ambarchi"s 2014 album Quixotism and 2016"s Hubris. Like those albums, Shebang features contributions from a number of guest artists, including Konrad Sprenger, Jim O"Rourke, Julia Reidy and Chris Abrahams. It follows Ambarchi"s collaborative album with Johan Berthling and Andreas Werliin, Ghosted, which was released by Drag City in April and was recently one of tQ"s favourite albums of the year.

‘Amorpha’, a side-long shower of synthetic bells and bass, as
patterns interlock and repeat and the beat within the bar lines
shifts constantly, forms a new, latest miniature of infinity. You flip
it, and ‘Geomancy’ resets you, starting anew, with heavy drift and
drone leading into a space of shorter broken lines and Middle
Eastern tonalities, that roll back into ether again - new spaces, but
mysteriously consonant with the vibe.
 ‘Bajascillators’ arrives almost five years since their last official fulllength, 2017’s ‘Bajas Fresh’. In the eight years prior to ‘Bajas
Fresh’, Bitchin Bajas issued seven albums, plus cassettes, EPs,
singles… wave after wave of analogue synth tones and zones
extending into a stratospheric arc. Each release its own
headspace, shape and timbre, each one sliding naturally into their
implacable, eternal gene pool.
 Following the flow, always, the Bajas went ever-deeper-and-higher
on these records, whether making soundtracks or collaborating
with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, using only fortune cookie fortunes as a
libretto. Plus engagement, with a steady stream of shows and
tours around the world; live re-airings and expansions of the space
captured in their records as they continued to grow and flow - all
the way through, really, to the present moment.
 Plus, there have been releases since 2017 - a split 12”, a 7”
single, digital track release and two ‘Cuts’ cassettes, plus the allcovers cassette release ‘Switched On Ra’. But the overall number
of releases, plus the five years between long players, implies a
potential distance between phases, a new line in the sand. The
sound of Bajascillators bear this out. How couldn’t it? Compared to
2017, this is a different world.
 Mastered directly from half-inch analogue tape, ‘Bajascillators’
floats transparently from the speakers, its expansive grooves
gathering resonance and building momentum over the four sides,
from genesis to re-conclusion, cascading ecstatically. The elastic
magic of time at its brightest. As the world keeps turning, so too do
Bitchin Bajas, in the same unknowable way. You can’t explain it -
just keep turning.

For their Drag City debut, the enigmatic duo expand into eight-armed wonder; all the better to reach ever-deeper into their bag o' tricks. Slinky and sliding elegantly, the kids forge tunes with a harmony of ambiguity and nostalgia, effortless yet precise, and rounded with thick bottom - a dancing clash of cognition and dissonance! Since 2015, Kamikaze Palm Tree have been a relative mystery. Now, in times no less mysterious, Drag City welcomes them, celebrating the energy of their second LP, where KPT play their offbeat strain of 21st century rock. Making MINT CHIP, Dylan Hadley and Cole Berliner reach deeper into their bag of tricks than ever before, dialoguing with an absurd shared intent they haven't yet paused to question. The off-center pieces gathered together for Good Boy have given way to pulsing aquatic compositions on MINT CHIP. Cole's guitar tones, wire thin, bell-like, bluesily downtuned, slinky and sliding elegantly, arc purposeful around their peripherals. Dylan's kit work, effortless yet precise, grounded with heavy bottom, drives and interacts organically with all the emerging structure, nailing down finely detailed frames and canvases to backdrop her singing and the unremitting landing of melodies and songs. With the addition of Josh Puklavetz, things that didn't make sense before - like bass - are now on the beach, fully lotioned, essence to essence. Violin and clarinet (Laena Myers Ionita and Brad Caulkins, respectively) round out the tonal spectrum. All strung together in the foothills of Altadena's Wiggle World Studios with Hartling back in the engineer's seat and Tim Presley producing the proceedings!

The Blind Date Party hosted by Bill Callahan and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy
and featuring AZITA, Matt Sweeney, Alasdair Roberts, Matt Kinsey,
Sean O’Hagan, Bill MacKay, George Xylouris, Dead Rider, David Pajo,
Mick Turner, Meg Baird, Ty Segall, Emmett Kelly, Cory Hanson, Six
Organs of Admittance, David Grubbs, Cassie Berman, Cooper Crain and
Sir Richard Bishop happened online in the autumn and winter of 2020 -
2021 but the party planning dated back to the spring of 2020.
 Stuck at home, with no gigs in the foreseeable future, Bill, Bonnie and
Drag City needed an outreach program to keep themselves busy, not to
mention sane. In the absence of any company or anything on the
calendar, playing songs they loved was an idea; playing with people they
loved, the desire. And making it fun - so pairing someone with someone
else having no say in the matter, the essence of the blind date, was the
plan. Favourite songs were chosen; players from around the Drag City
galaxy were messaged. Pretty soon, songs were flying back and forth -
music in the air.
 By autumn, the songs started to appear online: Bill and Bonnie singing a
song by someone they loved and admired; each song cut by another
artist they loved and admired, then sent to Bill and Bonnie to provide the
finishing touches. The spotlight pointed in every direction each week:
toward the singers and writers who’d originally played the songs (Yusuf
Islam, Hank Williams Jr., Dave Rich, The Other Years, Billie Eilish,
Steely Dan, Lou Reed, Bill Callahan, Jerry Jeff Walker, Robert Wyatt,
Lowell George, Johnnie Frierson, Air Supply, Will Oldham, Leonard
Cohen, David Berman, Iggy Pop and John Prine), toward their featured
collaborators, the artists whose artwork adorned each digital single and
videos made by still more collaborators.
 Like the best parties, it turned out to be everything and more than they’d
even hoped for. So many more people were involved in the process that
would on the page here. Suffice to say, making records over the years
has required a broad sense of community and an always-surprising mix
of independence and unity, inspiration and utility. Some of the best
memories are those where as many of our folks as possible were
together in one place at one time. The Blind Date Party was one of
these, maybe the most improbable one yet. It’s for everyone who’s here
and it’s in the name of everyone who’s gone but will never go and will
always live with us here. This album will too.

With ‘Harmonizer’, his first album in two years, Ty Segall glides
smoothly into unexpected territory, right where he likes to find
himself. Responding to the challenge his new songs gave him: a
synth-tastic production redesign, Ty kicks back with bottom-heavy
creativity, dialling up a wealth of guitar and keyboard settings to do
the deed.
 ‘Harmonizer’ is a glossy, barely-precedented sound for him, and
truth, it enraptures the ear - but in Ty’s hands, the sound is also a
tool that allows him to cut through dense undergrowth, making for
some of his cleanest songs and starkest ideas to date.
‘Harmonizer’’s production model couches tightly-controlled beats
in thick keyboard textures, with direct-input guitar signal whining
and buzzing purposefully from left to right.
 The Freedom Band appear all over the record, but often one at a
time, their contributions leaving a distinctive footprint on the
proceedings wherever they appear. Operating in this airtight
environment with an eye towards precision, feel, and explosive
mass, Ty’s crafted a formidable listening encounter - and once you
get between the lines, the need to know more grows more
compelling with every song.
 The first recording to be released from Ty’s just-completed
Harmonizer Studios, ‘Harmonizer’ benefits from a collaboration
with Cooper Crain, who co-produced the album with Ty. The Venn
diagram of these guys unites them in DIY/punk dyed-in-thewooldom; Ty’s propers you know, but Cooper’s own unique
journey in rhythm, minimalism and DIY (as heard on his
productions with CAVE, Bitchin Bajas and Jackie Lynn) mines the
depths around Ty’s peerless vocal attack and aid in the latest
chapter of his never-ending search for unfathomably corrosive
guitar sounds.
 Bursting with transcendent energy, ‘Harmonizer’ is an extension of
the classic style of ‘Emotional Mugger’ and ‘Sleeper’, revisiting the
lonely days and loathsome nights of the alienated, grown-upwrong soul, to make it all right in the end.

Lingering at the remains of a campfire before dawn, with the politics of the personal burnt into ash, running his stick through what’s left, Wand singer/guitarist Cory Hanson is reflecting on a series of moments in which he steps farther into himself, finding the ultimate big sky country on the inside of his skull. It’s a combination of songs and sounds that journey
through bleak and broken territory and places of sweet, lush remove and it adds up to the best record he’s been involved in yet: his second solo album, ‘Pale Horse Rider’.

 Cory’s first solo, ‘The Unborn Capitalist From Limbo’, was an intense affair, a grand experiment that produced inspiring,
nconventional music - but this time around, he wanted to breathe a bit easier, to feel that breath in the music as well. So he and his band drove out to the desert to record in a lowstress environment: Brian Harris’ Cactopia, a house surrounded by 6ft tall sculptural psychotropic cacti. They built a studio inside and then they made music and lived off pots of coffee and chili and cases of Miller High Life as they played guitars, bass, keyboards and drums in what seemed increasingly like a living biomech, their tech made out of fungal networks and cacti needles.

 It was loose and flowed onto tape well. Recorded by Robbie Cody and Zac Hernandez (who assisted on Wand’s ‘Laughing Matter’), the sounds were great from the get-go. First takes were mostly best takes. Fuelled with DNA lifted from country-rock cut with native psych and prog strands, Cory guided his craft toward the cosmic side of the highway, a benevolent alien in ambient fields hazy with heat and synths, early morning fog and space echo spreading the harmonies wide.

 ‘Pale Horse Rider’’s got a lot to get out of its mind, looking around and seeing that, on the surface, things don’t always look like much. A lifelong Californian, Cory’s naturally found himself standing to the left of most of the
country. The west may be only what you make it; these days, the roadside view looks exceptionally sunbleached and left behind. ‘Pale Horse Rider’ eyes the city, the country and the fragile environment that holds them both in its hands - a record as much about Los Angeles as it can be with its back to the town and the sun in its eyes; as much about
ostalgia as new music can be with the apocalypse over the next rise.

 On ‘Pale Horse Rider’, Cory Hanson moves ceaselessly forward. The old myths weave and waft, the shadows of tombstones flickering in the mirages and the light that lies dead ahead.