the label
Evening Fires
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After a year in (slow-motion) preparation, Evening Fires are pleased to unveil their first full-length CD. Though the group includes members of the Clear Spots and Peacefeather , beyond a shared attitude of musical exploration you'd be hard-pressed to find many sonic connections here. "Side A" features a trippy flowing suite sculpted out of acoustic guitars, percussion, organ, synths, flute, and voice; while "Side B" is built around a lengthy invocation that starts from a mountaintop cathedral launch site to soar out over the forested valleys below. Call it folk-infused Northeastern psychedelia if labels are necessary, though the spirit is more important than any categories. . . . Eight tracks, 42 minutes. |
$10.00
Alligator Crystal Moth - Bones of the Great Divide
$13.00
Niagara Falls - Plays Spiral Isles / The Clear Spots - Smokehouse Debris
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Our first split CD, two complementary mini-albums merged into one mind-altering whole. Philadelphia-based Niagara Falls follow up two fine CDs on their own Honeymoon Music label with perhaps their most evocative electro-acoustic drones to date, an aural tour of a misty archipelago located just off the coast of dreamland; 3 tracks, 30 minutes. Meanwhile, the Clear Spots roll up one of their most fried rural noise fatties yet, assembling various wreckage from last year's successful orbital barn launch into an imposing edifice that towers over the scree on the far side of the ridge; 1 25-minute track in 4 parts. |
$10.00
Heavy Winged - Echoes of Silence
$10.00
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The Clear Spots - Electricity for All
$13.00
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Ajilvsga - Blood Nocturnes
$10.00
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Adam Bugaj - Wave of Tears
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Adam Bugaj sometimes plays lysergic barn rock with the Clear Spots, other times vaporizes neurons with Peacefeather (please check out their excellent CD on Honeymoon Music), but more than either he’s a bedroom-studio Dr. Moreau, toiling away in his attic laboratory to bring us fragmentary new sonic life forms. If the medium is the message, this is definitely speaking in tongues: flashes of recognizable elements float by -- ghosts of Wilson/Parks sketches, malfunctioning electronica, lo-fi psychedelia, tape hiss and machine hum and the click of the edit button -- then fly off in mid-sentence just as their import begins to clarify. This is what it would feel like if Daylight Savings Time happened every day. |
$10.00










